“It is.” Emotion thickened Morwenna’s voice.
“You said he had to go away forever.” Kerenza still studied him the way Silas studied his botanical specimens. Or in fact, the way Robert pored over a chart to plot a ship’s course.
He’d never realized how powerful it would be to see himself reflected in another being. His avid gaze ate up every detail of those quirky, vivid features. She was beautiful. She’d be beautiful to him forever.
His daughter!
“When I found out I was mistaken, it was a lovely surprise for me, too.” Morwenna’s eyes were bright with tears, although he saw how she fought to contain them for Kerenza’s sake.
“Hello, Kerenza,” he said, his voice husky. His hands opened and closed at his sides as he fought the urge to grab her close.
That considering gaze remained on his face as if she gathered all her thoughts together before she reached her conclusion. He had no idea what most four-year-old girls were like, but he’d lay a large wager this one was unusually advanced.
“Hello, Papa,” she said slowly. “You don’t look like your picture.”
His lips twisted as he recalled the romantic figure Lawrence had made of him. Even at twenty, he hadn’t been that dashing.
“I’ve had some adventures since then. Would you like to hear about them?” He caught Morwenna’s glance, then looked back at Kerenza.
She nodded. “Yes, please. Are you going to live with us now?”
He swallowed to ease the constriction in his throat. “Yes. Will you like that?”
She frowned as she pondered her answer, and for a moment looked so much like his sister Helena that his heart somersaulted. He hadn’t expected her to seem so familiar so quickly, but she already felt like the blood of his blood, bone of his bone.
“Yes, I will. I always hoped you’d come home.”
“So did I,” Morwenna said fervently, wiping away a surreptitious tear that escaped her ferocious control. “Now go and give your papa a kiss like a good girl.”
Pride swelled Robert’s heart to bursting when Kerenza left her mother’s side without further urging and stepped forward. Of all the qualities he admired, courage was the greatest. And his girl was clearly brave to the bootstraps.
Careful not to betray quite how overcome he was, he held out his hand, but let Kerenza decide whether to take it.
When her small hand curled around his, his heart performed another of those dizzying cartwheels. She was a champion, his Kerenza, and he pledged himself to her service as long as he lived.
“Please bend down, Papa,” she said, as imperious as a princess.
And why not? By God, he’d like to find a princess to match her.
“With pleasure.” He went one better. He crouched until his face was level with hers. This close, he saw details he’d missed when she stood beside her mother.
The thick black lashes. The tumble of hair, thick and unruly, just like his. The slightly aquiline nose that would lend her features character when she grew into them. A few freckles scattered across her cheekbones.
For a long time, they stared at one another. He remained unmoving as that bright, black gaze roved across his face. As if she did her best to memorize every feature.
A dirty hand already showing promise of adult elegance rose to touch the scar on his face. “Who did that?”
“A pirate,” he said, wondering if he should lie. He looked up at Morwenna to check for disapproval. He met eyes shining with what he now dared to call love.
“The pirates took you away from us.”
“Yes.”
“But you escaped from them.”
“Indeed I did.”
A pleased smile curved her lips. “I’m so glad you beat them.”