“I wanted to have an adventure,” he said. “My chance to pretend to be Prince Hal.”
“Prince Hal? From Shakespeare?”
“And other stories.”
“But why him? Wasn’t he a wastrel?”
“Wastrel? What quaint language you use.”
She laughed at the “scholarly” tone he had adopted. “It is the description Vicar Perry used. He was our tutor. ‘From wastrel to ruler,’ he said.”
Kit shrugged. “Perhaps I was a wastrel as well.”
“I can’t imagine you as one. You have too much talent, too many gifts. You could be whatever you wished.” She meant those words. She’d noticed how people reacted to Kit. He made them feel at ease and they were always eager to accommodate him.
Her compliment seemed to make everything about him tighten. “You don’t know me, Elise.”
She refused to be deterred. “Then tell me, Kit. Wanting to pretend you are Prince Hal—?”
“It was my favorite boyhood story.”
“Yes, but it sounds more as if you ran away. And that means something set you off.”
“Same as yourself?”
She didn’t balk at the description. “Is it what we have in common? What are you running from?”
Kit shook off her arm. She let him. He walked several steps before he said, “I needed to be away. The gambit of playing Prince Hal seemed as good of a ploy as any. It was a fancy. Go out into the country. Meet the people. See how they live.”
“Because?” she prodded.
“Because, who knows? It might make me a better man.” His expression said he didn’t believe that possible... that just like herself, he haddoubts, and possible betrayals of his own. And her heart hurt for him.
“Have you gained any insight or wisdom as Prince Hal?”
He held up a hand. “You’ve had your three questions.”
“I’ve always been one to push the boundaries.”
“Except it ismyturn.”
To her mind, their conversation had just taken a serious and important turn. She realized that she’d be wise to back off and give him a bit of room. “Very well. What questions do you have for me?”
“What do you value most?”
“Honesty,” she replied without missing a beat. “I don’t care what people say, as long as they are telling me the truth. No one is honest with each other in London.No one.And the truth becomes a waffly thing. Perhaps if I’d known the truth of Michael’s feelings earlier, I could have prepared myself.”
“Michael?”
Embarrassed heat rushed to her cheeks. She’d given away too much, and then decided it didn’t matter. Out of all the people in her life, she’d already been the most honest with Kit. And Michael was the past. “I’d wanted to be his wife.” She gave a little shrug before confessing, “Instead, he chose my sister.”
“Which one?”
“Dara.”
Kit made a face. “The one you compared me to? You claimed it was a compliment.”
She shook her head. “It is. Well, it isnow. I mean, I was angry when they expected me to live with them. That is what happens with unmarried sisters. They are expected to live with relatives.” She didn’t hide her bitterness. “I couldn’t watch them be so happy every day. And they are, Kit—very happy. Happy enough for me to be jealous.” There, she’d admitted it aloud. She’d been consumed with jealousy. “That was the reason I bolted. My pride was very hurt.”
