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Authors: Manda Collins
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to imagine that they were here together because they liked one another. Not because he thought her father had murdered his brother.
That thought stifling any illusions she might have about their relationship, she spoke first. “To what does the daughter of the man responsible for your brother’s disappearance owe this great honor?”
Cecily turned to gauge his reaction and was pleased to see Winterson wince. Let him hear his own words thrown back at him and know how foolish they sound, she thought.
Even so, he continued, his voice as calm as she was agitated. “I have heard that you are frequently at loggerheads with your father over your scholarly pursuits. Surely it comes as no surprise to you that others might share your ill opinion of him.”
Cecily removed her arm from his, and turned to face him, her temper lending her a measure of coolness she did not feel.
“I do not deny that my relationship with my father has often been a difficult one, Your Grace,” she said. “But that relationship is my business. Not yours. If you have brought me here to continue your treatise on the manner in which my father has wronged you, then you will simply have to find a more suitable audience.
“On the other hand,” she continued, turning away, grateful not to be facing him so that she might finish her speech without looking him in the eyes. “You wish to know whether I know anything about your brother’s disappearance, and I will tell you plainly that I do not. As you have stated, my relationship with my father is not always an easy one. I have certainly never been his confidante on matters relating to his expeditions, given the fact that he has refused to take me with him, but his recent illness has meant that we are unable to speak of even innocuous topics. William’s disappearance has been as much a mystery to me as I suppose it is for you.”
At the mention of his brother, she saw him tense up. At her denial of having any more information, however, he sighed in frustration. A pang of sympathy ran through her as she thought of how difficult it must be not to know what had happened to his brother. At least she and Violet had Papa here in their care. Having him go missing would have been unimaginable.
Winterson stepped back and handed her down to sit on the bench, then used his walking stick to lower himself to the one opposite.
“I thank you for your candidness, Miss Hurston,” he said, his blue eyes meeting hers. She noticed for the first time a tiny network of lines in the skin around them, and more bracketing his mouth. Both, she suspected, remembering his attempts to charm her this morning, were from laughing. Though she had doubts that he’d spent much time in that activity since his brother’s disappearance.
“I don’t suppose you have access to any of your father’s papers from that trip, either?”
“I’m afraid not,” she said, hating to dash his hopes again. “Those are what I was looking for this morning at the Egyptian Club.”
“Ah,” he said, infusing the word with more emotion than should be possible.
“I didn’t arrive in time to hear your reason for trying to get in.” He grinned. “I was, however, able to see you kick the door in frustration.”
Cecily felt her cheeks redden. “Not one of my finer moments,” she said, looking at her hands. Then, her sense of humor intervening, she continued, “In my defense it was a most impertinent door.”
Their eyes met and held for a moment. Cecily felt the breath rush from her under the intensity of his blue gaze.
“I suspected as much,” he said gravely, one dark brow curving upward. “It had that look about it.”
Cecily couldn’t help herself, giving in to a surprised laugh that punctured the veil of seriousness that had held them. Winterson laughed too, and for a moment, Lord Hurston’s illness and Will’s disappearance were forgotten in that flash of shared mirth.
Their laughter spent, they sat together smiling until
That thought stifling any illusions she might have about their relationship, she spoke first. “To what does the daughter of the man responsible for your brother’s disappearance owe this great honor?”
Cecily turned to gauge his reaction and was pleased to see Winterson wince. Let him hear his own words thrown back at him and know how foolish they sound, she thought.
Even so, he continued, his voice as calm as she was agitated. “I have heard that you are frequently at loggerheads with your father over your scholarly pursuits. Surely it comes as no surprise to you that others might share your ill opinion of him.”
Cecily removed her arm from his, and turned to face him, her temper lending her a measure of coolness she did not feel.
“I do not deny that my relationship with my father has often been a difficult one, Your Grace,” she said. “But that relationship is my business. Not yours. If you have brought me here to continue your treatise on the manner in which my father has wronged you, then you will simply have to find a more suitable audience.
“On the other hand,” she continued, turning away, grateful not to be facing him so that she might finish her speech without looking him in the eyes. “You wish to know whether I know anything about your brother’s disappearance, and I will tell you plainly that I do not. As you have stated, my relationship with my father is not always an easy one. I have certainly never been his confidante on matters relating to his expeditions, given the fact that he has refused to take me with him, but his recent illness has meant that we are unable to speak of even innocuous topics. William’s disappearance has been as much a mystery to me as I suppose it is for you.”
At the mention of his brother, she saw him tense up. At her denial of having any more information, however, he sighed in frustration. A pang of sympathy ran through her as she thought of how difficult it must be not to know what had happened to his brother. At least she and Violet had Papa here in their care. Having him go missing would have been unimaginable.
Winterson stepped back and handed her down to sit on the bench, then used his walking stick to lower himself to the one opposite.
“I thank you for your candidness, Miss Hurston,” he said, his blue eyes meeting hers. She noticed for the first time a tiny network of lines in the skin around them, and more bracketing his mouth. Both, she suspected, remembering his attempts to charm her this morning, were from laughing. Though she had doubts that he’d spent much time in that activity since his brother’s disappearance.
“I don’t suppose you have access to any of your father’s papers from that trip, either?”
“I’m afraid not,” she said, hating to dash his hopes again. “Those are what I was looking for this morning at the Egyptian Club.”
“Ah,” he said, infusing the word with more emotion than should be possible.
“I didn’t arrive in time to hear your reason for trying to get in.” He grinned. “I was, however, able to see you kick the door in frustration.”
Cecily felt her cheeks redden. “Not one of my finer moments,” she said, looking at her hands. Then, her sense of humor intervening, she continued, “In my defense it was a most impertinent door.”
Their eyes met and held for a moment. Cecily felt the breath rush from her under the intensity of his blue gaze.
“I suspected as much,” he said gravely, one dark brow curving upward. “It had that look about it.”
Cecily couldn’t help herself, giving in to a surprised laugh that punctured the veil of seriousness that had held them. Winterson laughed too, and for a moment, Lord Hurston’s illness and Will’s disappearance were forgotten in that flash of shared mirth.
Their laughter spent, they sat together smiling until
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