‘I wanted to get a wedding gift that you would like.’
Her throat was so tight it wouldn’t work. That he’d thought to do this for her? It was more precious than any jewels, any other expensive, exquisite item. And she wasn’t used to someone wanting to do something so nice for her.
‘I didn’t get you anything.’ She finally looked at him directly, instantly trapped in his intent gaze.
He shook his head gently. ‘You’ve done enough by marrying me, Hester.’
That was enough? Just that contract? Somehow she didn’t want that to be enough for him. She wanted him to want more from her. That dangerous yearning deepened inside—renewed desire for that intimacy they’d shared last night. But he’d let her leave this morning. He’d barely said anything. Horribly insecure, she tore her gaze from his and turned back to the table, taking in the contents of the second tray.
‘Did your craftsman put these here for you?’ Her heart skidded at the thought. She needed to touch each talisman and make them hers again.
‘No. I didn’t want him going through your things,’ he said softly. ‘I took them out before giving him the box.’
Something loosened inside. She was glad it was only he who’d touched them. He’d been thoughtful and kind and suddenly the walls within crumbled and her truth, all her emotion, leaked out—sadness and secrets and sacrifice.
‘The box was my father’s,’ she said quietly. ‘Actually it was his great-grandfather’s, so it’s really old. It was for keeping a pocket watch and cufflinks and things. I loved it as a child and Dad gave it to me for my treasures. Marbles I had, sea glass I found. We found this piece together when I was…’ She trailed off as she held the piece in her hand. Memories washed over her as they always did when she opened the box—which wasn’t often at all purely because of the intensity of emotion it wrought within her. But it was also why she loved it, why it was so very precious and so personal and she couldn’t help whispering the secrets of more. ‘The pencil was my mother’s.’ It was only a stub of a pencil. And the remnant of the thin leather strap from her purse. ‘You must think I’m pathetic.’ She quickly began putting the other items away. ‘All these broken little things—’
‘What? No.’ He put his hand on hers and stopped her from rapidly tossing everything back into the box haphazardly. Slowly he put one item at a time into her palm so she could return them to their special place.
‘Everything around me,’ Alek said quietly. ‘This palace—my whole life—is a memorial to my family. There are portraits everywhere…everything is a reminder of who I am, where I’m from and who I must be. You don’t have that, so you keep all these. There are treasured memories in every one, right?’
She nodded, unable to speak again. Emotion kept overwhelming her and she hated it.
He picked up the white-silk-covered button from the tray and held it out for her to take. ‘I’m glad this was something you wanted to remember.’
He’d recognised it? She’d scooped it from the floor on her way out of his apartment this morning. Her fingers trembled as she took the button from her wedding dress and put it into the box.
‘I’m never going to forget last night,’ she whispered. Just as she was never going to forget anything associated with all her broken treasures. She closed the lid, amazed again at how perfect the repair was.
He watched her close the box. ‘How did it get broken?’
She traced the carved lid with the tip of her finger as he’d done that day they’d met. ‘It even used to lock. I wore the key around my neck on a ribbon, hoping they couldn’t see it under my shirt.’
‘They?’
‘My cousins.’ She shrugged. ‘They didn’t like it when I went to live with them after my parents died.’
‘They didn’t welcome you?’ He paused.
‘My aunt and uncle were sure to publicise that they’d “done the right thing” in taking me in. But they already had three children and none of them wanted me there.’
‘So they didn’t give you a nice room, or let you make their home your own.’
‘No.’ She swallowed. ‘My uncle sold most of my parents’ things, but I had the box. I always kept it near me. I never left it in my room or anything because I knew not to trust them. But the ribbon was worn and one day I lost it. They teased me about never being able to open the box again because I’d lost the key—so then I knew they had it and they knew I knew. That was their fun, right? My helplessness. My desperation. There was nothing I could do and they enjoyed that power.’ She shivered. She’d hated them so much. ‘So I tried not to show them how much it mattered.’
‘I’m guessing you told them that it was “fine” for them to have it?’ He rubbed her hand. ‘That’s your fall-back, right? When you don’t want to say what’s really going on inside there.’ He pressed his fist to his heart.
She nodded sadly. ‘My cousin Joshua snatched the box off me, he said he’d open it for me, but he was mocking and mean. He tried to prise it open by force but couldn’t, so he got a knife. He broke the hinge and the lid splintered and everything fell on the ground. The three of them laughed at all my things. They said it was all just unwanted rubbish. All broken, with no value. Like me.’
Alek muttered something beneath his breath.
‘I ran away,’ she confessed sadly. ‘There was nothing else I could do, I just ran.’
‘I don’t blame you.’ He gazed at her, his dark eyes full of compassion that she couldn’t bear to see, yet couldn’t turn away from. ‘I would’ve done the same.’
She shook her head with
