He leaned forward, tracing a line down her arm. Goosebumps chased his caress and her legs, already quaking from being held so tight, slipped between his. It was both better and worse. His eyes drifted lower again, two jade and silver slits, like a wolf’s through the brush, and she realised her breasts had firmed, her nipples darker and visible through her soaked nightshift. She instinctively covered them with her arms and he let out a long breath and closed his eyes again. He looked so beaten she had to dig her fingers into her arms to stop herself from reaching out.
‘Edge. Is there news of Rafe?’
‘No. He was briefly at his house in Cumbria, but returned south again. He hasn’t been to Greybourne. I went there first.’
‘Did you see your mother?’
‘It was unfortunately unavoidable.’
‘Was she...was she not happy to see you?’
‘I have no idea. My mother is not a demonstrative woman. She said she’d expected me in England sooner given Rafe’s disappearance. There were some estate matters she was not authorised to address.’
‘Oh. Did you tell her...about us?’
His mouth quirked at the corners. It did not look like a smile.
‘I did.’
‘Was she shocked?’
‘My mother is not easily shocked.’
‘That is not an answer.’
‘It was to the question you asked.’
‘You are being purposely difficult.’
He leaned his head back and sighed, sending the steam into a billowing dance.
‘She was polite. I have no idea what she was thinking. I never know what she is thinking.’
‘Now you know how I feel.’
He sat up abruptly, the water sloshing around them. ‘That is not true. I’m not like her.’
‘I didn’t say you were; I have no idea what she is like. I do know you are very, very hard to read. Even now I don’t know whether you are glad to be here or merely waiting to be off again.’
He brushed his hand over the rippling surface of the water. His lower lip was gilded by firelight, accentuating the slightly sulky look of a chastened schoolboy.
‘She has this room. The Rose Room. It hasn’t changed since I was a boy. It is one of the few things I remember about Greybourne other than snow. I was sitting with her there and I remembered...’ He rubbed his arm and Sam held still until he continued. ‘We were reading a children’s book. She has a good voice. Very deep...’
‘Do you remember the story?’
‘No...something about animals living by a river. She has pale hair, not like my father. I don’t know why I am telling you this. It is foolish.’
‘No, it isn’t. Whatever she did, you have so few memories of her, you should cherish them.’
‘I’d rather not waste mental powers remembering the people who discarded me.’
‘They didn’t precisely discard you, they sent you to Poppy and Janet who loved you unconditionally. Do you know I was jealous of you as a child? I used to wish they were my parents.’
He shook his head, but he was smiling.
‘What a discontented lot we humans are. Your mother might have had her weaknesses but she fought like a tiger to keep you, no matter how far into the dark she sank.’
‘Yes, that is true,’ she admitted, suddenly uncomfortable with how revealing her words were. ‘Do you remember your father?’
His smile faded, his gaze falling to the cooling water.
‘My only memories of him were from morning prayers. Every morning we all kneeled in the great hall for eternity and a day while he bellowed sermons at us.’
‘That sounds horrible.’
‘It was boring and hard on the knees, not horrible. Unless one of us coughed or nodded off. Then... I’d forgotten, too, what a temper my father had. He would roar like a wounded bear and loom over you. The more I remember the more I realise Rafe was right, I was lucky to be sent away.’
‘That doesn’t make it any easier to understand as a child.’
He finally looked up, his fingers stilling on the water’s surface.
‘No. Poppy and Janet were so different I had no idea what to expect at first. On the way to Egypt we docked in Malta and for a few moments I was separated from them. Then Poppy was looming over me and I waited for my punishment...but they hugged me and bought me a notebook so I would have a captain’s log and always write where I was going. I remember what it smelled like—saddles and cinnamon. Strange.’
The knot inside her untangled as he spoke. She had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but for now the aching loneliness was gone.
‘Are you cold? Your hair is wet because of me.’ He touched the goosebumps on her folded arms and she shivered and shook her head, the tip of her plait shifting in the water.