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A man who, at this point, was the last remnant of family Xavier had.
I turned fully toward him so that I was straddling his waist. His hands rested comfortably on my bare thighs, though without any lascivious intent as his hands stroked my skin. The flame was gone. Now it was just bright blue sadness. The color of new tears.
“Come here,” I told him, wrapping my arms around Xavier’s neck and guiding his head to my shoulder this time. To my surprise, he allowed me to comfort him. He buried his nose in my neck and inhaled deeply.
“God, you smell good,” he said. “Like fresh milk. And that soap you bought at the Portobello Market last week. What was it?”
“Sweet milk,” I admitted. “Good nose.”
His lips found my shoulder. “You smell a fuck lot better than me.”
I chuckled while I massaged the back of his neck. “You do have the air of a distillery about you.”
He inhaled and exhaled several more times until his shoulders started to relax. “I don’t like who I am in Kendal. And the people there don’t like me either, Ces. I’m an intruder. I always have been.”
“That might have been true when you were younger,” I said, despite not really knowing who “these people” were. “But you’re the duke. They have to respect that, don’t they?”
Another grunt, which told me he was nearly done talking. That and the heaviness of his palms on my legs indicated my man was relaxing at least, and with that, perilously close to sleep. Well, it was beyond late. At this rate, we’d have maybe three hours of sleep before Sofia crawled into bed with us, intent on telling us all about her dreams.
“I have to go up there,” Xavier mumbled into my skin. “Tomorrow.”
My heart sank as I threaded my fingers through his soft, shiny hair. “Well, then. I suppose that’s how it has to be. Don’t worry. We’ll manage without you.”
I waited for him to correct me. To tell me that obviously he meant all of us together. That he wouldn’t let this event stop us from doing what we had come here to do—keep our tenuous little family together.
But Xavier didn’t answer. He was already asleep.
* * *
“I still don’t understandwhy you have to leave this early.”
The sky was barely starting to change colors when I sat at the enormous kitchen counter the next morning, watching Xavier go through a smart, efficient routine. We had probably gotten all of two hours of sleep before he woke me just before four to make up “properly,” he said. I wasn’t about to argue. But after that, there was really no point in going back to sleep, knowing that a certain black-haired sprite would be up anyway within minutes.
Now the sky was just starting to glimmer with a suggestion of dawn while I stirred a cup of coffee and Xavier prepared the strangest breakfast I’d ever seen.
“You don’t understand,” he said as he scooped a double serving of rice out of the cooker on the counter and into a large cereal bowl. “The stroke was quite severe. I have to get up there and see to things today.”
I knew it was selfish to resent a man who had just had a stroke, but I couldn’t help it. We’d been here a month, but Xavier had been working like crazy. Sofia was still desperate to spend time with her dad. And so was I.
“You won’t enjoy it in Kendal,” Xavier said before I could even suggest it.
He plucked an egg from the basket stored in a sleek box next to the fridge. With the brisk, practiced movements of a professional, he cracked it with one hand into the rice, added some soy sauce, and started mixing it all together vigorously with a pair of chopsticks. I loved watching him cook. It was a bit like watching an artist paint.
“Stay in London,” he continued. “See the sights. Take Sof to Big Ben and London Bridge and another palace and enjoy yourselves. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
By the time he was finished stirring, the egg, rice, and soy concoction had taken on a slightly frothy texture. He sprinkled a mixture of sesame, salt, and seaweed crumbles called furikake on top. It still looked like something that had been washed up from the sea, but the garnish was a bit more appetizing.
I shrank around my latte, which had been thoughtfully prepared from a surgical-looking contraption at the end of the counter. Xavier had made do with a double espresso, already consumed. I had a few moments to dredge up the guts to say what I really wanted. I didn’t want to put any more pressure on him, given the circumstances, but I also knew that if I didn’t say what I really wanted, I’d regret it.
“Sofia and I have already seen those things a million times at this point,” I pointed out. “If your driver can come with us, we can explore Cumbria while you work, can’t we? Isn’t it a major tourist area too?”
“It’s not as great as everyone says. Just a lot of water and hills, really.”
I frowned. I had seen enough pictures of the famous Lake District to know that was a total lie. “Do you—you really want us to stay away, don’t you?”
The idea made my stomach drop. There was a part of me that thought back to Lea’s question: what was he waiting for? His family relations were obviously a much more important part of his life than he had led me to believe, but even after a month, there had been no mention of meeting any of them. Nothing about visiting any of his family’s properties or engaging with them in any way.
Was it them he wanted to keep from us? Or I wondered as I picked at a thread from the faded black robe I’d brought from home, the other way around?
