He looked back to Claire as a shadow passed over his features. “I imagine Freddie told you Claire had been with him when we found them in that bastard Bricken’s warehouse.” She nodded. “You also probably know we barely found those children in time. Another couple hours and we’d’ve lost them.”
The reminder sent a shock of cold through her chest, but when his gaze met hers, she was surprised by the pain she saw there. Pain and guilt and quietly burning fury. She might have been discomfited by the strength of his anger if it wasn’t so clearly directed inward.
His brows furrowed heavily over his eyes. “If I hadn’t spent several days in a drunken stupor—if I’d faced my failings instead of trying to drown them—I could’ve found her long before she fell into Bricken’s hands. She never should’ve been there.”
His hand curled into a fist atop the table, the veins in his arm bulging as his knuckles turned white. The instinct to comfort him had Katherine shifting her hold on Claire to reach out and cover his fist with her hand before she even thought about it. Strength and violence seethed within him. But she also felt his control. He wasn’t a man to be ruled by such emotions. He was a man who mastered them.
The hard lines of his jaw clenched then released and his eyes narrowed. Staring intently at her face, he didn’t reject her touch. In fact, she wasn’t even sure he’d noticed it.
“I was no better’n my own drunken arsehole of a father. More concerned with my troubles than the needs of my child.” His voice dropped to a low growl. “I’ll never fucking forgive myself for that.”
Katherine didn’t know what to say. Perhaps there was nothing to say.
The conviction in his voice was undeniable. Though plagued by his prior mistakes, he was clearly determined to do better. To be better for the sake of his daughter.
As she held his gaze, feeling the remorse and shame he carried for his past mistakes, something changed in the air around them. It was subtle and quiet. A moment. A sigh. Then his large fist—still covered by her hand—turned and opened to match hers.
A tingling wave rushed through her from her scalp to her toes, and she glanced down to where her hand now rested in his. The roughened texture of his palm didn’t bother her—in fact it intrigued her—but something about the difference in size between them and the warmth of his touch gave her a distinct sense of uncertainty. So much strength and capability in his hands. So much experience and power.
He didn’t even have to curl his fingers around hers to hold them in place. He simply opened his palm and she was momentarily helpless to pull away.
As she watched, he brushed his wide thumb once across her knuckles. Goose bumps rose on her arms and something twisted in her sternum.
With an unsteady breath, she lifted her gaze. Tension was evident in the line of his jaw, and his eyes were unreadable as he stared intensely back at her. There was just a moment of poignant expectancy before the corner of his mouth curled and he gave a short laugh. Abruptly releasing her hand, he swiped up his mug and lifted it in a mocking toast. “Goat’s milk is about as potent as it gets for me.”
“A noble refreshment,” she asserted with a smile. Doing her best not to reveal the sense of loss she experienced at his withdrawal, she reached for her own mug to complete the toast.
At Claire’s soft snore, Katherine glanced down. The little girl’s lips were softly parted in her sleep, and a delicate sweep of golden lashes fluttered against pink cheeks.
Hale cleared his throat and rose to his feet. “I suppose it’s time.” He looked down at the platter that had previously been heaped with food but now held only a few crumbs. His grin when he glanced up again was almost boyishly wicked. “D’you reckon cook’ll be angry to discover her larder’s been raided?”
Aiming for the same casual tone, Katherine replied, “She’s used to it, I imagine. Frederick frequently sneaks into the kitchen between meals.”
With another short laugh, Hale cleared their dishes and set them into an empty washtub. “Growing boys tend to have inexhaustible appetites.”
“Well, that’s certainly proving to be true in his case,” Katherine agreed.
Securing Claire in her arms, she carefully maneuvered her legs out from under the table, but before she could stand, Hale was there in front of her.
“I’ll take her,” he said roughly.
At Katherine’s nod, he gently eased the little girl from her lap. Claire breathed a soft protest, but once she was settled against Hale’s broad chest, she curled her hand around his thick neck and sighed. The sight of it filled Katherine with warmth. Though Claire was timid and often uncertain when awake, in sleep, her instinct to find comfort and safety in her father’s arms was evident and sweet. As evident as the quiet hope and barely perceptible vulnerability in her indomitable father’s eyes as he gently stroked her pale curls.
Katherine’s breath caught.
There was so much emotion swirling in his gaze. More, she suspected, than he knew what to do with. More than she knew what to do with in that moment.
She glanced aside. “I’ll lead the way.”
The candle Hale had brought down had died out a bit ago, so there was just the one she’d brought from the study.
Rising to her feet, she preceded them from the kitchen to the back stairway that would take them up to the third floor and Claire’s bedroom. Her insides were still stirring in reaction to what Hale had revealed to her and those strange moments of intimacy they’d shared across the kitchen table. It was all she could do to keep her spine straight and her steps sure as they made their way in a silent procession to the second-floor landing. There, Hale stopped Katherine with
