“Are you?” He clenched into a loose fist the hand that had been about to reach out to cover one of hers.
“Is it the wrong thing to do?” she asked. “He is not my father. Is it foolish to revisit the past? It was my home. And now I am going there as a visitor. Should I have refused?”
He shook his head. “No,” he said. “I can see in your eyes that this is very much something you want to do, Ellen. Then you should do it. And he was your father for fifteen years, even if he did not beget you. You had good times with him. You told me about some of them.”
She half-smiled into his eyes.
“What does your sister-in-law say?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I have not told anyone else,” she said. “I was alone this morning. I think I want to go. I want to have someone of my own, even if he is not quite mine. Do you know what I mean?”
He nodded. “Families can be the plague of one’s life,” he said. “But I cannot imagine a worse fate than to be totally without mine. You must go, Ellen. He invited you?”
She nodded.
“Then you must go.”
If he held his breath, perhaps the spell would never be broken. They were smiling into each other’s eyes, not saying anything, but unembarrassed nonetheless. Just as they had done frequently through almost two weeks. She was talking from the heart, just as she had done then. He felt almost that he could reach out for her hand and she would give it to him and let it rest companionably in his.
And he had just told her that he would probably not see her again.
“Dominic!” Anna’s voice was laughing and exasperated all at the same time. “Are you deaf? I suppose you and Mrs. Simpson are deep in war reminiscences. Could I please have a little of your attention?”
Ellen’s eyes widened before dropping away from his. She flushed.
“Sorry,” he said. “What is it, Anna?”
“Jennifer is coming to the Tower with Walter and me tomorrow,” she said, “and Mr. Phelps cannot come. It would be very lowering for me to have to go along with a mere brother, Dominic. You must rescue me. Will you? If you come, I will instantly become the most envied female in London, for you are easily the most handsome gentleman in town.” She laughed gaily.
“I can resist anything but flattery,” he said, “and the chance of having a pretty lady to escort about London.”
“Oh, splendid!” she said, smiling back at Jennifer. “And we will charm the men into taking us to Gunter’s for ices.”
“At this time of year?” Lord Eden asked. “You must be mad, Anna.”
Ellen, he noticed, had been drawn into conversation with his mother, his aunt, and Madeline. He did not talk with her again until she and her stepdaughter rose to take their leave.
“I shall see you tomorrow,” he said to Jennifer as he took her hand in his. “It is years since I saw the Tower.”
“And I have never seen it,” she said, her face bright and eager. “I shall so look forward to the outing, my lord.”
“Good-bye, Ellen,” he said, taking her hand in a quite tight grasp and looking closely into her eyes. There was nothing else to be said. They were surrounded by members of his family and Miss Simpson, all talking at once, it seemed. And this might be good-bye indeed. There were a thousand things to say. He felt panic rise into his throat.
“Good-bye, my lord.” She returned the pressure of his hand. And then drew it free and turned to smile at his mother.
“What a very prettily behaved young lady Miss Simpson is,” the dowager said after all her guests had left. “It is quite a pity that Anna has not had her for a friend for longer. And Mrs. Simpson is quite charming, and looking very much better than when I saw her in Belgium.” She looked curiously at her son.
“Yes,” he said. “She is too strong a person to crumble even under the cruelest blow. I saw her comfort men in Spain after enduring exactly the same adverse conditions as they.”
“You were talking with her,” she said. “Has the bitterness been put an end to, Dominic? I do hope so, for both your sakes.”
“Yes,” he said. “I don’t think there is any left, Mama.”
“And is there any chance,” she said, “that after her year of mourning is at an end you can mean more to each other?”
He shook his head. “No,” he said. “I think it unlikely that I will meet her again. I am quite serious about leaving for Wiltshire next week.”
She sighed. “What a shame!” she said. “I have not met a young woman I would like better as a daughter- in-law since I met Alexandra.”
“Well,” he said, putting an arm about her shoulders and hugging her, “we cannot load you down with new relatives, now, can we, Mama? Penworth is next, I believe. Then it will be my turn, perhaps, if I can persuade anyone to take me on.”
Madeline made a sound very like a snort. “Just whisper that you are on the market, Dom,” she said, “and there will be girls and their mamas lined up outside your door for the distance of half a mile.”
He chuckled, and felt rather as if his heart had turned to stone inside him.
MADELINE ARRIVED AT Mr. Septimus Foster’s house the following day after luncheon and was shown into a salon on the ground floor, where she found her betrothed sketching on a piece of paper with some charcoal.
She leaned over his shoulder and kissed his forehead. “The fireplace,” she said, “in minutest detail.”
He tossed the paper aside and looked up at her. “Madeline,” he said, “I told you that Septimus and his wife would be from home this afternoon. You should not be here.”
“Oh, faradiddle!” she said. “I am five-and-twenty years old, Allan. Years past the necessity of having armies of chaperones trailing along behind me.”
“Even so,” he said, “I don’t want you talked about. You are Lady Madeline Raine. Someone special.”
“Do you think so?” she said, sitting down beside him. “How very flattering, sir.”
“Not just to me,” he said. “You draw admiration wherever you go. It’s not just your looks, though they are quite good enough. There is a sparkle about you, something that draws the eyes. I really shouldn’t have allowed you to betroth yourself to me. It’s not right, Madeline.”
“Are we going to have this argument again?” she asked, smiling at him and taking one of his hands in hers. “Because you are missing a leg, Allan? And an eye? I don’t care about those things. I shall be your missing leg and eye.”
“But you shouldn’t have to be,” he said. “You shouldn’t be tied to a cripple. And besides, no one can be a missing limb for someone else. I have to learn to cope with my own disabilities.”
“Oh, you are cross today, Allan,” she said, kissing the back of his hand. “Would you like me to read to you?”
“No, I would not!” he said. “I can read for myself when I want to.”
“But your eye tires. You have told me that,” she said. She laid her cheek against the back of his hand.
He turned his head to look at her. “Oh, Lord,” he said. “I am treating you abominably, aren’t I? My leg has been aching all morning. I would swear it is still there. It has definitely been aching. And I have been thinking again. That is always a fatal thing to do. And I am thoroughly out of sorts with the world and sorry for myself. And I am taking it all out on you. When you have done so much for me. You brought me back to life when all I wanted to do was die. Forgive me?”
She turned her head and kissed his hand again. “I understand,” she said. “I do, Allan. And I am not hurt or offended. It is all right.”
“But it is not,” he said. “You should not be tied to me or subject to my moods of irritability. You should be free to enjoy life again.”
“Oh,” she said, smiling, “if you only knew how little I have enjoyed life in the past few years, Allan. It was all surface enjoyment and gaiety. I am not complaining, because it was a life of privilege and I know thousands would give a great deal to have just half the pleasure that was mine. But there was something missing. Some substance. And I have found it with you. Maybe I helped you back to life. But you have given meaning to my life. You have. So
