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Evie sobered. “You deride me for not understanding your world. I think you hate me for it,” she admitted softly. “I assure you I am not judging your decision, I only want to understand.”

Shock flared in his eyes. “I do not hate you. I could never hate you.”

Relief bit deep into her heart at his vehement denial. “There is a caution in your eyes when you peer at me. There is judgment…and I think it is because I do not understand as you do.”

A piercing scream rent the air, and Evie gasped. With a rough curse, Richard launched to his feet, bolted from the library, and bounded up the stairs two at a time. She followed as fast as she could, and when she reached the landing, she raced down the hallway until she came to an ajar door. He was sitting on a bed, cradling a child in his arms. Emily? Evie moved closer without making a sound, not wanting to disturb their private moment but drawn to this side of Richard that she had never seen. He was murmuring soothing nonsense, stroking the girl’s hair.

“Hush now, I’m here.”

An ache bloomed in Evie’s heart to see such tenderness from him. He laid his cheek against her dark curls and held her, rocking gently, and the child quieted, snuggling into his chest as if she wanted to be a part of him.

“I dreamt again, Papa, the rats were bitin’ me,” she hiccupped. “The bad man locked me in the room with them, and he beat me with the straps when I was ’feared.”

He murmured something too low for Evie to decipher, but his daughter nodded.

“Will ye sing to me, Papa?”

He gathered her even closer into his arms and started singing softly.

“Fear not, little princess, you are brave and strong. The monsters are long gone, we have slayed them all. I’ll be here, so the monsters will dare not return.”

Evie smiled. He sounded atrociously unmusical, but his daughter’s shoulders relaxed, and her eyelashes fluttered against her lids. “I love you, Papa,” she said on a whispery sigh. “You always make the bad men go away.”

“I love you most,” he returned, brushing his lips against her forehead.

Then they said together, “We love each other the same.”

After giggling sweetly, Emily softened with absolute trust, and within seconds her breathing deepened. She appeared so small, frailer than the child of seven Evie knew her to be. Richard continued humming, and she moved away, careful to not make any sounds.

She headed downstairs to the music room, questions rioting in her mind and anger churning in her blood. How could there be people in the world who would harm innocent children? She thought of her younger sisters, the comfort and secure haven they lived within. Little Emily never had that, and instead of society empathizing, they cruelly criticized Richard for wanting to protect her and give her a home.

How could they have gotten it so wrong? She hurried down the hall, eager to feel the keys of the piano beneath her fingertips, to hear music, to soothe the confusion and disgust twisting within her soul. Evie entered the music room, delighted with the grand piano that dominated the far-left corner of the room. Her feet sank into the plush dark green carpet as she glided over to the instrument. She allowed her fingers to dance over the keys with soft pings, her thoughts forever frozen on the haunting look of regret and pain that had settled on Richard’s features.

It baffled her to realize there was still so much about him she did not know.

A sound had her spinning around, her hand fluttering to her chest. “Oh, you gave me a fright!”

A smile tipped Richard’s lips, and he moved into the room, closing the door. “I’ve ordered the carriage to be readied for you.”

“Yes, of course, it is frightfully late, and Adel must be wondering what has kept me.”

He thrust his fingers deep into his pocket, his gaze hooded as he observed her. Evie worried at her bottom lip, decidedly uncomfortable at the piercing way he regarded her person. She fought the desire to fidget. “Is…is Emily well?”

“As well as can be.”

“I…I followed after you when she screamed. I overheard her mentioning monsters.”

An unnamed emotion smoldered in his eyes. “Did you now?” A thread of menace colored his tone.

“I love how protective you are of her, but I would never do anything to harm her, Richard. She is…she is precious,” Evie ended softly.

Cynicism twisted his lips into a cold sneer.

She dropped her fingers from the keyboard and linked her hands tightly together to conceal their unsteadiness. How had she been so ignorant of his mistrust of her? “If you have no wish to speak of it, I understand, but if you need a shoulder…I am here.”

A disquieting silence lingered in the room, the crackle of the fireplace the only discordant note.

“At times her eyes are haunted by her past, and I want to slay the world,” he said gruffly. “When I found her, she was half starved, covered with old and fresh bruises, blisters on her feet. All the children here with me now had been residing with Emily in hell. The older ones had been hurt far worse, beaten and broken in ways I am grateful my daughter had been spared. The first time I roused her from a nightmare, her eyes held such hopelessness and rank fear I wept.”


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