He stood beside her, his posture as composed as ever, though she caught the flicker of something in his expression—a quiet anticipation, perhaps. He had returned to a place that had once been his home, and though he had spoken little of it during their journey, she wondered how he felt stepping onto its shores again. Had he missed it? Was he glad to be back?
With a sudden pang, she realized this was still his home. Not England. He had accompanied his friend and had been staying with them for several months. A guest in their homes. But he never said he would stay in England. He had not set roots there. What if he intended to remain in New York? Surely, he wouldn’t, not after what they had shared…
But there had been no promises between them. He never spoke of the future, other than in terms of her rehabilitation. Maybe he didn’t see their relationship as something permanent. She had considered nothing at all. Stupid, really. For a lady of her years, to fall headfirst into an affair without considering the possibilities. But she had found so much happiness in his arms. Had felt so cherished and secure that nothing else had mattered at the moment. Perhaps that had been the biggest surprise of all. She was no nubile girl, no extraordinary beauty. She wasn’t even a woman in good health. Yet he, who knew her body’s limitations better than anyone, wanted her with intense vigor.
Their relationship had bloomed easily. Like a flower in spring. Unfurling its petals, reaching for the sun. She had enjoyed its beauty, reveled in the joy she had found. But flowers were notoriously ephemeral. They never lasted beyond one season. Was their season running its course as well?
Esther didn’t want to believe what they had was transient. It seemed so solid. So real. She reached out and slid her hand into his. Seeking his comfort and reassurance. His fingers closed around hers, and he looked down and offered a warm smile. It assuaged some of her fears. But couldn’t banish the cold tendrilsof doubt that had sneaked through their summer. At some point, she would have to ask him what he intended.
And hope it was what her heart desired.
“Time to disembark,” Wang murmured, giving her hand a little squeeze. “Are you ready?”
“Certainly. I’ve been ready for a long time.”
The gangplank swayed under their weight as they descended, the crowd thick with men in work-worn coats, ladies lifting their skirts to avoid the grime of the docks, and porters shouting offers to carry luggage. Their trunks were swiftly loaded onto a hired carriage, and within minutes, they were jostling through the streets of New York.
Esther pressed her face to the carriage window as they rode. The city was alive in a way unlike London—louder, brasher, filled with a restless energy that thrummed through its very stones. They passed grand townhouses with wrought-iron balconies, rows of tidy brownstones, and storefronts with bold signs.
At last, they arrived on a quiet, tree-lined street. Wang informed her this neighborhood was called Kips Bay, and that it was home to professionals, doctors, and merchants. He had made his residence here because it was close to the hospital.
The coach stopped in front of a four-story brownstone, its red-brick façade softened by ivy creeping along the wrought-iron railings. The exterior was neat, the entrance framed by polished railings and a tidy stoop. As he had said, it wasn’t as grand as the townhouse where she lived in London, but then, that wasn’t her townhouse anymore. It belonged to Colin and Abigail now. She was the dowager countess, and when she returned, she should start looking for another residence for herself and her daughter.
Oh, she was sure Colin and Abigail would gladly allow her to live with them—they might even insist on it. But they were a young couple who needed to make their own home withouthaving the dowager underfoot. When she began her search for her residence, something like this townhouse would be perfect.
As was his custom, Wang got off the coach first and arranged for her chair and all their luggage to be brought inside, then he came and picked her up, carrying her up the short flight of steps. He had carried her through countless doors by now, and yet, the gesture of bringing her through the threshold of his home felt poignant, significant. It was very reminiscent of what a groom did when he first brought his bride home.
Nonsense, of course. Her own maudlin thoughts were making her see things in a different light.
“Welcome home, my lady,” he said, depositing her with the utmost care on a comfortable chair.
She smiled, looking around. Inside, the home was spacious and neat—not ostentatious, but almost stark in its simplicity. And undeniably his. She could see it in the carefully chosen details—the jade figurine upon the mantel, the books lined in perfect order, the faint scent of tea that lingered in the air.
“It’s a lovely residence. How long have you lived here?”
“About five years now. I moved in after we opened the hospital, which is at the end of the street.”
“You have all this here.” She waved her hand to encompass the room. “And yet you left your home and your job at the hospital to accompany Colin across the ocean.”
Wang’s shoulders bobbed in a shrug. “Colin is my friend. When I agreed to teach him Kung Fu, I became his Shifù. That’s a mentor of sorts. A responsibility not to be taken lightly. Despite him being estranged from his father, I know his death affected him. I watched him suffer when he lost his mother. Now he had lost his father, and his entire life was being upended. I…couldn’t leave him alone at that crucial time.”
“Colin is lucky to have a friend like you,” she said, moved by his loyalty.
“I owe much to him and his mother as well. They saved me in more ways than one.”
She tilted her head with curiosity. “How so?”
His gaze moved away, to stare into the empty hearth. She thought he would not answer, but he said. “It’s a long story, but I was on a path toward destruction. They helped me find my way.”
“What was Colin’s mother like?”
He smiled with fond reminiscence. “She was a force of nature. Smart, passionate, bold. Always managed her life as she saw fit and made her opinions known. She believed women deserved the same freedoms and opportunities as men and faced every challenge head-on. Fiercely devoted to her son. Sometimes impetuous, but always courageous and generous. A very fine lady.”
“You sound as if you were very fond of her.” A sliver of nonsensical jealousy must have shown in her voice, for he looked at her quizzically.
“I was not romantically involved with her, if that’s what you are thinking.”
“Oh, no. I didn’t mean… Even if you were, it’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s just… I’ve always been curious about her, but couldn’t ask anyone. My husband forbade everyone to speak about his previous wife. But I always thought he was still in love with her.”
