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‘How?’
Hannah shook her head thoughtfully. ‘It was so long ago, and I don’t really know anything for certain. It’s more just things I’ve picked up from throwaway comments. I think she was very close to my dad—her brother. And when Mum entered the scene, Aunt Cathy was jealous. Hurt. My mum was...’ Hannah’s smile was melancholy and she closed her eyes, seeing Eleanor May as she’d been in life—so vital, so beautiful. ‘She was a pretty amazing woman. A diplomat for the United Nations, well travelled, passionate, funny, and so stunning.’
‘So this is where you get it from,’ he murmured, the compliment wrapping around her, filling her with gold dust.
Hannah smiled slowly, memories of her past pulling at her. ‘I used to love watching her get ready for parties. She had this long, dark brown hair, like chocolate, that fell to her waist. She would coil it up into a bun, high on the top of her head, so that whatever dangly earrings she chose to wear would take your breath away.’ Hannah felt him come closer, his body heat and proximity firing something in her blood.
‘And she and Dad were so happy together. They used to laugh, all the time. I was just a kid when they died, but I’ll never forget them, I’ll never forget how lucky I was to have them as my example in life.’
He was quiet, but it didn’t matter. Some part of Leonidas had slipped into Hannah, forming a part of her, so she understood—she understood his silence equated to disapproval of Aunt Cathy, and her inability to let Hannah properly grieve.
And long-held needs to defend Aunt Cathy were difficult to ignore. ‘Cathy and Gary weren’t like my parents. They married young, because she was pregnant. She lost the baby but they stayed together and it always felt a bit like they resented each other.’
She turned to face him then, her chest heavy with the myriad sadnesses of the past. ‘I don’t want our marriage to be like that, Leonidas.’
Her eyes raked his face and she chewed her lower lip thoughtfully as he stared at her, his eyes unshifting from hers, his expression impossible to interpret.
‘I was wrong about you.’ Leonidas’s words came out hoarse, thickened by regret.
‘When?’
‘I presumed you did not know enough of grief to counsel me, to offer me any thoughts on my own experiences. That was incredibly arrogant.’ He lifted a hand, running it over her hair, his attention shifting higher, as if mesmerised by the auburn shades there, flecked with gold. ‘I downplayed what you have been through because I couldn’t believe anyone could feel loss like mine.’
‘It’s not like yours,’ she said softly, gently, her heart breaking. ‘No grief is the same. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose your partner, nor your child.’ She shook her head sadly from side to side. ‘I’m five months pregnant and the idea of anything ever ha
ppening to our daughter fills me with a kind of rage I can’t put into words.’ Her lips twisted in a humourless smile. ‘You must be a mix of anger and fury and pain and disbelief all the time.’ She swallowed, rallying her thoughts. ‘You don’t need to apologise to me. I understood what you meant.’
‘But I didn’t understand you,’ he insisted. ‘I didn’t realise that beyond the somewhat sanitised phrase of “orphan” are all the memories of parents you loved, parents who made you happy and secure, parents who were replaced by an inferior substitute—an insecure and competitive woman who spent her life trying to diminish you.’
Hannah’s lips pulled downwards, as she tried to reconcile his vision of Aunt Cathy.
‘You should have studied law,’ he said, simply. ‘And anyone who loved you would have pushed you to do that, supporting you, encouraging you, making it easier—not harder—to pursue your dreams.’
Hannah’s heart turned over in her chest, because he was right. Even Angus hadn’t said as much to her.
‘Your parents left you money. That could have been used to fund your studies.’
‘I couldn’t access it yet, not for another two years.’
‘But a bank would have loaned against that expectation, if your aunt and uncle couldn’t cover your expenses in the interim. There were ways for you to live your dreams but she held you back because she didn’t want you to succeed.’
Something sparked in Hannah’s chest because he was right, and she’d made excuses for Cathy and Gary all her life and she didn’t want to do it any more.
‘I miss my mum and dad every day,’ she said, simply, focussing on the only kernel of good she could grasp at. ‘Especially now.’ She ran a hand over her stomach, thinking of the daughter growing inside her, and love burst in her soul.
The air between them resonated with understanding, with compassion, and then Hannah blinked away, moving her focus to the vista before them.
Their conversation was serious, and yet she felt a shifting lightness in her heart, a sense of newness. Perhaps it was simply the beauty of the day, or looking down over the horizon and seeing so much that fascinated her, so much to explore, but she found herself smiling.
‘What’s down there?’ She nodded towards the village she could see in the distance. ‘I thought this was a private island.’
‘It is. That’s the staff quarters.’
‘Staff quarters?’
His smile was teasing. ‘Where did you think all the people in the house went to at night?’
‘I didn’t think about it,’ she said, and he smiled then, a smile that was natural and easy and that made her pulse feel as if it had hitched a ride on a roller coaster and were zipping and whooshing through her body.
