A Most Dangerous Profession(37)
His smile disappeared. “You will not be accompanying me tomorrow.”
“Of course I will. Why else do you think I traveled this distance?”
“Moira, no. You’re still injured—”
“I rode for hours and suffered no ill effects.”
“I had to carry you from your mount.”
Her cheeks pinkened. “My legs were stiff, that’s all. If I’d traveled by coach with you as should have happened, I wouldn’t be exhausted right now. A good night’s sleep, and I’ll be as strong as ever.”
“I’m not taking you with me, and that’s that.”
Her hands fisted on her knees, her green eyes sparkling. “Robert, have you forgotten that my daughter is in the hands of a madman?”
“That’s my daughter, too,” he said sharply.
“You don’t even know her. Don’t try to tell me that you care about her, for I won’t believe it.”
Robert muttered a curse. “That does not alleviate my responsibility, which I take very seriously. From the moment I became aware that Rowena was my child, she became my concern, like it or not.”
“That’s so generous of you.” Moira’s voice was laced with sarcasm.
“It’s all I have,” he said quietly. “I’m being honest, Moira. You can’t ask for more.” He could see her struggling to understand.
“You admit you have no feelings for her, yet you still wish to help gain her release. I don’t understand how you can feel one, but not the other.”
“She’s my family,” he said simply.
“So?”
He saw the puzzlement in Moira’s eyes. How could she not understand that—Ah. Once again, I realize how little I know her. “Do you have a family?”
Her expression closed, and she shrugged carelessly. “Doesn’t everyone?”
“You didn’t answer my question. We’ve never really discussed our pasts.”
She leaned back in her chair, looking wilted and too tired to argue. Her exhaustion could work in his favor. “Tell me about your family, Moira.”
“You first,” she said, her expression showing her reluctance.
If that was what it took, then he’d do it. “I was raised in an old vicarage called Wythburn. Father is retired, so now he and Mother spend their time traveling and writing very, very long letters full of advice.”
Moira’s lips twitched. “They sound lovely.”
“They are. In addition to them, I have three sisters and two brothers. All of my sisters are married, and I like their husbands well enough. One of my brothers recently married, which leaves only Michael unwed. I don’t think he’ll ever marry; he’s too enamored of his wandering lifestyle.”
She eyed him thoughtfully. “I can’t imagine you as the son of a vicar.”
“Father instilled in us all a love of reading and letters, which has kept us connected though we live far apart.”
“You always seemed close to your siblings.”
Is that envy I hear? Interesting. “We lived in the country, and there weren’t many other children around, so we spent a lot of time in each other’s company.”
“Were you bored?”
“Not at all. We made up plays, became champion cricket players, had races, and swam in the lake. We were very close, especially since we had to band together to protect ourselves from Father.”
Her eyes widened. “Was he mean?”
“No. Worse. He is an expert at making one feel guilty.”
Her brow creased. “I don’t understand. Is that bad?”
“Oh, yes, there is nothing worse. Father forced us to discuss literature at the dinner table, and if we hadn’t read his latest ‘suggested’ reading—” Robert shuddered.
Moira chuckled. “It couldn’t be as bad as all that.”
“Oh, it was. He’s a scholar, so our dinners were rife with discussions of the Iliad and Odyssey rather than hunting and horses, which would have been my preference.”
“You couldn’t change the topic?”
“And disappoint Father? No one could look as sad as he could. And he was such a good person that you felt horrid for causing even one sad frown.”
Her eyes twinkled. “I would wager ten quid that you still managed to hold your own.”
He smiled. “You would win that wager. Much to the disgust of my siblings, I worked hard to match my father’s scholarship. I curried his favor more than any of them.”