He rolled it in his big, rough palms. “This is not his ring. Have you remarried?”
“No. Not yet. You sound angry.” I balled my fist and shook it at the tall blur. “Are you disappointed that Adam wed a Blackamoor?”
Lord Wycliff chuckled. “No. Adam had fine tastes. Who would be disappointed in you?”
“Plenty.”
“You’re beautiful, well-mannered, a bit of a hot temper underneath. But you are to remarry?”
I lowered my hands to the desk and tried to pretend I didn’t hear the disappointment in his voice.
“An offer will come soon, so no getting ideas.” Ester’s voice was sharp.
“Then I’m on time to give my approval. You’re a Wilkinson. I’m the head of the family.”
“Lord Wycliff, I want nothing from you or your family. No money. Just answers.”
He was in front of me again, hovering.
“Mrs. Wilky.” His finger traced the scar on my temple, the mark I’d tried to hide with curls. “You suffered greatly from the attack. Yours and Adam’s enemies will suffer threefold.”
Ester tried again to take my arm, to elbow her way into the privacy of my and Wycliff’s conversation. “What? What did he say?”
I bit my lip for a moment. I did want those men to be brought to justice, but I didn’t have Job’s patience to suffer more losses or to see the wrong people hurt before vengeance came. “No talk of revenge. No more bloodshed. No nothing.”
My sister, I pictured her standing at a distance, wanting to hear Lord Wycliff’s whispers, my replies, but it had been so long since anyone had believed me, I wanted this moment to last. I wanted this moment for me.
“Ruth, ask him your questions so he can send us home. No, I’ll do it. Do you have the other half of the registry?”
“Mrs. Wilky, you need spectacles. The lenses, they are thick?”
The man ignoring Ester made me want to chuckle, but had he ignored my distress about revenge? I gave up and nodded. “Yes. Lord Wycliff. Ester, did you get them?”
“No.” My sister said, her tone simmering in frustration, the way she did when Papa teased. “There was too much happening.”
“Ladies, I apologize again for how I received you. I used an awful jest to make my enemies think nothing of you.”
That sounded sincere, even reasonable, given this was Adam’s relative.
“But you were seen. Until I’m assured you’re safe, I’m obligated to see to your protection, to our family’s protection.”
This time, I sighed and bit my tongue. “Ouch.”
His hands went to my face. “Are you well, ma’am?” There was more gravel and husk to his voice. “Where does it hurt? Let me make it better.”
The flirt was examining me like those physicians Mama paid to come to Fournier Street. But this touch was different. I was a treasure, not the negress specimen some were loath to be near. “My head aches.”
“Oh, we can’t have that, my dear. May I touch your neck again?”
“You’re already touching me.”
“I suppose I am, but I want to make sure it’s allowed. I’m still on shaky ground with my poor greeting.”
“Yes, you are, but do what you can. The tension won’t relent sometimes.”
“I accept the challenge.”
Gnarled and slow was his speech, but I felt him grinning at me. I didn’t care, not the way his hands eased the pain.
