“I am not the marrying sort,” he said.
“So you’ve settled yourself on being a bachelor?”
“Something like that.”
She absently ran her fingers against the hairs curling across his torso. “But what of your duty to produce an heir?” she asked. “Without an heir, your name will die out.”
“There are enough bastards, legitimate and otherwise, in the world without me adding to them.” He shrugged. “If the name dies out, so be it. There’s nothing inherently magical or important about my family name.”
“What if your own family had had that attitude? Then you would not exist. Shouldn’t that count for something?” She could not understand a man who could so passionately commit to his quest for Atlantis, yet felt no pull of familial duty. Her entire life was about familial obligation; it was all she knew. How could she be drawn to a man who was so foreign to everything she understood?
“It should, but it doesn’t.” He rolled over to face her, and his expression was stern, all lines and contours, but he placed his hand on her hip and his touch was gentle. “My parents got married young and successfully had three children right away. One girl after another. Not exactly what a marquess wants for his family name, but at least my sisters presented opportunities to marry well and bring more money and prestige to the family.”
Sabine said nothing, simply allowed him to talk and rub his hand down her hip. When he wasn’t using his charming façade, there was a man beneath—a man with emotions and scars, and in this moment, she was getting a glimpse. Like a hunter in a deer’s path, she didn’t dare move and risk spooking him.
“Five years after my last sister was born, my brother came along. Finally, the heir,” he said with much formality. “The family was complete.” His eyes darkened, and his hand on her hip stilled. “Then another three years, and it was my turn. The leftover child—they already had their heir—and I would never bring them money as my sisters would, instead I would cost them. They had to send me to school. Pay for me to marry.”
He said nothing more for several moments. So she ventured, “You once told me you were alone, that you had no family. What happened to all of them?”
“Our family estate in Devonshire was destroyed in a fire. It was at night, while everyone slept. They were all inside,” he said.
“And where were you?” she asked.
“I was off digging in a cave looking for an ancient map.” He smiled ruefully. “I was trying to do something, anything that would garner their attention…” His voice trailed off.
“How old were you?” she asked quietly.
“Seventeen. We lost everything.” He laughed, though his chuckle held no humor. “All but that singed spear I keep in my office. Everything else I have, I built.”
A boy, not yet quite a man, and he had come home with such hopes only to discover his entire family had perished.
On top of that, he’d inherited a title and duties he’d never asked for. But instead of forging ahead and embracing his duties, he’d gone in the opposite direction—tried to sever all ties he had with anyone so that child he’d been would never again experience pain and loss.
She knew a little about that sort of thing.
CHAPTER19
He hadn’t told many people that story before and knew he had probably revealed more than he had wanted. Yet he’d felt compelled to share it with her. So often he smiled or quipped and shifted the subject away from the uncomfortable parts of his life. But she’d asked as if she truly cared, as if she’d wanted to know the man he was beneath the legend hunter.
She looked up as if she had an additional question.
He might not regret sharing what he’d just told her, but he was done opening old wounds for the evening. Sabine had her own secrets that she still had yet to reveal to him. She hadn’t trusted him, not truly. Damned if that didn’t infuriate him.
“Your mother was a guardian,” Max said before she could speak.
She sat, clutching the sheet to her chest and looking at him, her expression one of great surprise. “How did you—”
“Those letters we found in Phinneas’s house. I’ve been reading through all of them. I’ve found the letters from Phinneas the most helpful, but a few of Agnes’s were useful, too,” he said.
She frowned. “But those were simply love letters,” she said softly. “I’ve read through most of them, and while I found their love story intriguing, there was nothing helpful. And I don’t recall seeing anything that stated that my mother was a guardian.”
He propped himself on one elbow. “True, but they spoke of other things. Hidden within the letters. I discovered their code. In more than one, your aunt mentions her eldest sister and how the village was scandalized when she was revealed as the guardian.”
“The first female guardian my people had ever had,” Sabine said, obviously resigned to no longer denying the truth.
“At first, I thought she meant Lydia, but in another letter she used her name,” he said.
“Isadora,” Sabine supplied. “What code?” She frowned. “Agnes mentioned nothing of a secret code. I read them only as love letters.”
