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He shook his head, then nodded.
“Swallow please.”
He took his time chewing and took a gulp of my tea, then finally said, “You feel strong when I touch you.”
My brows shot up. “How so?”
He shrugged. “You just feel strong. Like the sun.”
“The sun?”
He nodded.
I sighed. Getting clear information out of nine-year-old boys was no easy feat.
“Do you mean hot like the sun or powerful like the sun?”
“Powerful.” He had found a crock of butter and now slathered it on his bread.
“So I feel hot and powerful?”
He nodded.
“Has Jack ever said anything about how I feel? Or Thomas?”
“No.” He continued eating and I was about to sigh in relief when he said, “But Henry says you zing him.”
Oh dear.
“Are you two the only ones who say that?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Nobody else has said anything to me.”
Thank you, Robin. You have been very helpful.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Can you do something for me?”
He nodded, his mouth full.
“Can you not tell anyone about this? Not only this conversation, but about how hot I feel when you touch me? Can you keep it a secret from your friends and our brothers and sisters?”
He looked sheepish. “I already told Henry.”
“That is all right. Henry thinks I feel odd, too.” I tweaked his nose and smiled to show him I was only playing. “Can you not tell anyone else? For me?”
“Yes, Lizzy. I won’t tell anyone.”
I rumpled his hair and sent him on his way, wondering what all of this meant. Were the twins merely sensitive? And what were they sensing exactly? Did Henry sense feelings and Robin energy? What could they do with such a gift? What did it mean? Did the others in my family have gifts they did not even realize? Was mine simply the most obvious?
“Are you ready to go, Lizzy?”
I looked over and saw my mother had just entered the dining room. “Yes, I am. Walk me out?”
As we walked to the drive where Joseph was waiting with my horse, I told her what Robin had said.
“They have always been sensitive boys. And you did spend a great deal of time with them when they were babies.”
