Hiro glanced down at sleeping May. “She is perfect.”
“She is. All my grandchildren are, no matter their appearances or their talents.” The older man nodded firmly. “Perfect. Now, come with me.”
Without waiting to see if Hiro would follow him—because of course he would—Otuo-santurned and hobbled toward the small benches set beneath the bare apple tree. In the spring and summer months, this was one ofOkaasama’s favorite spots, but now the garden was silent and the stars shone bright in the winter sky.
The old man settled himself on the stone, and Hiro, knowing what was expected of him, cuddled the baby closer—her wee body was warm enough, he knew—and sank down opposite him.
“Now, my son.”Otuo-san’s gnarled hands spread across his knees. “Why have you not given me another perfect grandchild with that Englishwoman of yours?”
Hiro reared back in surprise. Surprise that his father knew of Mandy. Surprise that he would speak of her.
Finally he managed, “She is a duke’s daughter,Otuo-san. Too far above me.”
“Ah,” the other man hummed. “She thinks she is better than you? She does not want to give you a child.”
A child. A child with his hair and Mandy’s eyes and his strength and her bravery. Hiro closed his eyes on a pang of longing so intense he couldtasteit.
“Why would you stay with such a woman, my son?”Otuo-sanpushed. “A woman who does not look at you and see you for the worthy man you are?”
“She does,” Hiro whispered. And when his father remained silent, he opened his eyes to face the truth. “Mandydoesthink I am worthy. She wants…”To marry me. To spend forever with me.“A future.”
Otuo-sancocked his head as he studied Hiro, who couldn’t meet his gaze. It was easier to switch his attention to baby May, to fuss over the sleeping infant, to tug at her bonnet.
Finally, the older man clucked his tongue sadly. “It isyouthen?”
Hiro didn’t respond, didn’t look up.
“Youare the one who is afraid you are not good enough?”Otuo-sanasked sadly. “But youare. You, my Hiroshi, are a good man.” When Hiro finally met his father’s gaze, the older man nodded. “The best man.”
The best man. She’d called him the same, that night in the hotel in Edinburgh.
Hiro swallowed. “Not in her world,Otuo-san,” he whispered. “Her brother is a duke. He is wealthy and powerful. His decisions change the world.”
“They changehisworld?”
Thinking of the laws Alistair had helped to pass, Hiro shook his head. “They changeourworld. But his world is different than my world,Otuo-san. He lives in a big house and has many servants and his family…they deserve the best.”
You are thebestman.
But his father didn’t repeat it. Instead, he nodded slowly, as if considering Hiro’s words. “And your Mandy? She belongs in that world?”
Hiro frowned. “Yes, of course. She is…she is a lady.”
“Does shewantto belong in that world?”
Ah.
Hiro dropped his gaze to his niece. How many times had Mandy tried to explain how little she wanted to belong in her brother’s world? How many times had he spoken over her, unwilling to be the reason she forsook the privileges of her birth?
But the truth was the truth. “No,” he whispered. “She doesn’t want to belong there.”
His father hummed. “Does she want to belong to this world?”
The small laugh wrenched from Hiro’s lips before he could stop himself, and the baby stirred against his shoulder. He dropped his voice to a whisper when he explained to his father, “No. To visit? Yes, perhaps.” How many times had she spoken of visiting York, and his family? “But she is happier…”
When it is just the two of us.
Slowly, Hiro straightened on the garden bench, the cold from the stone seeping through his overcoat and chilling more than just his arse.
