he said, as he led her from the room.
“Not everyone appreciates my…directness.”
“You have no idea how refreshing it is.”
Now she laughed. “Let’s hope you still feel that way…later.”
He caught the hesitation, and knew that, despite leaping along with him tonight, she was still unconvinced on how they could do anything beyond share this night together, or maybe the next ice-bound few…. Well, he wasn’t exactly sure himself. But no way was he walking away from this, from her. So, he’d just have to do whatever it took to make sure she didn’t want to walk away, either.
He led her down the dark hallway, and back upstairs, only he ducked down the right wing this time, not toward the left where the parlor and the dogs were. He felt her hand shudder a little in his. “I know, it’s getting chilly up here. But I know where—” He broke off as he stopped in front of a set of double doors. “This was my aunt’s favorite guest room, and I was lucky that I was her favorite great-nephew, so it was always mine when I stayed here.” He opened the doors, and Emma flashed the beam of light around the interior, stopping first on the beautiful, ornately carved fireplace, then a bit longer on the equally beautifully hand-carved sleigh bed.
“I can see why you both loved it,” Emma said, as he pulled her inside and closed the door to the hall.
There was wood stacked by the fireplace, which, given Lionel’s attentiveness to detail, he’d expected to find. “It will only take me a few minutes to get the fire going.”
She let go of his hand, and helped illuminate the area in front of the hearth so he could get things set up. “How long has it been since you’ve been here? You said things sort of broke down between you and your family…” She trailed off, then said, “I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about that now. I was just—this is a lovely room and the way you spoke about your great-aunt…it sounded like you loved her very much.”
“I did. She was the best. And if she were still around, I think she’d have been my ally in finding out the truth. She was the only one who could stand up to Lionel without pissing him off. If anyone was going to make him understand why it was so important to me to know, it would have been her.”
He stacked the wood, stuffed in the tinder and kindling, then sparked one of the long fireplace matches he’d drawn from their special brass container beside the mantel.
“How long has it been? I mean, since she’s been gone?”
“I was seventeen. And just starting to make noise about things.”
“Why did you even suspect?”
“I know it sounds hokey, but I never felt like I fit in. I didn’t have the same killer instinct my family did, or the same mind-set about conquering all for the sake of the victory. Amassing wealth—or more of it, I should say—wasn’t how I wanted to judge my success in the world. And no one seemed to get that in this family.”
“Not even your parents?”
“My father was a true Hamilton, through and through, and my mother lived to serve my father…and her own societal needs. I know that sounds rather harsh, but…we knew who we were, and who we weren’t. We got along fine, mostly because we just pretended not to notice our differences. They just wanted me to be a fine, upstanding young Hamilton, and I wanted to keep the peace.”
“You said ‘was.’ Are they—”
“Gone? Yes, right after I graduated from college. Drunk driver.”
“I’m so sorry—”
“That’s when I decided to forge my own path. I graduated, decided to stay in North Carolina—”
“And start your own empire.”
He laughed. “Hardly. My degree is in environmental geology. I started a company that works with builders to make sure the land they build on is safe. I also work with already established communities, older communities, to pin down problem areas and help them work with the local authorities to clean things up.”
“That’s—”
“Not very Hamilton-esque. I know.” He shrugged. “I really enjoy it. I have good people working for me. And, unless being a Hamilton will open doors to helping the people I’m trying to help, I don’t have to pretend to be something I’m not. Or never felt like, anyway.”
“So…because you felt different, you assumed your family tree was—”
“A bit twisted? Well, not specifically. But you know how some kids feel like