“If only everyone did,” he muttered.
She stepped inside the outbuilding and shut the door before Dancer could escape. “Did someone say that helping people was not the right choice?”
“Everyone I know,” he said flatly. “Although not in those words. Only my father put it quite so baldly. My sole responsibility is to stay alive to ensure the family home doesn’t go to some country cousin.”
“You haven’t any brothers?” she asked.
“No siblings at all.” He pulled the bag of feed to his lap and began tossing seeds near the partridge. “How about you? Are you an only child?”
She shook her head.
His eyebrows shot up. “You’re not? Where’s your family? Why am I just hearing about this?”
“They’re not here,” she said vaguely. “And you’re the first one to ask.”
She wished he hadn’t. She was not fond of Vera, Viveca, and Valeria. And she knew good and well they were not fond of her. It was not a story she planned to share.
“You were brave to go against your parents’ wishes,” Virginia said instead.
“My first rebellion against Father and Society.” He gestured at the chair. “Look how it turned out.”
“You’re alive,” she said simply. “It turned out quite favorably indeed.”
“It could be worse,” he admitted.
She tilted her head. “You do not seem the sort who allows life to just happen.”
The corner of his mouth twisted into a smile.
“I am the sort to charge in,” he agreed. “The Army suited me in that regard. A cause to fight for, troops to lead. It may sound silly, but it was quite vindicating to be powerful and needed.”
“Not silly at all,” she whispered.
He tossed the bag of seed back to the ground and watched as Dancer clucked through her bounty in delight.
“Do you miss the war?” she asked.
“Never give up and never give in,” he answered. “This injury robbed me of the choice. I did not give up and I did not give in, but I was carried from the battlefield anyway.”
“With broken bones and bullet wounds,” she reminded him.
“I had so much more to give.” He turned to look at her. “As a respected officer, not as my father’s shadow.”
Virginia’s heart twisted. Her case was different, but she understood the sentiment all too well. She had longed her entire life to be accepted for who she was, not rejected for who she was not.
She would run away to the war, too, if it could give her a chance to belong.
Theodore turned toward the exit of the outbuilding and pulled open the door.
When he made no move to precede her into the afternoon sun, Virginia thanked him and slipped outside.
Together, they headed back to the planks at the rear of the cottage. As she reached out to open the servants’ door, his fingers brushed her free hand.
“Step to the side,” he murmured. “Or he’ll get you.”
She pulled the handle. “Whowill—”
Duke streaked through the crack in the door and barreled right at them.
