Their kiss was everything Daniel had thought it would be, though it should not be happening now, in bedchambers, with only a small candle for propriety, and a gown already unfastened. His hands itched to pull the dress from her body. Bloody hell, he’d wanted this since seeing her standing alone in The George. Their time in the grove had almost undone him. Blast it all, he’d wanted this moment since he was old enough to understand what the stirring in his trousers meant, or that the emptiness in his chest was when Lettie was not near.

She could not deny how well they fit against one another. Even now, he could hear their hearts beating as one.

Lettie’s resistance subsided quickly and her arms locked around him, pulling him closer as their mouths danced. It was not a parry and thrust. It was not two people moving toward opposite goals. It was a complete union, both physical and emotional.

He had no designs on her wealth, her lands, nor did he have any thoughts to possess her—without the proper band nestled on her hand. He wanted all of her—mind, body, and soul.

They were always meant to be in this position: their bodies locked together as tightly as their lips, her arms encircling him as she caressed his back, and his need pressed securely between them. Lettie felt her way across his corded back, his skin flaming in each place she dragged her fingers across.

Daniel allowed his hands to roam where her shift-covered back was exposed by her undone gown. He longed to move his hands down and unfasten the remaining buttons, pushing the gown from her arms to puddle at her feet. He wanted this—needed this—however, something kept his desire under control.

If he let go and she succumbed during their moment of passion, he’d prove himself to be everything he’d begged her to believe he wasn’t.

As if sensing his resolve, Lettie pulled back. Her arms fell away, and she glanced down at them as if she hadn’t known they were exploring his body while her thoughts were on their kiss.

“I am a married woman, your grace,” she breathed heavily, her chest heaving. Her entire body quivered and her hands trembled at her sides. The shoulder of her gown slipped down her arm, revealing her demure white shift.

His eyes followed its descent, and he reached out to tug it back onto her shoulder.

When he moved, she flinched out of reach.

“Your grace, Daniel, I…” She glanced around her bedchambers as if noting for the first time how alone they were. “I cannot. Gregory. He…”

“Shhh,” Daniel soothed, reaching for her once more and righting her gown. “I understand; however, you are not a married woman. You have not been for many months. Though that does not excuse my actions. I did not seek you out with this in mind.”

There was so much more he needed to tell her, but it was too soon.

And she was too raw.

Every inch of her shook as she stumbled to her dressing table bench and sank onto it.

One moment she was the confident, brave woman who’d followed her heart and committed to a life of endless hardships…and with the flip of a coin, she’d turned into the scared, anxious, crumbling woman before him. He wanted to understand her, unravel her mind, and help her create a future, whether it included him or not.

If anyone deserved a future to look forward to, it was Lettie. It was long past time she stopped sacrificing her happiness for others.

She rubbed her hands against her face, a single quiet sob filling the room.

Daniel’s heart broke a bit more to see her struggling with her inner turmoil, the intangible pain locked within her.

Trembling slowly overtook her entire body.

“Lettie,” he said, the hoarse whisper nearly lodging in his throat. He moved to kneel before her and pulled her hands from her face where they scrubbed harshly at some invisible stain. “Look at me.”

Her eyes met his, tears pooling in their depths, ready to spill down her cheeks.

Lightly, so as not to cause her any further discomfort, he brushed the moisture away when it began to fall.

“Lettie.” He would never tire of saying her name. “You make those around you better. You’ve made me a better person, even with your absence.”

“How can that be when I cannot so much as get my own mind in order?” she muttered. “Everything—my thoughts and emotions—is a jumbled, disorderly mess. I cannot seem to make sense of anything.”

A part of Daniel knew that getting her to talk about what was going on inside her head was the first step to healing—not only for her, but also for him. He needed to talk, share everything about what had happened in those early-morning hours of Christmastide the year prior.

“Can I ask you a question?”

She nodded, unable to speak as her chin quivered.

“Do you plan to spend your life mourning Gregory?” He wasn’t sure why her answer was so important; however, he needed to know.

“I…I do not know.”

“Do you think he’d want that for you?” he asked. If he’d been wise enough to wed Lettie and then had the misfortune of passing on, he’d never want her to wallow in mourning.

She brought a narrowed-eye glare to him, a spark of fire returning. Her mood shifted from despondency to assurance in the blink of an eye. “Of course, not. That is a preposterous question, yet, he is not here to direct me on how to live my life, nor tell me how to deal with his loss.”

“But you have me,” Daniel said with quiet confidence. He set his hands on the bench on either side of her hips. “And your parents. And three close friends. None of whom may understand what you are going through—hell, I’m unsure I know what you’re going through—but that does not mean they care any less for you or do not want to help, though we are all struggling to discern how.”

“I just want to be left alone.” She broke eye contact and retreated into her shell, the barrier between them raising. “That is what I want. To be alone. Time to mourn. Space to heal.”

Daniel doubted there was enough time and space for Lettie to heal without the help of those who cared for her. He was at a loss for how to get her to understand that. “We are all uncertain how to proceed, this is new territory for all of us, but one thing I do know is that Gregory would never want you to shrivel in despair and give up. There is no possibility that you could fall in love with a man who would expect that of you.” He placed his forefinger to her chin and lifted her eyes back to his. “I am not saying you will ever find a love that compares to what you and Gregory shared; however, your husband did not fall in love with a weak woman who would be afraid to go on without him. He would want you to achieve all you’d planned to have together: a family, children, and a home full to brimming with love and laughter.”

Lettie pulled her chin from his hold, and her back stiffened.

“Be the woman Gregory fell in love with six years ago. If not today, mayhap tomorrow or the next day.”

The same woman Daniel had fallen in love with in his youth.

A woman who saw the best in others. A crusader for the less fortunate. A lady who did not wrap her entire existence in fine garb and fancy gloves. A nurse on the battlefields. And most importantly, Daniel’s only true friend.

He needed her to be that woman again.

If she were unable to heal, what chance did that leave for Daniel to overcome his own hurt and guilt?