“Yes.”
“So, I remembered correctly.” She gave him a small smile.
“Did you not fear slipping on the narrow stairs that give access to my balcony in your heeled boots?”
She lifted the hem of her gown and stared at her costly leather boots. “A fool’s errand would not have kept me away from those doors.” She gestured at the glass. “I saw light from below and knew you must be within these hallowed walls. I prayed you were, James. I prayed for many things as the night of our reunion drew near.”
James could not, would not, give in to her honeyed words. He shook his head and paced across the room, then back. “Why did your father withhold you from me? It is no secret he disliked me for receiving the winning bids on several properties about London, but…”
“James, he wished me for another.”
“Who precisely?”
“Anyone but you.”
His heart began to thunder—anger cresting inside him again. How could any man wish misery upon his only child? “Did you miss me, my dear?”
“Oh, James.” She ran across the room to him, but he held her at arm’s length, still suspicious of her.
“You are not real.”
Her mouth opened, then closed.
“I am dreaming. Dreading another moment without you.”
“No,” she said, wriggling free of his hold and resting her palms on his arms. “You are wide awake and seeing me for the first time in five years. You are not going mad, James, but only shocked by my return.”
He repeated those words inside his mind.I am not mad. I am not mad.
“What town in Greece?” he asked suddenly.
“Oia,” she said. “A village on the island of Santorini.”
He rubbed his stubbled chin, aware of the beauty of the place. So remote, so distant… A perfect location to hold her captive. “And who saw to your daily needs?”
“Sophia and her sons.”
“Where are they now?”
“I know not. For the old woman took ill before I left, and her sons took her away, leaving me to fend for myself.”
“When did your father’s letter arrive?”
“A month ago.” She went to the reading table and opened her reticule and withdrew an envelope. “Read it for yourself.”
He took the missive and read it over several times. Her father’s official seal was on the envelope, and James recognized his signature. It seemed she was telling the truth. But that truth burned a hole in his soul. Why hadn’t she fought harder to get away, to get word to him? Of course, why hadn’t he fought harder to find her?
He fisted his hand, crumpling the paper. “Damn your father.” Then he walked to the hearth and threw the letter in the flames. He watched the outer edges burn slowly at first, then ignite, turned to ash.
Several tears rolled down her cheeks. “I have cursed him enough for both of us. There is no need to condemn him, he is dying.”
“Yes.” James wanted him dead. He wanted the old, bitter man to suffer a slow, excruciating death. “Will you go to him?”
She pressed her lips together, seeming hesitant to answer. “Would you not go to your dying parent regardless of their past sins? If not for their good, for your own? I refuse to be cruel.”
She had given a proper answer, the right answer. The only one his Raven would be able to give. His admiration for her had never waned. She was as beautiful and honest as ever.
“James.”
