And then . . . another.
His entire frame shook.
Leah held him tight, letting her presence stand as a witness to his grief.
Questions crowded her mind. What about Madeline’s father? Surely, he was the one threatening to take her away? And why all the letters from the Archbishop of Canterbury and solicitors in London?
“Madeline’s father . . .” Leah began tentatively.
Fox shook his head, sharp and decisive. “I will say nothing aboutthatman.” Venom laced his tone. “To do so threatens Madeline’s safety.”
Leah licked her lips, mind racing, drawing conclusions from the spaces of silence within Fox’s narrative.
Madeline’s father was a powerful man, someone who did not wish the presence of an illegitimate by-blow to be known. Someone more influential than Fox’s money and position in society.
“Thank ye for your trust in me. I will always keep your secrets, husband.” Leah pulled back enough to look him in the eyes, arms still tight around his waist. “And we will forge a bright future for Madeline, despite her illegitimacy and the stigma of her birth.”
Alongpause.
Fox stared down at her, blue eyes dark in the dim room. “I never said Madeline was illegitimate.”
Leah blinked, her mouth a frozen ‘O’ and surely looking far too much like a gasping salmon.
That was . . . unexpected.
“She is legitimate, then?”
Fox sighed. “It’s complicated.”
“How can legitimacy be complicated? Either it is not or it is.”
“I wish I could say more, but . . .” He drifted off with a defeated shrug.
They stared at one another for the space of one heartbeat. Then . . two.
“I suppose, in the end, the past is done,” she said reluctantly. “We cannae change it. But the future . . . that is still ours tae form. And in that vein, what shape do ye want your future tae take? For Madeline? For yourself?”
He snorted softly and shifted his hands where they held her, loosening them slightly.
The air between them felt heated, and Leah knew she should release him. Let go and step back, allowing him freedom.
And yet . . .
“What do I want for Madeline? For myself?” he repeated her questions slowly, as if tasting the novelty of them. “I suppose the answer is the same. I want those I love to stay, to remain living and true. For them not to leave me, whether through death or betrayal.”
He looked down at her then.
Those I love . . .
The words hung between them, causing Leah’s heart to sink. Would she ever be counted in that number?
“And what about you?” he turned the question back on her. “What do you want?”
I want ye to love me.
The thought arrowed through her before she could stop it.
But, of course, once the thought lodged in her brain, it felt impossible to think of anything else.
