“I know.” His tone was wry. “They were very careful tiptoeing around me.”
“And that made you feel worse.”
His fingers tightened, squeezing her heart at the same time. But then, he’d held her heart in his hands from the moment she first saw him. “You understand.”
“They’ve been very careful with me, too. Sometimes the weight of all that love...”
“Becomes unendurable. That’s why you kept the Portsmouth house.”
Of course he understood her need for somewhere she could escape and be herself. “It was purely yours and mine. Everything contained a memory of you. And lovely as Woodley Park is, it’s a bit overwhelming for a country girl from Cornwall.”
“And it’s not your home.”
“No.” Her free hand made a dismissive gesture. “Oh, listen to me. I sound like the most ungrateful wretch in creation. Believe me, Caro and Silas couldn’t have done more for me. And Helena and Vernon have been wonderful as well.”
“But you still liked retreating to Portsmouth?”
Her smile was wry. “I did. Just as I liked having Kerenza to myself. And I had a good friend in the town. That’s where I met Sally, Lady Norwood. Without her company, life would have been even lonelier and sadder. Sally is the one who persuaded Amy and me to come up to London to play Dashing Widows this season.”
“I look forward to meeting her.”
Morwenna smiled when she thought of her lively, stylish friend. “Actually she’s Lady Kinglake now. She was the first Dashing Widow to find love. She married Sir Charles Kinglake last August.”
“And Amy is married, too. To the man she was madly in love with as a girl. How on earth did Pascal prize her away from her beloved cattle?”
Morwenna’s smile widened as she recalled farm-minded Amy’s topsy-turvy courtship. “I’ll tell you.”
As she told the story of Amy’s romance, something in her noted that this was the most natural conversation she and Robert had managed since his return. Hard to remember that last night, the effort of putting two words together had been beyond him.
Encouraged by his interest, she moved to other family news. New children had arrived, and the older Nash children had grown. Silas had been elected president of the Royal Society. His sister Helena and her husband Vernon, Lord West were away in Russia sorting out a diplomatic tangle. Vernon had long ago retired from international intrigues to breed champion racehorses, but this latest mission resulted from a direct royal command.
Eventually she paused. She reached a point where so much talking tested her stamina, too.
Robert leaned back against the seat. “By God, they’ve been busy, haven’t they?”
“There’s more. But that’s enough to go on with.”
Sadness shadowed his black eyes. “What a lot I’ve missed.”
Oh, no. Had she been wrong to say so much? She’d sensed his hunger to talk about something other than his captivity. But all this news just underlined his long absence.
“I’m sorry. Don’t imagine your loss wasn’t a gaping wound through everything we did.”
He shook his head. “I know I wasn’t forgotten. But I wasn’t just talking about the last five years. I’ve been away from my family most of my life.”
“You love the navy.”
“Loved. When I was a boy, it seemed the path to adventure and renown. But it’s a young man’s game. There are other adventures.”
“You served your country, saw the world, made the seas safer, and had a wonderful time,” she said slowly. “Don’t let your captivity destroy your pride in your achievements.”
“Oh, it won’t. But I’m devilish glad the navy accepted my resignation today.”
“So they really are finished with you?” For herself, she’d be delighted if he never set foot on anything that floated for the rest of his life. She wanted him close by and safe. But she was wise enough to know that only he could decide whether his soul had had enough of voyaging.
Robert gave an unamused grunt and looked out the window at the countryside wearing red and gold for autumn. “If only. They’ve granted me two months’ leave to recover, then I suspect I’ll be up to my neck in reports and committees and interviews. I’ve come back with valuable intelligence, for all that I spent most of my exile sitting on my arse in a prison cell.”
“Your inf