She scoffed. “Annette said I’d have to give it up, that a husband will never allow it. If that’s the case, I simply won’t marry.”
She was relieved to hear him chuckle. “Stubborn, princess? Over trivialities?”
She loved when he called her by that endearment. It always made her feel special. She was glad that odd tension had left his demeanor, but she certainly didn’t consider any of this trivial. This was a turning point in her life they were discussing.
But he wasn’t finished. “I suppose I should have been more specific instead of just suggesting that you don’t need to follow the pack if you don’t want to. Alana, I didn’t want you to marry yet. I don’t care if it’s a social standard. You’re young. There was no hurry. And I wasn’t ready to face . . .”
“Losing me?” she guessed when he didn’t continue. “That won’t happen. But I really wish we’d had this talk sooner. I let all this converge on me as if there were a deadline on making a decision—today.”
She chuckled at herself, relieved, but only for moment. Poppie looked tense again. She realized two other things that brought back her own dread. He’d said she could have continued teaching, not that she could continue. And she’d just made an assumption when he’d taught her never to do that, and he’d let her because it was a way of delaying what he had to tell her. His momentous decision.
Hesitantly, hoping he’d deny it, she said, “None of this matters now, does it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I always knew this day would come, when I would have to tell you the truth. I thought I would have more time, a few more years at least. I thought you could have this introduction to society with your friends and simply enjoy it without feeling pressured about marriage. You’ve worked so hard at your studies, I wanted you to have a little fun and frivolity. I felt you deserved it. But I was taking a risk in allowing it.”
“A risk for me to have fun? That makes no—”
“No, a risk that despite my assurances that you didn’t have to think of marriage yet, some young man still might have caught your fancy at one of the many parties you were to attend. That would have forced my hand because your marriage is much too important to squander here.”
“Here? But you like the English! You raised me to be English. I’ve spent my whole life here, so where else would I marry—?” She cut herself off with a gasp. “Surely not Lubinia!?” He didn’t deny it, which made her incredulous enough to remind him, “When I asked you about our homeland, you said it was a backward country, nigh medieval in some ways, that we were lucky to escape it. You warned me never to tell anyone that we were born there, that we should say we are from Austria instead, because they’d end up looking down on us if they knew we were Lubinians. And I didn’t tell anyone the truth because even the one tutor I had who included Lubinia in my studies didn’t contradict what you said. He confirmed that it’s a backward country whose progress has been hindered by its isolation. You can’t possibly want me to marry there,” she ended with disdain.
He was shaking his head at her, but she knew immediately that it was because he was disappointed by the abhorrence she’d just revealed. “It’s highly doubtful that you will have to, but it’s not our decision to—” He stopped, waving that thought away to address her attitude. “I am surprised at you. From a few remarks you developed contempt for your own country?”
“That isn’t fair. You didn’t want me to even claim it as mine. What else was I to think?”
“There was a reason for that, and not the one I gave you. But I expected you to form your own opinion someday when you had more facts, when you could read about the beauty of the country and its culture that lies beyond its rough edges. Obviously it’s my mistake for not instilling in you some pride in our homeland sooner, and there is much to be proud of.”
“Perhaps—I overreacted,” she said, abashed.
He smiled at her with a light reprimand. “Yes, and to an issue that isn’t even an issue yet. You don’t need to think about a marriage that isn’t even remotely imminent. I only mentioned it to explain what would have eventually been the catalyst for this discussion. But something else has occurred recently and became the catalyst instead.”
She didn’t want to hear it when instinctively she knew what had changed his timing—he’d been told he was dying. He never dressed warmly enough when he went out, and he went out so often, to the orphanage, to the wine shop he owned; and at least once a week without fail, warm weather or cold, he took one of the orphans on a special outing. Oh, God, what had he caught that was killing him? He didn’t look sick. . . .
“I love you, princess. Never doubt that. But you and I aren’t family. We aren’t related at all.”
Her panic receded immediately. That news was—distressing, shocking. But it certainly wasn’t as bad as what she’d just been thinking. Was she the first orphan he’d helped? He’d helped so many, it wasn’t really surprising that he’d begun doing so by taking in one to raise.
“Did I really have to know that?” she asked.
“That is only a minor part of what I have to tell you.”
Oh, God, there was more? “Why don’t we have dinner first?” Alana quickly suggested.
He gave her a knowing look. “Calm yourself and don’t jump to any more conclusions. You know better.”
She blushed. These were things he’d taught her. Facts first. Intuition only as a last resort. And he was giving her facts. She just didn’t want to hear them!
Obviously he guessed as much because he remarked, “Before we got here, I actually thought about farming.”
That was so out of context, she blinked. Was he trying to distract her to calm her down? It worked—a little. But then it clicked. “Farmer isn’t your real name, is it?”
“No. But when we arrived in this bustling city, I realized the best way to hide us would be in plain sight right in the city, so I gave up any thoughts of farming. It was still a good name, solid, and it didn’t sound foreign. It fit in, just as we fit in.” He smiled when he added, “I did try gardening, though. I even found it rather peaceful for a few months, but then I gave it up.”
“Too boring compared to what you used to do?”
