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“Do you no longer trust me?” He had a way of cajoling. Of moving a bit too close. She supposed he had to use several techniques to obtain the information he needed for the Crown, from those unwilling and uncooperative. She just didn’t want to be interrogated. Or manipulated.
“I don’t know you anymore, Roman. I’m sure time has changed us both.”
“And I’m afraid time has changed neither of us.”
“What do you mean?” She faced him, so in his element amongst the military set where he spent much of his time. He bore himself with such confidence. It was no wonder he could influence those around him.
“Walk with me, Shelene. My carriage is around the corner.”
“But—”
“I will take you with me to visit the proper authority,” he assured, “but we need to talk, and the Brest docks are not the place to do so.”
Roman took her hand and placed it on his jacket sleeve, his arm solid beneath. He walked slowly, allowing Shelene’s chaperones to fall in behind them.
“Did I misunderstand? I thought you would be in London for several weeks yet,” Roman asked. Just like him to start at the beginning.
“I changed my mind.”
“Which you are allowed to do, but would it not have been better to wait?”
“Until you came to the rescue?” she asked.
“Do you need rescuing?”
“Of course not,” she said in a huff. “I need my father. It’s a simple as that.”
“Nothing between us has ever been simple.”
“You think this is about us? You are wrong. When a woman is told her only surviving parent is likely gone, swallowed by the sea, that woman is compelled to know the truth. And, by God’s grace, I will.”
They rounded the corner, putting the docks and the noise behind them. At his carriage, Roman stopped and braced his hand against the door latch. He gazed at her, a half-smile on his face. “Shelene, I know this isn’t the time or the place, but we need to resolve this matter between us. Once and for all. But I beg you, let me find out what happened first. Such a distraction allows neither of us to think clearly.”
The weather took that moment to break overhead, and a few raindrops descended, wetting their hats and shoulders. Roman opened the carriage door, hoisted her by the waist and stuffed her inside before helping Martina. He waved the boy inside too.
The rain came down, drenching everything, and causing a round of chatter and welcome laughter inside the carriage. The driver cracked his whip, and the horses were off.
Roman had taken the only remaining seat beside her, and cupped her hand in his, as if the years between them hadn’t past with such pain and loneliness. As if they were meant to be together.
She stared out the window. The rain might as well have been the tears she had not shed, pouring from a broken heart and suffering spirit.
He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it, offering her a smile and a glimpse of what she had given up. Martina kept her gaze lowered and Joaquin stared out the carriage window on the opposite side, mouth open, staring at the collection of drenched humanity still scurrying for cover along the docks.
Shelene tried not to think about the press of Roman’s lips and the strong shoulder she bumped against with each turn of the carriage wheel.
Roman was wrong. She had changed. She wanted him to know how being truly alone felt. He still had a large family, including his mother and brothers.
She wanted him to know that she didn’t want to be alone any longer.
