The duke nodded. “I know you said that she had no part in taking you.”
“She didn’t,” Ella said. “My father—”
She froze.
“It’s all right,” the duke said kindly. “He was your father for as long as you remembered. I understand.”
Ella nodded and continued, “My father had me before they came into the picture. I don’t know where exactly she came from, but I know she was not a part of me being taken from you.”
“If she was, she would be in jail by now,” the duke said in all seriousness.
Ella widened her eyes at him, and he shrugged.
“What do you expect?” he said. “My daughter was stolen from me. If I knew who did it, they would pay. I hope you don’t blame me for that.”
“I don’t,” Ella reassured him, although it did make her shiver to think of how fiercely he was protecting her.
He barely knew her, yet he sounded ready to wage a war to keep her safe.
Was this what love was?
“I am glad that you are eager to protect me and my sisters,” she added.
Dietrich had sounded the same way when she’d gone to the café on her own. Did he know that her father felt this way and was prepared to wage war on her behalf…or had those been his own feelings?
“I will never let anything happen to any of you again, if it is in my power to prevent it. I’m only sorry that I could not protect you so long ago.”
“It is not your fault,” Ella said, for perhaps the fiftieth time since she had come back. “I don’t blame you.”
“I’m thankful that you don’t, though I am sure I deserve to be blamed.”
Ella laughed. “There is no reason for you to be blamed. I’m the one who walked out of the gate.”
“You walked out?” Her father frowned. “And no one stopped you?”
Ella thought for a moment. How did she know that she had walked out?
It was there in her mind, clear as day.
She’d walked through the gate, on her own, her pumpkin in hand.
“I think that’s a new memory,” she said, frowning to herself. “I did walk out.”
“You should not have been unattended,” he said, his jaw clenching. “If your old nursemaid was still here, she would no longer be.” He looked fierce, gripping the edge of his desk, his knuckles turning white.
Ella laughed. “You cannot fire everyone who may have been involved in my disappearance all those years ago.”
“Actually, I can, and I might. You were lost for too many years because of their negligence.”
“It is not necessary,” Ella said softly, getting to her feet and making her way around the side of his desk. “It is in the past. Let us move forward.”
“I don’t want to just move forward,” her father said, turning in his seat to face her. “I want to know what happened.”
“I understand,” Ella said, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. It felt right, despite it being the first time she’d done anything like that. “But if you spend too long looking for answers, you just might miss what is happening in front of you.”
“You are very wise, my daughter,” her father said, getting to his feet, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, and tucking it behind her ear.
“I don’t know about that,” Ella said bashfully. “But I do know that I wish for us to spend time together and not spend all our time focusing on the past. And if you wish to have two balls to celebrate, then we can do that—as long as I get to dance the first dance with you.”
