Twice Tempted by a Rogue (Stud Club #2)(32)

He gave a diffident shrug as he kept right on working. “I was worried I’d made the thing too small, anyhow. Now I can enlarge it.”

“Aren’t you angry?”

“What good would it do to get angry?” With a low grunt, he plucked a small boulder from the ground.

“I don’t know if it would do any good, but it would certainly be natural.”

He tossed the stone aside easily, as though it were an apple core. It landed with a resounding thud. “I’ve wasted most of my life being angry. Never changes a damn thing. I just end up hurting everything around me.”

Meredith hurt for him. She watched as he continued clearing and sorting the stones. His motions were brutish, and barely controlled. It couldn’t be healthy for him, holding his emotions in like that. If his unleashed anger inflicted damage on everything around him, what damage was it doing to him, when he kept it inside?

“Rhys …”

With a rock balanced in either hand, he strode over to confront her. His eyes burned into hers. “Tell me one thing.”

She mutely nodded her acquiescence. As if she could refuse.

“Did you know they were planning this? Is that why you came to my room this morning, tried to keep me in bed?”

“No,” she said quickly. “God, no.” Of all the horrid notions … no wonder he couldn’t bear to look at her. “Rhys, it wasn’t like that. I had no idea. You must believe me.”

With a rough sigh, he heaved the rocks aside. First one, then the other. “I believe you. Just had to ask.”

Before he could turn away, she caught his wrist. “Stop for a moment. Please?”

He stopped.

The wind gusted, tangling her skirt around her legs and forcing her to raise her voice. “I had no idea they’d do this last night, but I suspected they’d try something soon. You must understand, they’re concerned. I’m concerned, too. I heard what you told me earlier, about needing to build something here. And I understand, more than you could know. To you, this rebuilding plan is some kind of redemption, but to everyone in the village … it’s a threat.”

“A threat? How can it be a threat?”

“We’ve built a livelihood here, just barely. Mainly due to the inn, and Darryl’s little business touring the travelers, and …”

“And Gideon Myles’s smuggling ring.”

Her voice failed her. He knew about Gideon?

“Yes, I know. Myles and I had a not-quite-friendly chat just before he left town last week. Just how involved are you with that business?”

“I’m not—” She swallowed hard. What use was there denying it? “Not very.”

He gave her a queer look as he backed away, returning to his pile of stones. “That’s what I’d hoped. But this morning made me wonder.”

A queasy feeling churned her innards. She recognized it as guilt. And why should she feel guilty, simply because she’d done whatever she could to ensure the village’s survival?

“Rhys, try to understand. Our livelihood as a village … it’s a delicate balance, and you’re threatening to topple it.”

“Topple it? I want to rebuild it, on something more solid than ghost stories and smuggled brandy. My ancestors supported this village for generations.”

“Yes, but this generation doesn’t understand. There’s already a betting pool down at the tavern. The men are all laying wagers on how long it’ll take you to leave.”

“Oh, really?” His voice went dark. “What date is your money on?”

“I’m not a gambler,” she said, hoping a little smile would lighten the mood. “You’ve been gone for so long. It’s hard for people to believe you’re serious when you say you’re here to stay.”

“Well, I don’t know what else I can do to convince people”—his pointed look told her he meant the one particular person standing before him—“that I’m truly here to stay. Other than to stay. And keep building up these stones, no matter how many times they knock them down.”

“You truly mean that? No matter what they do, you’ll remain here on the moor?”

“Like a damned boulder.” An ironic smile quirked his lips. He ran a hand over his hair, then wiped his brow with his sleeve. “Let’s put it this way. It’s not like I have something better to do.”

Was that meant to reassure her? It didn’t. Perhaps it helped convince her he wasn’t leaving anytime soon, but it certainly didn’t make her any more inclined to marry him.

Marry me, Meredith. It’s not like I have something better to do.

“Just the same,” he said, “I’d rather not rebuild this foundation a dozen times. I suppose I’ll start camping out here to guard it. You’ve need of your guest rooms anyway.”

“Out here? At night?”

“I’m a soldier. I’ve camped in worse conditions than these.” He looked around the rubble. “Much worse.”

Her gut told her he wasn’t exaggerating. But even if he could endure it, she hated the thought of him staying out here in the cold when she had warm beds and hot food at the inn. Not to mention, the open moor was dangerous at night. Dark, damp, perilous. In protecting the cottage, he’d only be endangering himself. Next time Gideon’s supporters got up to their mischief, the house wouldn’t be their target. Rhys would.