‘I will wait as long as you need.’ He lowered his head in an attitude of thanks and respect.
‘Let us hurry back to the house then.’
They turned immediately and walked at a faster pace than before.
‘I had a thought yesterday, Mr Xavier, and I wonder if I can ask you about it.’
‘Of course.’
‘Did your family come to Australia because of what happened with your grandfather.’
Mr Xavier turned his face away, but answered her anyway.
‘I cannot deny it. Grandpapa’s title and property became forfeit to the crown. Mother could not abide the stain his illness brought, and so they decided to start afresh here. That is why she has tried so hard to keep Uncle Ed’s illness quiet since it became obvious he suffered in the same way.’
What a tragedy the family had suffered. It all began to make sense to Serena and she pondered his words as they finished their walk back to the house.
The fine china and silver on the tea-tray chattered as Serena approached Edward’s rooms, a clear announcement of her jitters. The family had suggested she present herself with food as the troubled man had not eaten for some time. Mrs Jones had placed Serena back in the same room as before, her mood somewhat restrained. Mr Jones had welcomed her as affably as a man could be expected to in the circumstances, and she had yet to see Mr Simon whom, she suspected, would be sulky and disapproving of her return to Aleron. Serena braced herself for the inevitable meeting where no doubt he would subject her to a list of her faults and transgressions.
For now, though, she must face Edward, and a jumble of emotions left her quite anxious. Part of her was glad to see him again, and if she dared to admit it, even ached to see him. But then the uncertainty of his current mood turned her wanting upside down, making her stomach swirl with apprehension. Pushing down her queasiness, Serena set the tray on the hall table and tapped on the door with a hesitant knock.
A muffled groan came from within the suite of rooms. ‘I have told you before, Judy, don’t bother me unless Serena is back.’
Serena’s breath caught in her throat, nerves kicking up a notch. ‘It is me.’ The words had little volume.
‘I can’t hear you. Whatever excuse you are trying to make now, I don’t want to hear it. Leave me alone!’
Serena cleared her throat and drew in a deep breath to steady her nerves and voice. ‘It is Serena, Mr King. I have returned.’
Silence then, for several heart beats at least, followed by scrambling, tumbling, hurried noises. And suddenly the door whooshed open to reveal Edward, wearing no shirt at all. There was only a robe hanging in a haphazard fashion from his shoulders. Serena’s eyes could not help but lock onto his bare chest, the curves of his breast bone and sunken stomach, her breath suspended. In the same way, her mind had jolted to a stop, sensible thoughts flown, replaced by—by nothing she cared to admit. Somehow, she forced her gaze up to meet his face. ‘I’m here.’
She grimaced at this statement of the obvious, but there was no way to redeem it.
‘You’re here.’
Edward appeared no less speechless and countless, wordless breaths passed before he shook his tousled hair and stepped back from the doorway. ‘Come in.’
In a fumbling movement, Serena gathered the tray and, averting her eyes, stepped by him. Mercifully, by the time she had set the tea-tray on a side table and turned, Edward had drawn the robe closed.
‘Your family worry, Mr King. I brought some food. Will you please eat?’ And please refrain from looking so handsome.
‘For you, anything.’ He at once sat and nibbled at a thick slice of buttered bread. Not the actions of a man starving for sustenance. But his words made her stomach flip. Perhaps it would be better if he did not speak.
‘Would you like tea?’
Serena nodded. ‘Please.’
Was there any chance the tea would calm her nerves? Maybe, if it was one of those herbal teas. But this was not. A sigh escaped as she watched Edward pour the brown liquid into a china cup. Serena studied his face as he added milk and two lumps of sugar. Dark rings still shadowed his eyes and the smile that briefly curved his mouth had vanished. He looked tired. And not just lack-of-sleep tired. Drained-and-weary-of-soul tired. What could weigh him down so? He handed her the cup, his fingers lingering on hers during the exchange. Why was it so hard to breathe in here? She should open a window or two.
‘What made you return, Serena?’ Although he addressed her, his eyes focused on the small repast in front of him.
Serena drew in a deep breath and held it. Should she explain by way of Mr Xavier’s visit?
‘Did you finally realise you belong with me?’ Now his eyes lifted, pinning her, almost accusing in their forcefulness.
Did she? It was a question even she couldn’t answer. How much of Edward’s attraction was real, and how much of it was fevered illness? Her own attraction was real enough it scared her. For what future might she have with someone of his nature? Serena drank half the lukewarm tea in one big gulp, the teacup rattling against the saucer as she set it on the table.
‘I missed you.’ That admission might cost her. But was it enough to appease him? ‘I thought about you often.’
‘You thought of me,’ he repeated in a hushed voice, and the corner of his mouth twitched.
Was that gratitude, or relief, or mockery? Serena could not be sure, and he had lowered his gaze again. She finished the rest of the tea and set the cup and saucer on the table, glad to have it out of her hands.
‘Judy was
