The shadows in his grey eyes warned her of doom. She fidgeted. It was time to get on with the distasteful issues. "Rory, I must tell you a few things that will disturb you. I've thought about this while we were apart. I don't know if they will be troublesome to you, but they are indications of problems. I seek to be open with you about them."
"I am relieved to hear it, Fifi."
"So you know of problems? Between your family and mine? You know what I'm about to tell you?"
"I doubt I know all. But my mother told me of an incident long ago. Please tell me your story. We shall see what challenge we have after you've shared what you know."
She exhaled. "I've known this conversation would not be easy. But so be it."
"It will not change how I love you, Fee."
He was too honorable to be real. "Oh, Rory. Let me speak first. Then I can hope you'll say that again."
He took her hand.
"My father was not a calm and peaceful man to live with. He was demanding of staff and friends, tenants, even his estate manager. And of my mother, too. He was prone to outbursts, tempers that could rattle the crystal and shake your innards. He required compliance in all things from the quality of his cravats to the smoothness of his hot chocolate. What made life tolerable for me with him was that he was rarely at home. He went on trips with his friends, fishing, or to racing boxes. Often he left without any indication of where he’d gone or who he was with. When he was away, the house was quiet. The servants could be heard laughing. My mother would enjoy herself with her friends which he often forbade her to do."
She lifted her chin, seeking courage to speak the next. "He beat her. Often. A demand for his laundry not met. A beef steak too rare. Her...affections not...appropriate. I could hear him bellow about them. And I recall when I was very young, hiding from him. Finding ways to avoid him. Becoming invisible to him. If and whenever possible."
"Fee, my darling." Pain flashed across his visage.
"You are not like him. Not at all. I must have known that the first moment I looked at you. In that crowded ballroom. Your hair—" She combed her fingers through the silken brown curl that dipped over his brow. "Your hair was tousled from the mask. Your eyes were grey velvet. Your lips, an invitation to laughter."
He pulled her close and pressed his mouth to the corner of hers. "I loved you too in that instant. My lovely masked creature with the face of an angel and the smile of a temptress."
She had to go on. "In the intervening years, I remembered you as tender. An unusual characteristic for a man, I thought. And lo and behold, when we met once more, you were all I recalled. Kind, attentive. Sweet to me even though I was so—“
"Hurt. You were hurt, my love." He raised her chin. "Look at me and tell me if he hurt you."
"Never. Never. Not with his hands. Odd, isn't it?"
"Miraculous." He pulled her close to his heart.
"I don't know why he never hit me. But as I grew, I had a wariness of him."
"You'd learned how to escape him."
"I did. I remember when I was ten, he came after me for some imagined transgression and I threatened him with an andiron. I was by that time taller than he...and he backed away. He never tried to hurt me. Never again."
Rory stroked her spine and kissed her forehead.
"But as he encountered more financial troubles, he became more volatile. He took out his frustrations on my mother."
"And you? Where were you?"
"Frequently off at Miss Shipley's school or at my Aunt Courtland's."
"Did your aunt know about him?"
She pulled away. "I asked her last week about that. She did. She does not understand it now nor did she then. More, she cannot understand why my mother tolerated him nor why today, she cries for him now that he is gone."
"Fee. You have suffered. Even if he did not put his hands to you, you suffered."
"Did I? I think I found a way to live with it. I feared him yes. But as years went on, I feared him less and despised him more." She put a hand to his cheek. "But there is more—and it may not mean anything or it may be more."
"I must hear it."
She nodded and frowned. "When he became enraged, he had a litany he shouted. His financial problems were the fault of 'The List'. The list, you see, consisted of four names. His nemeses. His devils. Those who were responsible for his problems. Avery, Kinard, Linley and Charlton."
