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“Forgive me, I did not mean to laugh. I should remember all estates are different.”
“You are not exactly wrong. My father’s lessons were always quite cold,” I said as I helped Emeline out before extending my hand to Aphrodite.
I truly disliked when she looked at me like that. It felt as though she had found that door and were about to yank it open.
“You never speak about your father. What—”
“Emeline!” We both jumped slightly at the sight of Mrs. Watson rushing down the stairs to where Emeline stood before us. She dropped to her knees, dusting off the child’s dress. “Why are you covered in so much dirt?”
“Oh, Mrs. Watson, it’s from the walk.” Aphrodite giggled, lifting the hem on her own dress, which was covered in dirt as well. “Nothing a good wash cannot cure. Other than that, we are all fine.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” she replied, standing straight up. “I shall take her in to have her lunch.”
Emeline was already holding her hand.
“Thank you, Mrs. Watson.” Aphrodite waved to Emeline, who waved back before following her nanny inside. When she was beyond hearing, Aphrodite said, “Emeline is becoming warmer with me. I hope she will come to depend on me more than she does Mrs. Watson one day. Like her own mama. I always had a nanny, but my mama was very involved with us.”
“Yes, I recall,” I replied, giving her my arm as we walked up the stairs. “All in due time. Emeline smiled more today than I have ever seen. Especially after…”
“After?”
“After her mother died,” I answered.
“Oh, how was she then?”
“She was…I was…” I did not know because I sought not to think of that as well. I hung my head. “It was a hard time for her, I am sure.”
“Did you speak to her?”
“No, Mrs. Watson—”
“Evander, please tell me you spoke to her after she lost her mother.”
“Of course, I did,” I said quickly. “I told her what happened, and she said okay. And that was all.”
“That she did not cry was not odd to you?”
“She is a quiet child, as you have seen. Not everyone weeps at the loss of a parent. I did not,” I muttered, and there it was, another slip, and she pounced upon it.
“What did you do then?”
“I do not remember.” I kissed her forehead. “I have work to do. I shall see you later.”
I did not wait, as I feared something more would slip. I had done my best not to speak of the past. There was no point since there was no changing any of it. Instead, I sought my future, seeking to create my refuge there. And I was closer now to that life than I ever thought I would be. I did not wish to mar it. However, I’d found myself thinking more about the past over the last few days. And now she had me thinking of Emeline. I truly could not recall her reaction after her mother passed, and I had not focused much on her at the time. Instead, I had left her to Mrs. Watson’s care.
I paused as I recalled my father and how he had acted when my mother passed. How he’d barely said a word, either.
Dammit all.
I rubbed the side of my head, sighing.
I am not my father. I am not my father. I repeated the mantra in my mind as I walked near Emeline’s room.
“I saw sheep, and then the other girls showed me their dolls. They said their mama made them! The dolls were really dirty, but they said it was because they were hugged so much.”
That little voice rambling off was something I had never heard before. In fact, I had to look in and check that it did not belong to some other child instead of Emeline. But sure enough, there she was, running circles as Mrs. Watson looked for a new dress.
“Can I get a doll?” Emeline asked. “I want one that looks like me, too, with curly hair and a pretty dress. Oh, and a hat!”
