“When you said you were staying forever, I didn’t scream like Thistle or pretend not to care like Anna.” She paused, searching for words.
“I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to be happy, but being happy felt dangerous. Like if I showed it, something bad would happen.”
Rhys felt his chest tighten. This child, who had learned so young to protect herself from disappointment, who had watched governess after governess come and go, who had been so afraid of abandonment that she had barely spoken above a whisper for years.
“I understand that feeling,” he said quietly.
“I’ve felt it too.”
“You have?”
“For most of my life. I was afraid that if I showed how much I wanted things, they would be taken away. So I pretended not to want anything. I thought that would protect me.”
“Did it?”
“No. It just meant I was alone with my fear instead of sharing it with people who could help.” He reached out and took her hand, the same way he had in the schoolroom, holding it gently.
“You don’t have to protect yourself from happiness anymore. I know I haven’t always been here. I know I’ve given you reasons to be afraid. But I’m telling you now, as your father, that I’m not leaving. And if you want to be happy about that, you’re allowed to show it.”
Viola was quiet for a long moment. Then, slowly, she smiled.
It was a small smile, hesitant and uncertain, the expression of a child who was learning to trust again after years of careful self-protection. But it was real, and it was directed at him, and it contained something that looked very much like joy.
“I’m happy,” she said softly.
“I’m very happy that you’re staying.”
“I’m happy too.” He pulled her gently closer, into an embrace that she allowed without resistance.
“I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life.”
She held on for a long moment, her small arms wrapped around him, her face pressed against his shoulder. When she finally pulled back, her eyes were bright but not with tears. With something else, something that closely resembled hope.
“Anna says luncheon is in fifteen minutes,” she said. “She wanted me to remind you because you sometimes forget when you’re working.”
“I do sometimes forget. Thank her for me.”
Viola nodded and turned toward the door. At the threshold, she paused and looked back.
“Papa?”
“Yes?”
“Miss Grace said‘amenable.’I think that means she’s happy too. She just doesn’t know how to show it.”
“I think you’re right.”
“I’m learning to show it. Maybe she can learn too.”
She left before he could respond, her small footsteps receding down the corridor toward the dining room where her sisters were already gathering.
Rhys sat alone in his study, surrounded by correspondence and plans and all the practical details of the life he was building. But he was not thinking about correspondence. He was thinking about his daughter’s smile, small and hesitant and full of hope.
He was thinking about Mel’s“amenable,”the word that meant so much more than it said.
He was thinking about a family that had been waiting for him all along, that had welcomed him despite his failures that had given him reason after reason to become someone worth staying for.
He had come home. Finally he was where he belonged.
