Page 39 of In a Rake's Embrace
“I can see so far,” he gasped.
“What can you see?” she asked.
“Everything!The city, the river, the lamps and fireplace in people’s windows, and I think … yes, I can see the stars better from here. They’re so bright.”
Agatha smiled, a wistful ache piercing her chest. “It’s like we’re flying among them, and there is a feeling that if we go close enough, we just might unravel the wonders of our world.”
She lifted her hand toward the sky, narrowing her gaze and peering up, making it appear like the stars were resting delicately on the tips of her fingers. “I wished we could go closer.”
Ronald nodded, seeming beyond words. He lifted the telescope toward the stars again, captivated by the view.
Agatha turned to Thomas, who had remained quiet, watching his brother with deep affection. “You are quiet.”
His gaze flicked to her, and so effortlessly, her heart skipped and danced beneath her breastbone.
“I have been in an air balloon several times.”
“This very one?”
“No. This was one specially made for Ronald.”
“This … it is owned and not rented?”
He glanced at Ronald. “When Ronald and I were younger, we often climbed trees together. My brother always wanted to do what I did, even when it was hard. We sat on branches for hours, staring at the stars. We talked endlessly about the possibilities of this world—that maybe, just maybe, life existed somewhere beyond the stars. He believed that is where our father went, and I agreed. Whenever he was troubled, we would climb a tree and talk.”
Agatha tilted her face toward the sky, captivated by the idea. Such thoughts had never occurred to her before. Life, for as long as she could remember, had been about surviving—how to make it through the day, the week, or the month. It was always about ensuring there was enough food for her siblings, blanketsto keep them warm, or finding help when they fell ill. There was never any room for whimsy ... or friendship, or dreams.
Since her mother’s death, Agatha realized she had not stopped moving or worrying. She did not dwell on the pastor allow herself the luxury of imagining the future. She was firmly rooted in the present, each moment consumed by responsibility.
What would it be like to imagine, even for a moment, that the distant dreams she once held inside could come true?
A tight sensation gripped her heart as the thought took hold. What would it be like to have someone in her life who encouraged her to reach for those dreams—someone who would catch herand hold her close, even if she never quite achieved them? She swallowed against the unfamiliar feeling that stirred within her, an unknowing longing that felt terrifying.
“What happened after?” she asked softly, the question almost an invitation to understand something she had never known.
“He told me he wished he could be closer to the stars. I promised him that one day he would be.”
“From that conversation, you had this built?”
“Yes,” he said, gazing at the sky. “It took time, but I wanted to be sure it would be here for him when he was ready.”
“But … what if he never wanted to take the ride?”
Thomas didn’t respond right away. Silence stretched between them, the only sounds being the faint creaking of the basket as the balloon drifted higher and Ronald’s occasional sigh of happiness.
Finally, Thomas spoke, his voice quieter than before. “It wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t be a waste. I just needed him to know that the opportunity was there if he wanted to explore.”
Agatha stared at him, her heart swelling with an intangible emotion that vanished before she could understand its existence.
“You are wonderful,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Thomas jerked slightly, his eyes snapping to hers. For a moment, he stared at her, then his mouth quirked. The man before her seemed so different from the whispers that echoed through the halls ofAphrodite. Many claimed he was a disreputable libertine; some even called him cunning and dangerous. They spoke of him as a reckless gambler, capable of losing thousands of pounds in a single night, only to win it back and more. Some ladies said he had no feelings of softness or whimsy, only cold pragmatism. However, Agatha realized they did not know the man, only what he allowed them to see. She wanted to know him.
“Come here, Agatha.”
The low command sent a ripple through her. She glanced at Ronald, still absorbed with the spyglass pressed to his eye, eagerly scanning the skies and horizon.
“When he gets lost in his own world, he can ignore everything around him for hours,” Thomas murmured. “I have often wondered what it would like to live in his thoughts.”
