each second an eternity of torture until the door had opened and out he’d walked. As she looked into his eyes, her legs shook so bad she thought she’d collapse, but instead of the usual passion she found only sorrow that stabbed her to the core. “I’ll miss you all my life.”
She beat her fist against the stone, but it remained unyielding and impervious to her grief. Life. What life without him? Her entire life had been spent drifting from one social gathering to the next at the behest of her parents, talking to the same mindless people here, funding an approved charity there. Not until Paris had she found meaning in her well-laid path. And then Barrett had crashed in and veered her onto a completely different one. She owed him everything for that.
Her nails curled into the stone. But he didn’t want what she offered. He’d taken her on as a job. Nothing more.
Yet there was no mistaking the longing in his eyes that beat in time with her own. There was no denying the love.
The scraping of wheels rolling across brick reached her ears. Kat pushed up from the ground to sit on the bench. She swiped her pale-yellow handkerchief across her eyes and folded her hands in her lap. Over the brooch.
“It’s no good, daughter.”
Kat straightened her shoulders and gazed across the low hedge maze. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I’ve lived amongst women my whole life. I know when one of you has been crying.”
Kat shifted on the bench as her father’s pushchair rolled to a stop next to her. Polio had wasted his lower half, but his arms and shoulders were still solid from his years as a soldier. His direct stare bore into her, leaving little room to argue. “I don’t know what’s come over me. Never been much of a crier.”
“There’s a first for all of us.” Leaning down, he pulled his thinning legs from the footrests. “Get me out of this contraption.”
Standing, Kat moved around to place his arm around her shoulders and helped lift him onto the bench. She carefully arranged his feet on the ground before taking her seat next to him. Overhead, the hazy clouds burned away to reveal the glorious sun in its soft blue setting. The late-morning air chirped with birds flitting from one tree to the next. A far cry from her mood.
Father shifted, rubbing a hand over his slim thigh. Kat noted the goose bumps at his wrist. “Shall I fetch you a blanket?”
He scowled. “Stop fussing. Too much like your mother. That woman will fuss all of us into an early grave.”
“Not Ellie. She loves all the attention bustling around her.”
Father snorted. “And your mama is doing enough of that. Won’t let her out of her sight.”
“Can you blame her?”
“I might have her chained to the bed. See she stays home and out of trouble for a while.”
“I think you can rest easier these days. Ellie is different. Paris . . . matured her. All the things she went through, she’s come out better for it.”
“Time will tell.” Father harrumphed. “For now, you’re both home.”
Kat threaded her sodden hankie through her fingers, the dampness cold on her skin. “Yes.”
“No small credit to you.”
Her head snapped up to meet his eyes. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but was it not you who hired someone behind my back because you thought I was incompetent to complete the task on my own?”
“I would have paid an entire battalion to retrieve you both if that’s what it took.” He slapped a hand against his leg. “Blast these for crippling me so I couldn’t go myself.”
Kat stared across the top of the maze at the evergreen leaves bright despite the chill sweeping the air. She’d played in there too many times to count as a child. Father chasing her and Ellie about as they shrieked with laughter. The carefree days of youth. No expectations, no calls of duty, no class restrictions or political gains. Back when she was so trusting of the world and everyone in it.
“You should not have set up deals without my knowledge, Father. Not again.”
“I will not apologize for sending someone to see my own flesh and blood safely back to where they belong. Incompetent? No, Kathleen. Never that. You are my daughter after all.”
“Then you should know to trust me more. In all aspects.”
“You’re so young. You haven’t seen much of the world. One day, when you have children of your own, you’ll