Lawrence’s face blanched. “Did the baron threaten you with the magistrate?”
“The opposite. He drove me to the Puss & Goose and bought me a hot meal so ample, I couldn’t finish it. And then he gave me this.” The sovereign flashed between her fingers. “He told me to spend it on whatever I wanted, and when I needed another, just to ask.”
“You didn’t spend it?”
Her lungs caught in remembrance. “I couldn’t. It was the first time I’d held a coin I hadn’t had to steal first. The first time I possessed money of my own, free and clear.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.” She laughed and made the coin vanish. “I slid the coin into a hidden bag here, next to my heart.” She tapped her chest. “I saw Bean again the following week outside the church. This time with a coach and a driver.”
“Did he ask you what you did with the coin?”
“I expected him to, but he did not. Later he told me that was because it was now my money, not his, and he no longer had any business in the matter.” Her throat pricked with heat. “He was always saying things like that. Treating us like people, letting us be in control of our own lives.”
“Did he give you another coin?”
She shook her head. “He made me an offer. He said he had always wanted to be a father. His house was as big as a castle, full of silence and empty rooms. If I thought being a pretend daughter might suit me, I was welcome to pick any room I wished and make it my own. There would be fresh food and hot baths and clean clothes to wear. I’d have pin money that would be mine alone, no questions asked. And if I found I didn’t like it, I was free to leave.”
“It must have sounded like heaven,” Lawrence admitted. “No wonder you said yes.”
She stared at him. “I did not say yes. I would be the first child he fostered. It all sounded too good to be true. Possibly sordid.”
“Then…how…?” he stammered.
“I did not fully trust Bean, but Iknewthe orphanage was horrid. I would have starved if I hadn’t picked pockets, and there were others who faced fates worse than that. Sometimes risk is the only path to reward. If Beanwasa good man—or at least better than the orphanage—my best friend deserved the same opportunity.” A half smile curved her lips at the memory, and her throat grew thick. “The next time I saw him, I said, ‘Only if Tommy comes with me.’”
29
Lawrence gazed at Chloe and imagined her as a little girl whose love for a friend was so strong, she’d rather starve together than live a life of comfort without her.
There was no need to imagine. Chloe was still that woman today.
All of the Wynchesters had mettle.
Lawrence did not know the story of how they’d all found each other, but he had no doubt “Not without Tommy” had led to “Not without Jacob” and then to “Not without Marjorie” and so on, the bond becoming even more unbreakable with every new link in the chain.
Their love was too big to fit in a single heart. They had no choice but to share it with each other.
“You seem happy here,” he said. “All of your siblings do.”
And why not? They had a large, beautiful house with a large, beautiful garden. Staff, several carriages, apparently a menagerie of carnivorous beasts…
“We’re very happy.” Her joy lit her face. “I wouldn’t trade this life for anything.”
Or for anyone. Like him. He could scarcely blame her. If he’d been a Wynchester instead of a duke, he’d rather live happy and free than titled and constrained.
A union with Lawrence would be the opposite of comfortable. He could notaffordto wed a bride who was anything short of fantastically wealthy—not without their home crumbling down about their children’s ears.
He needed things Chloe could not provide, and she needed a man he couldn’t be. No matter how much he might wish to. A wise man would walk away before both of their hearts broke.
Yet all Lawrence wanted was to stay. To belong to Chloe, and for her to belong to him. To have these idyllic moments be his real life, not a temporary reprieve from harsh reality. To not have his duties be so in conflict with his heart.
“Chloe says you want to paint.”
He jerked up his head to see the smallest Wynchester hovering just outside the doorway. Marjorie’s wisp of a frame was in shadow, but her green eyes were luminous. For such a slight woman, her voice was impressively loud.
“Er…” he replied.
