He exhaled loudly. “Palais de le Secours, my family’s estate near Trequin Bay.”
“Is it by the sea, then?”
Again, he nodded. “much of the northwest border is coastline.”
“It sounds lovely.” She didn’t want to ruin his forthcoming mood by asking more questions, so she pinched her lips shut.
“It is my sister who is the difficult one.” For once he seemed to wish to be forthcoming. Perhaps because it was doubtful Aubrey would ever meet the girl. Perhaps he simply needed to share his burdens with someone, anyone.
“How so?”
“Before my father died, she was… high-spirited, more emotional than most.” He tossed a rock into the fire. “Afterward… I quickly learned that she was not to be trusted. She has a knack for doing the opposite of what she ought to do. She’d tell me she was staying with a family friend and I’d discover she was… not. She’s…” His jaw tightened.
“She must have felt very lost after your father died.” Aubrey hated that anything troubled him so much. “I’m sure you did your best.”
The muscles clenched all along his neck this time. “It wasn’t enough.” And rising to his feet. “We’d best break camp if we’re to get on the road before half the day is gone.”
He dropped the curtain over his life once again.
Both satisfied and yet also wishing he’d tell her more, Aubrey put the remainder of the food in Mr. Dog’s small bowl and poured what was left of the milk onto it. Had Mr. Bateman shared more than he wanted to? But no, she did not think that was what bothered him. She watched the dog do his best to break down the food into pieces he could swallow, pondering what her traveling companion had revealed.
“Want to help me shake these out,Princesse?” Mr. Bateman had taken down the tent and was holding one of the quilts up.
Happy to help him with anything that might quiet her mind, she left Mr. Dog to his food and took hold of the corners at one end of the quilt. They shook it a few times and then folded it perfectly, as though they’d done it a thousand times together.
“How old is your sister?” Aubrey’s curiosity wouldn’t allow her to leave the conversation unfinished.
“She’s two years younger than me.”
So older than herself by about three years.
“Has she learned from her mistakes?” She couldn’t help but hope the young woman could see how her actions affected others.
Mr. Bateman took the corners of a second quilt from her and executed the last fold. “She has. Finally. I only wish…” He turned away and stuffed the quilt into the larger of her two trunks.
“You only wish, what, Mr. Bateman?”
“I only wish she would have learned earlier.” His smile was a grim one, spurring Aubrey into changing the subject to a happier one.
“I believe that when I arrive in England, I’ll purchase Mr. Dog a jeweled collar. Nothing expensive, mind you. But something he can be proud of.”
“You’ll emasculate the old boy.” Warmth spread through Aubrey upon seeing the tender expression he sent Mr. Dog’s way. Also, just to hear that hint of laughter in dear Mr. Bateman’s voice again. And then he asked, “are you in a hurry to get to London?”
Aubrey’s heart stilled. “I am in no particular hurry. But what of your Birthday celebration?”
“We’re making good time. What would you think if we were to deviate off the main road in order to visit a place of interest, for… educational purposes?”
“For pleasure?” She grinned. The idea was a foreign one but not unwelcome at all.
“Yes, Mrs. Bloomington, for pleasure.” Something in the way he addressed her formally, in a gravelly tone, sent a shiver down her spine.
“Where exactly will this roundabout excursion take us to, Mr. Bateman?”
“Non. You’ll simply have to trust me. Do you trust me?”
Crazily enough, she did. “Deviate, we shall.”
With a glance around, he closed the lid of the trunk, fastening the closure, and then hefted it onto the back of the carriage. “We’d best be taking leave of our camp, then.”
