The irony was that, as the admiral who had interviewed him pointed out, once the details of his escape got out—as they invariably would—he’d be famous all over again.
Chapter Ten
* * *
Morwenna went downstairs to find Caro and tell her that she and Robert planned to leave for Leicestershire. She found her sister-in-law in the library, writing a letter. To her four children back at Woodley Park, Morwenna guessed.
Caro was a marvellous mother and Morwenna tried to follow her example when it came to Kerenza. So far, it seemed to be working, although at times she despaired of her ability to provide what her high-spirited, fatherless daughter needed.
Fatherless no more, thank God.
At Morwenna’s appearance, Caro surged to her feet and rushed over to give her a hug. “Morwenna, how are you managing?”
To her chagrin, that sympathetic question was all it took to demolish her hard-won control, and she burst into tears. “Oh, Caro...” she said thickly and hugged her dear friend back.
“Shh, shh, sweetheart,” Caro murmured, rubbing her back.
“I shouldn’t be blubbing,” Morwenna choked out into Caro’s welcoming shoulder. “I should be happy.”
“Of course you’re happy,” Caro said unsteadily, and Morwenna realized her friend was crying, too. “We all are.”
She let Caro draw her across to a leather sofa in front of the fire. Outside the rain tumbled down, and the light inside was soft and gray. The library felt like a cozy sanctuary from the real world.
“I am happy,” Morwenna said huskily. “But...”
Caro pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and passed it to Morwenna, even as she wiped her damp eyes with her fingers. “But it’s all been too much to take in. And you’ve been so desperate to keep up a brave front for Robert.”
Morwenna sent Caro a thankful glance out of eyes glazed with tears. “He’s so afraid of losing his control...” Except for those moments when he’d moved inside her body. Then he hadn’t been controlled at all. And she’d loved it. “It’s hard not to turn into a complete watering pot. He’s been through so much and...and...”
“And it shows, although he works like the dickens to hide it. It nearly killed him, telling us what little he did. And it’s clear there was so much more, and so much worse. His courage breaks the heart.”
Morwenna sniffed and gave her friend a shaky smile. “When he was talking to all of us, I just wanted to put my arms around him and tell him that he’s safe now.”
Perhaps in the future, Robert would lay down his defenses long enough to accept comfort separate from desire. But not yet.
As if Caro read her thoughts, she said, “And you’re so afraid that he might break, because all that’s holding him together is pride and that great, brave heart.”
“The heart that kept him alive through his suffering. I really thought I wouldn’t be able to control myself when he told us that horrible, horrible story.”
Caro’s smile was misty. “I was close to bawling like a lost calf. Believe me. And Lord, I thought Silas was going to blow it all by losing his grip.”
“But he held on. He’s been brave, too.”
“The Nash men are remarkable. We’re lucky to have them.”
When Caro stopped talking to direct a searching regard at her, Morwenna realized her expression must have betrayed her.
“Morwenna, you do have him. Surely you know that. The only time he looks halfway close to his old self is when he’s with you.”
Nervous hands tore at the flimsy handkerchief. “Oh, I know he loved me.”
She realized she’d used the betraying past tense when Caro frowned. “For heaven’s sake, the man worships the ground you walk on.”
“I don’t...I don’t think he knows what he feels anymore,” she said in a hollow voice.
Caro made a disgusted sound. “Nonsense. He can’t keep his hands off you.”
She blushed, wondering if the family guessed what had happened in the breakfast room not so long ago. “But that doesn’t mean he still loves me. He’s been locked up for a long time. He has a lot to make up for.”