“Your nephews and Pansy require your presence more than Jackson and I.”
He sighed. “True enough, I suppose. True enough. This is my reward for training the two of you so well. I’m redundant.” But true pride colored his words.
She held her face up to it as if it were the sun. Kind words, proud ones, had rarely fallen on her ears until she’d met Lord Eaden. She saved each one and locked them up safe to keep her from despair when such times inevitably drowned her world with sorrow.
“I’m positive,” Lord Eaden said, always unaware how precious his praise was, “you’ll find my brother’s manuscript quickly, then you can enjoy yourselves as well. Truly, I should be looking for the manuscript while you have a holiday.”
“Unnecessary.”
“That restlessness again.” He chuckled. “You’ve not said so—because you would never say so… not to me at least—but I’m sure you find a trip to Brighton too tame for your wanderlust.”
She hung her head, avoiding his gaze. What could she say? She did not wish to roam the earth for the rest of her days. It merely seemed the most expedient way to avoid her demons at home. And how could she ever take root and have a home of her own? But she could. In a sort of way.
He folded his arms across his chest. “Do not fret. We’ll find the manuscript soon enough, and I’ll return the two of you to your adventures abroad.”
She would not be returning to those adventures. Not for Lord Eaden, not beside Jackson. She’d planned to tell him tomorrow, but why not today? No reason not to except that it would hurt.
She focused on what she’d be gaining instead of what she’d lose when she left—a friendship less complicated than hers with Jackson, new work, a chance to protect a dream of a family from a threat they neither earned nor deserved.
She cleared her throat. “Lord Eaden, there is something I must say to you.”
He straightened, an abrupt shift upright with almost military precision. “Oh?” He might also have mumbled something resemblingfinally, but the breathy lowness of his voice kept the truth of his words from her ears. “And what is that?”
Inhale. Exhale. All said and all over in but a sentence. “It is time for me to find new employment.”
“Pardon?” A bark of disbelief followed by the rapid snap of boots against wood flooring. “Say that again.”
She met his gaze fully, kept her spine straight and strong and those hands—wanting to fly up and hide her face, crush the on-rushing tears back where they came from—folded still and prim on her smooth skirts.
“I would like to focus on my drawing, and I had hoped you might put me in contact with other scholars—a naturalist, perhaps—who would appreciate my skills in compiling their publications.”
He stood before her now, almost close enough to touch, his face a study in confusion. She’d had a father, and she hoped to never see the man again. But Lord Eaden, her savior, she’d rather perish than meet that fate.
She wet her lips. “You… you have been more than an employer to me. You have been a friend, a—”
“I think of you as a daughter, Miss Smith. Why are you even contemplating leaving?”
“It is time.” All she could say. He’d never probed into her private dealings before. Since the day he’d discovered her, a castaway on the ship taking him to France, he’d let her keep her secrets. “A… daughter cannot always remain home.”
“She damn well can. And you’re never home. You’re always abroad. I thought you enjoyed the tasks I set you about. Digging into the dust of history.”
She stood, nodding quickly. “I do.I do. And I can never thank you enough for all you’ve done for me. You’ve never once demanded of me more than I was willing to give. And that has been a blessing. Can you leave me my secrets one final time?”
His scowl took the wild turn of a feral beast, and he swung away from her, anger turning his steps to a volley of bullets. When he turned back around, he wagged his finger at her. “You’ll not disappear. Do you understand? I’ll find you your contacts, though I hate to share your skill with others. But where will you go?”
“Europe.”
“The Continent? Sar far from us all? To family?”
She didn’t really have that anymore, but she merely nodded. She’d go where she could sully or harm no one, where the marquess could not discover her.
“Humph. I should not be surprised. I’ve trained you and Jackson to be wandering souls, unfortunately. But I do understand it. And I do have a contact or two in Europe. I’ll send word, but you’re not to say please and thank you and disappear on me as you likely did on—” He snapped his mouth shut, dragged in a heavy breath, composed his features. “Sarah and I. Nora and Ada, and… and Jackson. We would all be… quite put out to never see you again. Promise you’ll visit.”
She nodded. She could visit them when Jackson was not there, peek into the life she wanted when what she really wanted—him—was gone.
He exhaled, a rough whoosh that seemed to grate her skin.
“Thank you,” she said. “For everything.”
