Page 59 of The Villain
Bending the arm holding the basket, he offered it to her with a smirk. She took it, the fit of her hand in the crook of his elbow surprising her in its rightness. If things between their families had not happened the way they did, she might pretend things were different. That the little girl who looked so much like her was her own child, and Adam …
No. She could not think that way. It would be dangerous to allow herself to fall into the trap of delusion. The only thing between her and Adam was a thirty-thousand-pound agreement and weeks of carnal pleasure. That hardly meant he cared about her, and in truth, he had given her no reason at all to care for him.
She would accept this gift as her due—her right as an aunt. Even if she might leave Dunnottar in the morning, never to see Serena again. She would always remember the short time she’d been privileged to know her. Never would she blame Adam for his decision to keep her a secret. That rested upon the heads of her brother and father, who had ensured Serena would never be a part of the Fairchild family.
Leaving the palace, they traversed the large courtyard toward the gatehouse, where the keeper raised the portcullis for them. Instead of taking horses, they walked, Adam insisting they make their way down the northern face of the escarpment, to where the sea lapped at the shore. Daphne’s spirits lifted at the prospect of being able to walk along the beach—something she had not done during her stay at Dunnottar. The weather proved pleasant—mild with just a bit of a crisp breeze.
As they walked down the sloping path, Serena chattered excitedly in the way children were wont to do. Daphne hung on every word, engaging the girl in conversation about the things she liked. Dolls. Seashells. Horses. Ribbon. She clung to those tidbits, storing them in her mind along with other details she picked up. The way Serena’s hair shimmered with golden highlights in the sun, just like hers. How her little nose crinkled when she grinned, and the pitch of her sweet voice.
How had something so precious been born out of such darkness?
It was nothing short of a miracle.
When they reached the sand, Serena released Adam’s hand and dashed off ahead of them, squealing with delight as the wind whipped through her hair. Daphne felt Adam watching her as she observed Serena, and her face warmed, his perusal putting her on edge.
“She is a beautiful child,” she said, for lack of anything better to say.
“Aye,” he agreed. “That, she is.”
Serena had removed her shoes and stockings and now inched toward the edge of the water, giggling in anticipation of the sea washing over her feet.
“She seems so … happy,” she added.
“Niall, Maeve, and I …”
She glanced up at him when he fell silent, her chest squeezing painfully at the sadness turning his eyes into dark pools. He turned to gaze at Serena, his expression softening as if seeing her so happy put him at ease.
“Olivia is in no condition to care for her,” he continued. “Even on days when she is lucid and calm, she thinks of Serena as a playmate. It is almost as if she’s become a child herself. So, Niall, Maeve, and I …”
“You do what you can to care for her,” she supplied. “It seems you are doing a good job of it.”
Shrugging one shoulder, he swiveled his stare back to her. “It never feels like quite enough. She knows she is loved, but I am only her uncle, and Maeve and Niall are only servants. The girl has no mother.”
Joining her hand with the other upon his arm, she clung to him, leaning close. “That is not true. She does have a mother … and even if she realizes Olivia is not perfect, I am certain Serena knows that she loves her. That sort of bond is not easily broken.”
Slowly nodding, he seemed to digest that for a moment before speaking again. “Aye … I suppose you are right.”
They stood that way for a time—Daphne hanging on to his arm, her head rested upon his shoulder while they watched Serena play in the surf.
“Go on,” he chided after some time had passed. “This is your chance to get to know her. Do not waste it.”
Taking his advice, she dropped his arm and kicked off her slippers. After peeling off her stockings, she set off across the sand toward Serena. The girl waved her over, delighted to show her the shells that had washed ashore.
For hours, they splashed and played in the water, dug in the sand for shells, all under Adam’s watchful eye. He kept his distance, seated in the sand beside their picnic basket, his posture and bearing more relaxed than she’d ever seen them.
Finally, they trudged back toward him, the hems of their gowns soaked and speckled with sand, their hair hopelessly tousled by the wind.
“You look like a couple of sea sprites, the pair of you,” Adam quipped as they knelt in the sand before him.
“Are sea sprites magic?” Serena asked, her eyes wide with expectation.
Chuckling, he reached out to swipe a bit of sand from her cheek. “Aye, little one … they are the most beautiful sort of magic.”
The girl smiled up at Daphne, nestling close against her side as Adam opened the basket and began producing its contents.
“Did you hear, Daphne? Uncle Adam says we’re magic.”
She could not help a smile, raising her hand to lay it upon Serena’s head. “Yes, sweetling, I heard.”
