Page 119 of Lord Hartwell’s Refuge

Her features smoothed into innocence. “Did they have none before you arrived?”

“Not enough.”

That made her laugh again.

Roman found himself telling her about Salmond, the man with the spectacles, the fossil. He attempted to explain what he had been told about the layers of earth in which such things were found, discovered halfway through he had misunderstood some portion of it, corrected himself, and tried again.

Tamsin listened—and not politely. That was the triumph of his evening. He knew what her polite attention looked like; he had seen her employ it upon any number of people who deserved far less of her patience, including him of late. This was something else.

Her questions kept changing the direction of his thoughts. “How do they know how old it is?”

Roman explained what he could, which seemed little now he spoke aloud.

His wife frowned. “But if no one knows precisely what the creature was, how do they know those bones belong together?”

He had to think about that. “I am not certain.”

“Did you ask?”

“Yes. But the answers will no more satisfy you than they did me.”

“You should have written them down. Perhaps we could discuss them.”

“I shall, next time.” The answer came before Roman considered it. Tamsin looked at him, and he realized what he had said. He was going back. The prospect did not feel like an obligation, either. It felt…exciting. “But I hope you will be with me. Next time.”

Tamsin smiled without remarking on it, though she squeezed his hand, and Roman continued to tell her everything he had seen and heard. At some point she abandoned proper posture entirely and tucked both feet beneath her. Roman moved closer on the sofa, their shoulders touching. Someone came in to tend the fire; Roman stopped speaking long enough for the servant to finish, resuming before the door had fully closed.

He was halfway through an account of Salmond’s proposed collection of petrified wood when he became aware that he had been speaking for a very long time. Roman stopped, then sighed. “Forgive me.”

His wife wrinkled her nose. “Whatever for?”

“I have been talking rather a great deal.”

“Yes.” She smiled as he stared at her. “I like it.”

Roman looked away, something unfamiliar catching low in his chest. The fire had caught again; flames moved quietly around the fresh coal. “I nearly did not go this evening.”

“Why?” There. One of her simple questions.

Roman could have said he had been tired, or blamed the weather, Salmond’s eccentricities, the inconvenience of the hour but as Tamsin tilted her head to rest it against his shoulder, he relaxed. His wife wanted to know him. And he wanted to be known. “I thought it would be another room full of men wanting to improve something.”

She slowly shook her head, her curls brushing his jaw. “You’ve had enough of improving things, I suppose?”

“No.” Roman considered his answer. “Yes.” And still Tamsin said nothing. He sighed and rested his head against hers. “I must say again that I do not know.”

“That seems to be happening to you rather often lately.”

There was no mockery in her words. Roman exhaled through his nose. “Yes. I suppose it has.” The silence that followed was not like the silences of the last week. He did not feel compelled to escape it. After a moment, he said, “It was different. This gathering, I mean. I felt different while I was there.”

“How did it feel?” Her voice was soft, their joined hands resting in her lap.

“No one needed anything from me.” He considered those words carefully, turning his head just enough to brush his lips against her forehead. “I do not mean they did not want me there. Salmond did, who knows why.”

“Roman.” She sat back enough to look up at him with an expression he had seen before. It was somehow both accusatory and affectionate.

He could not help but give in with a sigh. “They wanted my interest, perhaps. My opinion, when I had one. But nothing depended upon my being able to persuade anyone. There was nothing I could ruin by failing to make the right argument.” He squeezed her hand. “I had forgotten what it was like to care about something that did not require me to do anything immediate about it.”

For a moment, Tamsin did not answer. Finally, “That sounds rather nice.” Her head returned to his shoulder.