She let out a half laugh, half sob. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s simply... I feel like a part of me—some part that was perhaps buried but not dead—is, in a way, unfurling. It’s reaching for the light.” She sucked in a tearful breath.
“Please do not cr—”
“It’s not sadness,” she assured him. “I feel very much alive. Living can make you cry, can it not? Living can be painful.”
“Yes,” he said. He closed his eyes. “Living can be painful. Would you like to see the articles in the broadsheets?”
“Oh absolutely. Do you have them?”
“Not with me, but I can show you.” He gave her a slight squeeze and released her.
Dani slid her hands from his shoulders and stepped away. She took the hem of her apron and patted her puffy face. She looked at the dusty hall. She took up the broom again and began to sweep.A sister, she thought.Elise.In London.
“If I have the papers, I can share them with Miriam and Whittle,” she mused.
“Share them?”
“Well, I’ll want Whittle and Miriam to see the good news. They’ll be hesitant at first, perhaps, but it will pave the way. If ever I am to meet her. No more surprises.”
“How considerate you are. Your thoughtfulness is a credit to you.”
She shrugged. “It’s impossible to remain cross with Miriam and Whittle. Perhaps you feel the same way about your surrogate father?”
“Sorry?”
Dani paused in her work, watching him. “The man who brought you up? Mr. Kelty, was it?”
“Welty,” he said quietly, turning away. “Linus Welty.”
“Right. Is he easy to forgive, in view of his love for you?”
“He is...” began the captain, but then he trailed off.
Dani paused in her sweeping to study his back—broad shoulders beneath the fine wool of his coat. Had she offended him by mentioning this man? It frustrated her—not knowing exactly how to navigate their conversations, and she’d grown too fond of him to risk saying the wrong thing.
“Sorry,” she offered. “It is rude of me to pry.”
“It’s no intrusion,” he said. “It’s simply, I can think of no occasion where he might seek my forgiveness. On the contrary, it should be me, asking for his forgiveness.”
“Oh?” she said carefully, eyeing him. She willed him to say more. She willed him to say anything about his life before he met her.
“Forgive me,” he said dismissively. His expression was closed off. “You’ve absorbed enough personal information. I’ll not heap on more. You’ve learned the history of your life, all in a week’s time.”
“Well, a very abbreviated version, full of gaps. Maybe I wanted to hear someone else’s story. To balance things out.”
For a long moment, he said nothing. Finally he said, “Another time, perhaps. Twice now, I’ve brought on tears; that is enough for one day, surely. Let me get those newspapers for you, shall I?”
Dani was disappointed, but she wanted desperately to read of this woman called Elise who might be her sister. “Alright, Captain,” she said.
And then she added, “May I speak with Abbott about his staffing choices? For Eastwell? The absolute most important thing is that he hire locals. The correct talent for the correct jobs—certainly. But locals above all. Miriam will help me.”
“Of course you should speak to Abbott,” he told her, pulling on his gloves. “I’m on my way there now. I’ll collect the papers and send Abbott to you straightaway. Work with your mother—in fact, allow your parents to choose a suite of rooms for their use. You should make the house your own; arrange it however you like it.”
Chapter 14
Luke devoted five days to procuring a bloody tiara. He knew bollocks about crowns, but he refused to present Princess Danielle with a cheap replica or a gaudy costume piece. He wanted something unique and beautiful, something suited to the woman who would wear it. He wanted her—for reasons he didn’t understand—to love it. He also wanted to occupy himself with something more than the lies of omissions, the half-truths, and the falsehoods he’d been spinning. He needed, it was clear, to think of anything else. With their wedding only days away, there was plenty to occupy his mind, but sorting out the crown was his preferred distraction.
As with all things since he’d arrived in Kent, there was no time to research tiaras or the French crown jewels. His only advantage was his smuggling network. Luke’s trade dealt mostly in guns, brandy, and silk, but he’d bought and sold his share of antiquities. In Cornwall, he would’ve known the best man to approach; but he wasn’t in Cornwall and there was no time to go back. The jeweler who’d sold him the ring had nothing like a crown in his inventory, so he’d ridden to the harbor in nearby Whitstable. He would find a black-market captain with a fast boat and diverse contacts, and pay that man to get his hands on a crown.
