Page 70 of Charming Artemis

“He bought me a sweet in the sweetshop each time I saw him.”

Ah.“Your five sweets.”

“I never felt more loved than I did when he was with me and called me Princess and said that he loved me.” Her shoulders drooped a little. “He was the only one other than Persephone who ever said that, you know. I wanted my father to. I silently willed him to, concentrating so hard I often gave myself a horrible headache. But he never did.”

He wished Artemis had lived closer to Lampton Park. Just as the family had unofficially adopted their neighbor Arabella Hampton, they would have embraced Artemis as well. She wouldn’t have been the least bit alone.

“When Papa—I still think of him that way—and I crossed paths after that first time, he remembered me and recognized me. He scooped me up and hugged me so tight and so lovingly.” She sighed. “It was the most wonderful feeling in all the world.”

“And you saw him only those five times?” He was making progress with her hair. More importantly, they were making progress in their connection. She was sharing personal memories and doing so without her protective armor.

“We left to live at Falstone Castle after that,” Artemis said. “He likely passed through the village again and again. He probably does so now, but I’m not there.” Unmistakable sadness hung in the words. “I’m frantic to see him again, but it often feels like an impossible dream.”

“Could you not send a letter or reach out to a family member of his?”

“I never knew his name,” she said.

He began plaiting her hair, the only style Marion had taught him but one that worked well with Caroline’s curls.

“And I don’t know that he ever learned my name,” Artemis said. “We were Papa and Princess, only ever crossing paths in Heathbrook.”

“Surely your sisters would have known who he was.”

“They didn’t see him on that first encounter. Once I spied them, he didn’t want me to lose sight of them again and urged me to run over to them. When I was safely with Persephone, I looked back and he was gone already. After that, I encountered him on my own. Our family life grew more difficult and chaotic, and it was very easy to slip away unnoticed.”

His heart broke for that little girl. It was little wonder the lady she was now kept everyone at arms’ length.

“I was so young when I last saw him, and my memories of him are broken by the passage of time. I remember that he dressed finely, considerably more so than my father. And I recall that his manner of speaking was very proper and refined, though I cannot recall the exact sound of his voice. I don’t remember what he looked like. I have guesses, but how much of that is my imagination and how much is actual memory, I can’t say.”

“How do you mean to find him if you remember so little of him?”

“I am dependent on him remembering me. I think he would, don’t you? He cared a great deal about me; he said he did. I think he would remember me.” She took a somewhat shaky breath. “He told me during our first time together to ‘keep to the light.’ He meant it literally then, but I’ve adopted that as a maxim these past years. I require myself to find a way to keep hoping, but sometimes, it grows very difficult. Sometimes it feels impossible.”

Charlie tied the ribbon around the tail of the plait he’d created. That would hold her hair in place. “There you are, Artie. Tamed and manageable hair.”

She reached up and touched it gingerly with her hand. “It feels far less chaotic. I might even be able to put on a bonnet.”

He slid around again, sitting at her side and facing her. “Do you look drastically different than you did the last time you saw your Papa?” he asked.

“I don’t think so, other than being older, obviously. My hair was the same color, the same curliness. My eyes are green, which is unique enough to be memorable. I think if he happened to see me or take note of me, he would realize who I was. He was an adult when we knew each other. Adults remember things far more clearly than little children do.” She looked at him with an expression of greater uncertainty than her declaration would indicate.

Here was someone who needed reassuring. “I haven’t the least doubt he remembers you. But with you not living in Heathbrook any longer, and he living elsewhere also, your paths aren’t as likely to cross. Not finding him yet, I am certain, is more a matter of geography than forgettability.”

She turned a little so she faced him more directly. “I have pinned all my hopes on crossing his path in London. Everything I remember of him indicates he is a gentleman and would likely be there for the social whirl. I am there every Season and, heaven knows, I draw enough attention that he ought to at least glance my way at some point. I make certain of it.” She sounded almost exhausted at the recounting of her whirl of activity in Town. “Thus far, he hasn’t found me, but I have hope that he still will. Well, not this Season; it ended too abruptly.”

When they’d departed for Brier Hill, she had been upset about leaving London when the social whirl had only just begun. He’d assigned her frustration to shallowness and bitterness.Making assumptions tends to land one in greater difficulties.“I was lonely and desperate for someone to care about me,” she said. “That likely lent our time together more meaning for me than for him. He told me he had a home and family of his own. I was likely very easily forgotten.”

He slipped his hand around hers. “No one who has met you could possibly forget you.”

She leaned forward a bit, resting lightly against his chest. “But what if my Papa did? What if I can’t ever find him?”

Charlie wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him. “Keep to the light, Artie.”

“I’ve spent my entire life waiting for him to come back to me,” she said, curling into Charlie’s embrace. “I even dreamed of him being at my wedding and a guest in my home and a loving and important part of my life.” She sounded as though she’d lost hope.

“I don’t think you should give up hope. He must be somewhere.”

“But I don’t know how to find him.”

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