“You know very well.” I touched the curls that framed my face. “And I’d prefer not to discuss it.”
“I am not a mind reader, Miss Kent. But I do believe we remember a few things differently.”
I glanced up to frown at him, expecting to see a teasing glint in his eyes or smile on his lips, but I only found sincerity.
“Very well then, I will tell you what I remember. But you should know that my memory does not paint you in the best light.”
“As I am well aware.”
“We were skipping rocks just over there.” I pointed to a shady spot on the riverbank. “I thought I saw a school of fish, but then you corrected me, saying they were tadpoles, nearly frogs, and I was so disappointed.”
He made a face. “No, you weren’t. You were excited. Don’t you remember? You could scarcely tie up your skirt fast enough. And even though you didn’t know how to swim, you walked right into the river. The water came right up to your waist.”
“Even then I was headstrong.”
“No,” Damon said. “You werefearless.”
I shook my head, confused. “I actually do remember that. But it doesn’t make sense. I hate frogs.”
“You didn’t use to,” he said quietly. “What else do you remember about that day?”
“Ollie grew bored of skipping rocks, so I suggested we play hide and go seek in the garden.”
“And I agreed.”
“Yes, but only if we played in the east wing. Ollie said no because your father had forbidden us from entering that wing, but you goaded him until he acquiesced.”
“I was trying to impress you with my bravery,” Damon said.
“You wished to impress me?” I looked at him askance.
“Is that so hard to believe?”
“It is actually. You were always playing so many pranks on me.”
“I assure you, none were intended as such. Please go on.”
“We ran across the great lawn toward the house. You were in the lead, but Ollie was close behind. I ran as fast as I could, trying to keep up, but I’d untied my skirts, and my foot caught the hem. I tripped.” I shook my head. “You see? Ollie can hardly blame my dislike of skirts. They’ve caused me ire since girlhood.”
“Yes.” Damon laughed. “I suppose they have.”
A memory came into my mind like a dream.
Damon rested his hands on his knees, breathing hard from running. “Are you hurt?”
I frowned up at him. “Skirts are stupid.”
“I don’t think so.” He smiled.
“That’s because you don’t have to wear one.”
“You’re probably right,” Damon said. “Come on. I’ll race you back to the house.”He helped me to stand, and then I chased after him all the way back to the house.
I blinked at Damon. “You ran back for me,” I said. “Why did you do that? You hated me.”
“Never,” he said in a low voice. “Do you remember anything else of that day?”
My memories were fuzzy. The only things I could remember with clarity were the very things I’d tried so hard to forget. “You locked me in a traveling trunk,” I said.
