“No!” Yes, a little bit. “It is simply I did not expect to see you here, and to be perfectly truthful, your presence puts me in a bit of an awkward situation.”
He reached up and snapped a twig with a leaf from the branchabove, twirled it between his fingers. “What brings you to Hyde Park, Isabella?”
“Family.” That much true.
As he twirled the leaf between his fingers, it flashed green and yellow in the dappled sunlight. “Your family does not know what you are doing. With me.”
The pressing need to keep her secrets locked up tight quite… blew away. She felt hollow, fragile, tired of running. “Of course not. An unmarried woman spending time with an unmarried man. Often alone. Pretending to be wed to one another. Ifanyoneknew, you and I would no longer be pretending. Surely I need not tell you that.”
“No.” He gave his head a tiny shake. “Of course not.”
“I cannot imagineyourfamily knows you are pretending to have a wife.”
“I’m a little terrified of them finding out.”
She gasped. “The indomitable Rowan Trent, master of Hotel Hestia—terrified? Never.”
He shivered but grinned, seeming rather shy.
Made her feel shy, too. Picking at her skirt, she said, “I know your mother and father are… no longer with us. Who is the family you are scared of?”
He settled a shoulder against a tree trunk. “The man and his wife who took me in after my father died.”
She settled on the other side of the tree, shoulder to bark, bonnet nestled in the low-hanging leaves that offered shade, that cooled the heat, that hid them. She could relax for a breath, safe from the chaos beyond their little oasis. She’d found herself relaxing more around him than not, of late, as if she could trust him to keep the world running smoothly with no effort on her part. She’d been scurrying so long to keep everything from falling apart, to know everything so nothing could surprise her… the rare moments during which she trusted him, stopped scurrying, seemed jewels of untold value. She needed to get to the Hestia as quickly as she could. But… surely she could take a moment to rest her wings with a man who felt a bit like a nest made just for her.
“You admire them, don't you, the couple who adopted you,” shesaid with a sigh. “Perhaps you even love them. I can see it in your face. It softened.”
“They have better hearts than anyone I know.”
“Tell me something about them.”
The corner of his mouth tipped up. “I will. If you tell me something aboutyourfamily.”
“Agreed. I'll go first. Don’t trick me and cry off after I’ve had my say.”
He put a palm to his heart. “Never.”
She settled back against the tree, peering through its branches to the crowded path in the distance. “I have seven sisters and a brother and until my oldest three sisters married, we all lived together, taking care of one another.”
“Sounds chaotic.”
“Yes. Chaotic and”—she sighed—“lovely.” As long as it lasted. As long as no unsuspected cannon blasted them apart. “Now you.”
The crunch of leaves in the conversational silence, then, “The man who adopted me adores his wife. He is the strongest man I know, and he bows like a birch tree in the wind when she commands it. He does not think that makes him weak. When I was a child, he felt very strongly that I should go to school. Have the sort of education boys like me never receive.”
Keeping her shoulder against the tree, she made a little half step around it, so she could see him better. “What do you mean?”
“A sailor’s son does not attend Rugby. But he insisted I was intelligent. I deserved the best education. His wife agreed with him until I came home one holiday with this.” He traced the curved scar around his eye.
She had imagined it must have happened on the deck of some ship, a ten-year-old Rowan surprised by some pirate hoisting himself over the side of it. Or perhaps some incident at the hotel. But at a school? She knew from eavesdropping on Samuel and the brothers-in-law that school was quite a nasty place for young boys. She’d not thought it nasty enough to leave a mark like that.
“It wasn't healed yet. Quite new and raw. Stitched clumsily. A grisly sight, I assure you. His wife wept openly, and then when she had spentall her tears, she hugged me tight and stepped into a carriage, and I did not see her for almost a week. When she returned, she was followed by tutors, hired to give me the best education from the safety of home.” He seemed unable to look away from the leaf he held loosely between his thumb and forefinger. It spun light around them, green and golden. “I did not wish to return, anyway.”
She took another step around the tree toward him. They almost faced one another now, but her closeness didn’t seem to bother him. He barely seemed to notice.
“Why did they…” She reached up and traced the scar, not quite touching it.
“Because I was not supposed to be there. Because no matter who my uncle was, my father and mother were no one. A sailor. A seamstress. But they were everything to me, and I do not need to pretend they were grander than they were to love them. I love them as they were. Smallest in the world. But larger than gods in my heart. I am them. To know them is to know myself and my place. Attending Rugby would not have made me any more than I am. A sailor’s son. And proud of it.”
