She stepped back and hugged herself. “Forgive me, but you don’t know my father. No doubt, he has capitalized on his false sorrow. My return might ruin that for him.”

  “You can’t truly believe that.” His brow furrowed.

  “Kenelm,” she cradled his cheek, “I love you, but you must trust me in this. If he is overwhelmingly happy to see me, then it will be because it plays to his advantage—somehow.”

  “I never knew you to be so cynical about your father.”

  “Eight years in captivity gives one time to think about many things.” Such as Father’s activities, how they came about, whom he disliked, whom he liked.

  “Maybe you are remembering events incorrectly. You should at least allow him time to prove himself as false.”

  “I will give him plenty of rope for which to hang himself, I promise.”

  His gasp made her feel slightly guilty, but she pushed the feeling aside. She wrapped her arm in his and they strolled across the deck. Snores eliminated through the boards from the sleeping crew below. The first watch was still topside, their eyes droopy as they awaited their time of rest.

  “Do you think we might head to Odell? After a brief, very brief, stay with my father? The flowers are beautiful at this time of year.” And the absence of Father makes them all the sweeter.

  “What about your formal wedding?”

  “We can marry at Odell. In the gardens. I loved visiting there with…” She stopped. Why had she brought him up?

 

 

  Felicia Rogers, The Silver Moon (Kenelm Chronicles 02)

 

 

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