“Whyyou left India.Whyyou came here, to Richmond.Whyyou keep to the estate and leave as infrequently as possible? Why is that?”
She’d got in too deep, too quick. But maybe she could use it as a bargaining point.
“If I tell you, will you tell me something about yourself?”
“Sure. Why not? I suspect your secrets will prove far more interesting than mine. Let’s start with why you and your mother left India.”
“Okay.” She pointed to the sofas, which were arranged around a coffee table for informal meetings. “If we’re going to do this, let’s at least make ourselves comfortable.” She shot him a quick smile. “I’ve been on my feet all day.”
He gave one quick nod of agreement and followed her to the sofa. He sat forward, his hands clasped in front of him. She pushed off her shoes and tucked her feet under her, grabbing an old velvet cushion in front of her as if it would shield her from him. He looked at her from under a lowered brow, but the panic had subsided, replaced by interest.
“Go on,” he said. “You have my full attention.”
She sucked in a deep breath. Keep calm. Keep the images at bay. Just tell a version of the truth to satisfy Sebastian. Just tell. Don’t remember.
“My father and brother…” She played the word around in her mouth, but it took a few seconds before it emerged. “They died.”
“I’m sorry. Some kind of accident?”
She grimaced. “Some kind.”
“You were young to experience such a tragedy. But it’s not a reason to leave your home and your country. Leaving behind everything you know, your family, friends, your life, there’s usually one of two reasons for doing something like that. Either you’re runningtosomething, or runningawayfrom something. Which was it in your case?”
She hesitated, not wanting to answer but aware that the sense of panic had left him. She had no choice but to continue. She had no choice but to tell the truth, because he already knew she and her mother had been strangers to Sebastian’s father. And why would they run to a stranger? But maybe she could make use of his attention to further distract him. It was going to be a long night with only the two of them, and she didn’t relish the thought of being alone with a panicked Sebastian. A calm one was challenging enough. She looked around to the kitchenette in one corner.
“It’s a long story. Would you like a drink?”
He followed her gaze. “A whiskey, but I doubt you have that.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t. No alcohol, I’m afraid. But I have herbal teas. Would you like one?”
He pulled a face, and she tried hard not to smile. “I’ll make one anyway for you to try. You never know, you might like it.” Her amused smile was met with a scowl, but it didn’t weaken her resolve. She had other drinks in the cupboard, but she didn’t want to amp up his adrenalin with a black coffee.
She walked over to the kitchenette her step-father had installed for her and filled the kettle. She could sense his eyes on her back. She looked over her shoulder and sure enough, he was watching her every move. She was beginning to think his panic was going to transfer to her and, for the first time, realized the implications of being stuck in a room with him overnight. Unless a miracle happened, this was exactly what was going to happen. She shot him an uncertain smile and focused on getting them both drinks. If only she lived in a different age and had some kind of magic potion to slip into it to send him to sleep. With the chamomile brewed, she poured them both cups and returned to the sofas.
“You’ve certainly made over this place,” he commented, probably taking in for the first time the alterations she’d made to the old nursery.
“I always felt this was my space—a place I could make my own without affecting anyone else.”
“Yes, Father wouldn’t have cared what you did with this. He never came up here.”
“Oh, he did.” She wished she hadn’t replied so quickly when she saw the surprised look in his eyes.
“Really? Why?”
She shrugged, trying to think how she could retract her statement. “Oh, you know, brief visits.”
“Right. To see you. To meet with you. To talk with you. Am I right?”
“Yes.”
“He never came here when me and my brothers were children. You and your mother certainly wrought some magic over him to make him change so much.”
“There was no magic.”
“Call it what you will. The man you’re talking about wasn’t the man I knew. Anyway, I’m not interested in talking about him. I’m interested in finding out more about you.”
She frowned. Why was he so interested in her past? She knew Sebastian well enough now to realize that he never did anything for no reason, especially idle curiosity. In which case, why did he want to know about her background?