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She touched her hand to my stomach, and I looked down at her. She was peering up at me with a gentle smile playing on her lips. There was a little sparkle in her eye that sent a jolt of warmth through me, and I couldn’t help but smile back at her.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” I reached over and pushed some hair from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. Our gazes held for just a second too long before I broke the eye contact and looked back at the water.
Ellie slowly turned her head to follow my gaze. I focused on the ducklings. They were just old enough now to venture off a little further without their mum, but she was quick to quack them back over if she felt one was going a little too far.
It was quite funny watching them. This gorgeous, slick black duck who shone various shades of green and purple when the sun hit her right, and this bunch of tiny fluffballs that were more grey than anything.
“This is my mum’s bench, you know.”
Ellie stilled. “It is?”
Why had I said that?“Yes. We put it here on what would have been her fiftieth birthday.”
She shifted her body away from me and turned to look at the back of the bench and the plaque that was there. “In Loving Memory of Isabel Darlington,” she read out softly. “The Duchess of Windermere.” She met my eyes. “Is that your last name? Darlington?”
“Technically, it’s Windermere. My family has always used the ducal title as the surname where the situation warranted it, but I prefer to use Darlington for personal situations.”
“Is that your actual family name? Not related to the title?”
“No. It’s my mother’s family name.”
She tilted her head to the side, and I could almost see her brain whirring with indecision. She wanted to ask me why I preferred it. I braced myself for the question, but it didn’t come.
“Oh.” Ellie settled back against me, looking out at the water. “Okay.”
I peered down at the top of her head, but that was it. That was the end of it.
No questions.
Nothing about how she died.
Why I preferred her name.
Why I hadn’t mentioned my father.
She just… didn’t ask.
She’d wanted to. I’d seen it in her eyes. She couldn’t hide her emotions for the life of her, and her curiosity had burned a hole in my gaze for a moment.
But she hadn’t asked.
“Oh, my God. How did you get here?”
I jerked my attention in the direction of where she was looking, but I was already grinning, because I knew the ‘meow’ that responded. “Winston. Did she leave the door open again?”
“I did not!” Ellie swatted me and watched the mischievous cat as he pounced up onto the bench next to her and curled up into a ball. “Arsehole,” she muttered.
I chuckled.
“Do you have anywhere to be?” she asked in a gentle voice after a few moments.
“No. Do you?”
“No. Can we just sit here for a while?”
I rubbed my hand along her arm. “Yes. We can.”
