One LegThree

A week crawled by. Rowan feared he might die of impatience if the next two weeks passed by as slowly. He didn't know if he expected Daisy to reply to his letter or not. There really was no need for a response, he supposed. He felt better for having written to ask for her forgiveness. Willow repeatedly assured him the letter must have meant a lot to Daisy. He got the feeling she knew more than she was letting on, but what else might a man expect from a younger sister who thought she was an expert on all things now she was married?

His spirits improved greatly. He had goals—to walk with Potts' leg and to win Daisy back. He had more energy. His appetite improved.

Willow and his father told him he looked better than he had for months. Ash wasn't home long enough to know what was going on in the house. He came home after midnight, slept most of the day and went out before the evening meal. There was still no news of Thorne .

Rowan's new-found optimism faltered slightly when Kenneth, Duke of Ramsay, came to call unexpectedly. As a close friend of Rowan's father, and cousin to Niven King, Ramsay was no stranger to the Withenshawe's home but, as he entered the drawing room, the stern set of his jaw didn't augur well.

"Bracknell," the duke growled.

"Ramsay," Rowan replied, taken aback by the use of his formal title. "Good to see you."

"You might not think so after I say what I came to say."

Rowan's spirits plummeted. His visitor had come to convey Daisy's regrets that she no longer loved him and would never forgive him. "Have a seat and speak on," he replied hoarsely, gesturing to the settee.

"I'll stand until I'm satisfied you're not toying with my sister's heart."

The urge to strike Ramsay with his crutch was powerful, but then he'd fall flat on his face. Kenneth couldn't be blamed for being concerned about his sister. "I acknowledge having treated Daisy badly," he confessed. "I truly believed she'd be better off with a husband who wasn't crippled."

"So, when you get this artificial leg, you're hoping she won't notice your own leg is missing."

There was only one person who could have passed on the information about Potts' leg. "I'm beginning to suspect a spy in this household. Willow. Am I right?"

Ramsay's face reddened. "I suppose I've given your sister away."

"No matter. Have a seat while I try to explain. The mechanical leg is for my benefit, not necessarily Daisy's. When I ask her to be my wife, I want to be upright without relying on this confounded crutch. Surely you understand that?"

Kenneth chuckled as he sat. "You mean you don't intend to go down on bended knee?"

Now came Rowan's turn to blush. "I never thought of that!"

Kenneth rose to pour them each a glass of Uachdaran as the two shared the humor.

"I've been an ass," Rowan confessed. "Will she forgive me?"

Kenneth touched his glass to Rowan's. "She never faulted you."

When Willow learned Kenneth Hawkins had come to call, she feared her subterfuge might be discovered. Rowan would be angry if he knew she'd interfered. Upon hearing male laughter coming from the drawing room, she plucked up her courage and entered. She regretted the decision when the laughter ceased abruptly. Kenneth came to his feet but his red face and refusal to meet her gaze suggested he'd let the cat out of the bag.

However, if Rowan was aware she'd been in contact with Daisy, he showed no signs of being angry. In fact, he was smiling.

"So, Daisy knows all about the artificial leg?" he asked.

"Yes," she confessed.

"And you were at Ramsay House when my letter arrived?"

"I was," she replied sheepishly, recalling all too well that the old Rowan had always been something of an authoritarian who'd bullied his younger siblings.

"Hah!" he exclaimed, slapping his good thigh. "I should have known you'd want to meddle."

That remark was too hurtful. She was no longer the little sister intimidated by an overbearing older brother. "Now hold on. I want you and Daisy to be happy. Do you not see that's the only reason I meddled?"

Rowan got up from the settee with practiced ease. "Come here," he said.

She went into his outstretched arms, aware, as he no doubt was, it was the first time in their lives they'd shared a loving embrace. Her throat constricted when she realized he was leaning on her to keep himself upright. The proud, stubborn Rowan would never have done such a thing.

She took a chance. "Why not go to Daisy now?" she asked. "What are you waiting for? Has she not waited long enough?"

He pulled back. "But I'll have Potts' leg in two weeks."

"The artificial leg will make life easier for you," Kenneth said. "But Daisy doesn't care if you have one leg or three."

Rowan had to sit. Over and over, he'd rehearsed the scene in his head. Fitted with his new leg, he called on Daisy. She ran into his arms. He proposed marriage. All was forgiven.

The trouble with the fantasy was that she'd already forgiven him, or rather had apparently never censured his actions. She'd understood his torment, perhaps better than he had.

Did he have the courage to face her while still dependent on a crutch? "I'm afraid," he confessed.

"Of what?" Kenneth demanded. "Has my sister not proven she loves you, crippled or not?"

"The question is," Willow said. "Do you trust her enough to go now?"