“Ido. Why is that hard to believe?”
“I believe it. I was probably your age when I first fell in love.”
“You fell in love?”
King shrugged. “Well, I thought it was love. Her name was Mary Thatcher, and she was the daughter of the vicar in Avebury. That’s where my family’s ancestral home is.” He cleared his throat. “She was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, with long, dark hair and blue eyes.”
“That sounds like Vi.”
Surprise flickered across King’s face. “I suppose there is a passing resemblance.”
“Did you tell Mary Thatcher you loved her?”
King’s mouth curved into a small smile. “No, but I spent hours pining over her.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means thinking about her and wishing I were with her and writing poetry about her.”
“Poetry?” Joshua had thought he finally had something in common with King, but writing poetry must be one of those noble things.
“I made any excuse to see her, which I’m sure sounds familiar.”
Joshua smiled. “Did you ever kiss her?”
“I kissed her hand. Once. I didn’t want to wash my lips for days.”
“Was her hand soft?”
“It was gloved, so I have no idea,” King said.
Joshua wondered why he wouldn’t wash his lips if they hadn’t even touched Mary Thatcher’s skin, but the nobility was strange.
“Do you still pine for her?” he asked.
“No,” King said. “I haven’t thought about her in years. I imagine that’s how it will be for you. When you’re thirty, you’ll look back on Lizzie with fondness, but you’ll fall in love a dozen times or more between now and then.”
Joshua shook his head. “I’ll always love Lizzie.”
“Then she’s a lucky girl. Now, you’d better go to bed before your sister comes looking for you. I don’t think either of us want another tongue lashing tonight.”
Joshua laughed. “That’s a funny way to say it. Goodnight, King.” He had the urge to throw his arms about the man, but he wasn’t a baby anymore. Instead, he held out his hand. He thought King might ask him what he was doing, but instead, he drew his hand out of his pocket and shook Joshua’s. It was a firm handshake, but not the sort that hurt because the other man squeezed too hard.
Joshua ran up the stairs two at a time, smiling.
*
Violet closed thedoor to her closet just as Joshua bolted the door of their flat. He’d almost caught her eavesdropping. She wasn’t proud that she’d resorted to such measures, but if King and Joshua were plotting, she needed to know.
Now she wished she hadn’t listened in, because what she’d heard had tugged at her heart. She could hardly imagine King as a boy, mooning over a young girl. Somehow, thinking of him that way made him seem all too human—as though he wasn’t becoming human to her quickly enough. The way he’d kissed her tonight had certainly been human—it had been full of passion and need and a heat that she could still feel pooling in her belly.
He hadn’t disguised his desire, and he’d made her feel it too. Desire was something she didn’t allow herself to feel, something she didn’t have the luxury of indulging. And yet the one man she hated had made her hot and achy and heavy with longing.
But then she didn’t hate him, did she? She tried to hate him, but every minute she spent with him chipped away at that feeling. He was right that she didn’t know him. If she did, perhaps he wouldn’t continue to surprise her by his actions.Even listening in just now, she thought she’d hear him tell Joshua something about Lizzie she’d object to, but King hadn’t encouraged him to go see her. In fact, he’d pointed out that if he were to help Lizzie, Joshua wouldn’t see her again. To her surprise, Joshua didn’t argue on that point. No, she didn’t believe her brother was in love with Lizzie, but he definitely cared for her enough to want what was best for her, even if that went against his own best interests.
And what of her own feelings for King? Did she care for him? Could she fall in love with him? Could she fall in love with anyone? She’d never allowed herself to be that vulnerable before. She didn’t like feeling helpless, and if she cared that much for another person, her heart would be in his hands. Georgie and Joshua already held pieces of her heart. That was dangerous enough. She’d loved her father, and she’d hurt so much when he died, she thought she’d die too. She’d persevered because she had two young boys who needed her, but she certainly didn’t want to feel that pain again.
She heard Joshua settle in beside Georgie then quietly undressed and climbed under her own covers. They were cold, and she wondered what it might feel like to curl up beside King. He wouldn’t be cold. Every time she touched him, he seemed to have his own fire burning inside, making his skin warm to the touch.
