She waved away his concern. “You have every right to be skeptical. I’m not certain that I even know what I mean, but I want to learn with you, Rhys. I don’t want to be left behind while you study all manner of wonderful things.”
“Wouldn’t it bore you?”
“That remark was condescending and not worthy of you. If you find this business fascinating, who is to say I won’t? Let me at least have the opportunity to discover it for myself.”
It has been years since Rhys had seen so much fire in Kenna’s eyes. As much as he enjoyed it he still felt compelled to warn her. “I can’t let you disrupt things by getting up to mischief. This isn’t some lark, sprite.”
There it was again, that odious nickname. He was bent on remembering her as a rattle-brained child. “I know that. I have every intention of applying myself to the best of my abilities. Please, Rhys. Let me learn. I’m starving for it.” Only now did she realize how much she missed challenging her mind.
“This isn’t the schoolroom,” Rhys said gently.
“But it is,” she insisted. “In a way it still is. I cannot be a conventional wife, Rhys. It would bore me beyond all reason. Why as quick as that”—she snapped her fingers—“you would find cause to send me to an asylum!”
Rhys grinned at this dramatic announcement. “No doubt I should send myself to one of those places,” he muttered under his breath. He glanced at the scraps of fabric that littered the window seat. The haphazard pile of material bore mute testimony to the fact that while Kenna was a capable seamstress, she disliked the activity. “I think I have always known that you would not suit convention, though these last few years gave me pause. You were fairly drowning in the miserable stuff by the time I returned from the Peninsula.”
“It is cruel of you to remind me what a prig I was.”
“I doubt I would have phrased it just so.”
“Well, it matters not, for it is all behind me now.” She leaned forward in her chair. “You must feel it, Rhys. The excitement of a new beginning in America. For me it is like being reborn. Don’t raise your eyebrows! I am not overstating what I feel.” she said. “I have left everything behind in England, left everyone but you. You forced this new life upon me, but please have the kindness to permit me to live it as I wish. I cannot fill my hours with good works as Yvonne does or wait on you as Victorine would want me to do. I—”
Rhys held up his hands, cutting her off. “A moment, if you please. I am not married to Yvonne or Victorine. I have no desire for you to emulate either of those lovely women if it goes against your grain. I want you to be happy.”
Kenna realized it was rather small of her, but she would have been happier if he had left out the word lovely. “Then you’ll let me learn with you?”
“As long as you wish,” he said easily as if he had never considered otherwise.
Kenna stood and skirted the edge of the table. Her arms came around Rhys from behind, hugging his neck and shoulders. She dropped a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you. You won’t regret this. I promise I won’t interfere with your work. Oh, thank you!” She would have pulled away then but Rhys had taken hold of her slender wrists and was drawing her around the chair. “What are—”
“Come here.” He slid back his chair and in the same motion pulled Kenna onto his lap. “If you are of a mind to thank me, do it properly.”
Kenna pressed her forehead to his and said softly, “I haven’t the vaguest notion what you mean.”
“You are the most lamentable liar. Kiss me.”
Kenna kissed the tip of his nose.
“On the mouth.”
She obliged enthusiastically. When she thought she had responded properly, Kenna drew back and laid her head against the curve of Rhys’s shoulder. She felt a rumble of laughter stirring in his chest and she had to smile herself.
“You are rather more obedient than I would have thought possible,” he said.
“When it suits me.”
“Just as I thought. I wish you had been so affectionate when you came on deck this morning. It seemed you couldn’t wait to be gone from my presence.”
“You have interpreted the situation badly. It was you who wanted me gone.”
Rhys shook his head. “I didn’t want you to go, but neither could I offer you an escort around the deck or companionship at breakfast. I may be the head of Canning Shipping when I am in Boston but I made it quite clear to Johnson that while I am on board I work for him. I had not expected him to take such delight in stealing you away.” Rhys bent his head and touched her forehead with his lips. “In truth, I did not expect you to find my company worth seeking.”
Kenna could not blame him for that and she told him so. “I have not always been kind to you, but you have invariably been tolerant of me. Why?”
Rhys knew himself to be a coward then. He could not bring himself to lay bare the entire truth. “Do you remember when we first met, sprite? You were a guileless four-year-old and I was a very solemn eleven. As I recall you climbed onto my lap much as you have now and proceeded to greet me with a very wet, affectionate kiss.”
His voice was soft with the memory. “That innocent overture was the first time in my life anyone had touched me with feeling. I suppose that’s why I’ve never forgotten it. You changed me that day, Kenna. You gave me reason to hope that I could be loved. How could I banish you from my pockets after that, or not take part in your every scrape, or refuse to help even when you wanted none of me? You make me feel alive. That is far more than I have ever done for you.”
Kenna’s hands slid around him, hugging Rhys to her. “You’re wrong, you know. You saved my life.”
