Page 83 of Charming Artemis

“I get the impression she is a very guarded person,” Mater said. “Acknowledging that something matters to her likely feels too vulnerable.”

“She has mentioned that she likes my new wardrobe,” he said. “I know she takes great interest in such things, has studied fashion almost academically. I had hoped a bit of effort on my part would show her I was listening when she spoke of it and that I care about the things that matter to her.”

“That is worth a great deal, Charlie.”

Artemis adjusted her position a little, though she didn’t wake in the slightest.

“Would you fetch a throw from the window seat?” he asked. “She never sleeps this soundly; I don’t want her rest ruined because she’s cold.”

“Of course.” Mater returned with a heavy throw and spread it over Artemis, tucking it a bit around her before retaking her seat.

“Artie asked me once what it was like to have a mother.” Charlie laid his arm on Artemis once again. “She never had one.” He looked at Mater. “I told her she has one now. I hope she believes me.”

“So do I,” Mater said. “And I suspect Mr. Layton would be more than happy to take up the role of father, should she allow him to. He is quite fond of her.”

“She has someone to fill that role... somewhere.”

“I thought her father passed away.”

Charlie nodded. “He did, a few years ago, but he was never part of her life. Not truly.”

“Then someone else?”

He didn’t know how much of the history he could share with Mater. Artemis hadn’t told him her wishes on that matter. And yet, how could they hope to find her Papa if those who might be able to help identify him were not enlisted to do so?

“If I tell you something she told me in confidence... ”

“You can depend upon me,” she said.

There was no one Charlie trusted more than his mother. “When Artemis was a little girl, she crossed paths with a gentleman who showed her particular kindness. He found her when she was hopelessly lost—figuratively and literally—and showed her love she did not feel from her own father. Her memories of him are vague; she was very young during their first encounter. She does remember that he was a gentleman, likely about the age of her father—”

“Ofmygeneration, then, more or less,” Mater interjected.

Charlie nodded. “He told her he had a home of his own and children. This would have been about fifteen years ago. She saw him a few more times in Heathbrook but not often. It is likely he did not live in the area but passed through somewhat regularly. When her oldest sister married, Artemis left the area to live in Northumberland and has not seen him since.”

Mater hmmm’d, the sound one of pondering. “That corner of Shropshire does not rest on a main thoroughfare. I would wager the number of people who regularly passed through is somewhat limited. We traversed Shropshire now and then on our way to visit Aldric at his estate, though that was not always the path we took.”

“Would Lord Aldric have passed through Heathbrook, do you suppose, or any of the other Gents?” Charlie asked. “They are all the age of the gentleman she is seeking.”

“I would guess they have all passed through Shropshire, though whether through her village, I don’t know.”

Charlie hadn’t realized that. “It feels like such an impossible mystery to solve. But you should see how her entire countenance changes when she speaks of her Papa. There is hope in her eyes. She speaks of him as someone who loves her, as the one man whose love and tenderness and devotion she depends on. She speaks of finding him again with so much eagerness and longing. She told me she’d always dreamed of him being at her wedding and loving her children as his own grandchildren. She even admitted one of the reasons she draws so much attention when she is in Society is to increase the likelihood that he will take note of her and realize who she is.”

“The poor dear.” Mater pressed a hand to her heart. “And she has no clue as to his identity?”

“None. She is entirely dependent on him recognizing and remembering her. That it hasn’t happened yet, I think, has dealt her a greater blow than she admits. Her father never acknowledged her—literally never did. To be forgotten by her Papa would devastate her.”

“And she has always called him Papa?” Mater asked the question as if it were of great import.

“It is the only name she has for him.”

“And does she suspect he knows her name?” Mater pressed.

“She is certain he doesn’t,” Charlie said. “He always called her Princess.”

“Oh, Charlie.” Mater took in a sharp breath. “When did she last see him?”

Something had just changed. The conversation quite suddenly held a note of earnestness.

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