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Marcus couldn’t help but laugh. Sunrise over the Taj Mahal was one of his aunt’s most exquisite memories, and she used the expression when she meant he was looking extremely pleased with himself.
“I am well, too, Minnie, thank you for asking,” he teased.
“Why should I ask? You are always well…disgustingly so.”
He bent to kiss her cheek. “Where is Portia?”
“I’ve left Lady Ellerslie in a nice warm bath. She fell into the sea, she says. An accident.” Minnie gave him a searching look. “I told her I was certain you were to blame in some way. You always are. But she very loyally refused to give you up.”
“It was an accident…sort of.”
“Hmm.”
“She was having a wonderful time. I swear I made her happier than she’s been for years, Minnie! Until it happened.”
“But does she make you happy, dear boy?” She gave him one of her intense looks.
“Yes,” he said, then frowned.
“What is it?” She sank down into an enormous carved chair. The armrests were carved to represent lions’ heads and painted in brilliant colors, and there was a canopy over the top to protect her from the hot Indian sun—or it would have if the throne were still in India. It had been a gift from one of the princes she met in her travels.
“Come, nephew,” she said now. “Tell me all.”
Why not? he asked himself. She was discreet. He had never been able to shock his aunt, and he didn’t expect to do so now. And it might help him sort out his feelings to speak them aloud.
As Marcus told her his story, Minnie listened in silence, her turban slipping to one side as she rested her head on her hand. “
So you see,” he ended, “this connection between us was never meant to last longer than one meeting. Those were the rules…But I don’t seem able to let her go.”
“You can’t change the rules?”
“I’ve already stretched them quite a bit.”
Minnie smiled fondly. “I’m sure you have.”
“She refuses to see this as other than temporary, no matter how I try and persuade her. She’s stubborn like that.”
“Or afraid,” Minnie said softly. “She has a lot more to lose than you, nephew. Is she worth fighting for?”
He met her eyes, and she read the truth in them.
“Ah, then you must find a way to fight for her!”
All very well, Marcus thought, but what exactly was he fighting for? Portia as his mistress? Portia as his sometimes lover? Portia as his wife?
He shied away from that last one. Next thing he knew he’d be planning cozy domestic evenings, like Sebastian and Francesca, and dreaming of a nursery!
He shuddered, and quickly changed the subject. “I will have to beg your hospitality for tonight, Minnie. We have missed the train back to London. And besides, Portia can’t travel in her present state.”
“Of course not, and you need not ask, Marcus, you are always welcome here. I will go and ask Cook to water down the curry so it will go around.”
Marcus grinned. “You are a wonderful woman, Minnie, I hope you know how much I appreciate you.”
She made a soulful face. “You are the son I never had, dear boy.”
He laughed, but teasing aside, he knew she meant what she said. Minnie was more like a mother to him than his own mother had ever been, mainly because he had hardly known her. Some would say his upbringing had been unorthodox, but Marcus was grateful for it. God forbid he should have turned out like the average Victorian gentleman, priggish and proper.
Thanks to Minnie, he saw the world as a much more flexible affair.
