“She knows I have obligations.”
“That was not my question.”
He moved to the window, scanning the tree line automatically.
“She does not need details.”
“Is that kindness,” his sister asked softly, “or distance?”
He did not answer.
“You have always believed you must carry everything alone,” she continued.
“This is not everything.”
“It is enough.”
He turned back toward her.
“The fewer who know that I am here this often, the fewer who can be harmed.”
“And Margaret would be harmed by knowing?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“By association.”
His sister watched him closely.
“Or by exclusion? She knows who I am, Nathaniel. Pretending that you are not here will only lead to more distrust.”
Silence lingered. The boy stirred faintly. She bent to adjust the blanket. He wanted to tell Margaret, but he knew it would not end there. She would want to accompany him, to assist him, and he could not allow her to. Eliza was the one responsibility that was his alone, and she had already put him to shame in regard to running the household.
He did not need her to be a better sister to Eliza than he had been as a brother.
“I have not forgotten what it is to feel shut out,” she said quietly.
“This is temporary,” he said.
“So you tell yourself.”
“It is.”
She looked up at him.
“And when it is no longer necessary?”
“Then I will return my full attention to Ravensmere.”
“And to your wife?”
“Yes.”
She studied him, searching.
“Do you believe she requires only provision?” she asked.
