Even so, it did not excuse her father’s reaction, Ben thought. “And Arnaud?”

“My uncle? He was welcoming enough. He certainly did not have to take me in.” Remi turned from the bookcases and wandered to one of the armchairs close to the fire. Ben followed her, leaning against the mantle as she sat. He could not bring himself to sit yet.

“Then why did he?”

“For the money, I suppose.” Remi shrugged, watching the fire. She pulled her knees up to her chest. “My uncle received a stipend each month worth a generous sum for my care. Rather than disown me publicly, he’d been gracious enough to keep it quiet for the family’s benefit.”

Hush money, Ben thought. It had nothing to do with graciousness and everything to do with the cost of her upkeep. To Ben, it seemed that Arnaud cared little for family and held it over his brother in order to keep the money coming in. It was doubtful Remi ever saw a penny of it; something told him the money wasn’t hers to spend.

“I still think your father is a coward.”

Remi stilled.

“To simply throw you away,” Ben closed his eyes, thinking back to the beach and the day he’d met her. “I cannot fathom it, Remi.”

“I do understand fathers to some degree,” she said gently. “I wasn’t aware that Edgar never wrote to you.”

“It’s in the past now.”

How hard it must have been for her to move elsewhere, to become someone else entirely to people who were not really family. Her worth was a stipend, and no matter what the sum was, her value somehow depreciated because of her parentage, through no fault of her own.

That sounds familiar, doesn’t it? A voice in the back of Ben’s mind taunted.

“You must believe what I said before to be true,” she pleaded. “I did not want to marry your father, but in a way, he gave me freedom. It was a kind gesture.”

“An arranged marriage is hardly freedom,” Ben said, a bit too harshly.

Remi did not flinch. “I know what my life would look like now if I had fought my uncle. Doubtless I would have become a maid, left to polish Beline’s silver.”

“Could Elise not have brought you on as her personal maid?” He was reaching, he knew; to even suggest such a thing felt insensitive to her feelings. Immediately, he regretted asking.

“Elise will be leaving the Isle once she’s married.” Remi paused, suddenly drained of color. “She says New York, perhaps, but I could never be so lucky as to accompany her. My uncle would never allow it, and I shudder to think what might happen to me if the man I called my father ever learned that I left this place.”

“I would never let him hurt you,” Ben said fiercely, drawing her attention back to him.

She smiled a little at that. “Perhaps not now, but you’re only here because I didn’t fight my uncle. We would be passing strangers in a large crowd if we were still living our lives as they were before all of this.” Her head tilted as she spoke, exposing the soft curve where her neck dipped into her shoulder. The ruff of her nightgown hid the secret shape of the collarbone beneath.

Ben squeezed his hands tightly at his sides as he fought the desire to lean in and breathe in the scent of her skin. The need to dispose of her nightdress altogether grew the longer her eyes lingered on his.

“You’re right.” Finally, Ben sought out a seat and sank into it easily. He tried to focus his mind on places less tempting than the shoulder of her nightdress. “Still, if you wanted to leave, I would not stop you from going.”

“And live with a newlywed Elise?” The surprise in her tone was enough to make him second-guess the offer.

“No. I suppose that wouldn’t benefit anyone.” Ben tried to imagine Remi managing Elise. In his mind, her cousin became Beline, and that was a fate he would not wish on his worst enemy.

“In hindsight,” Remi said, “my predicament isn’t so awful. Your father was kind, even if our arrangement was a bit unusual.”

“Unusual?” Ben asked.

“I never…” Remi’s voice trailed off. “....we never...”

“Please.” A blush crept up Ben’s neck and spread across his cheeks. Quickly, he covered his face with his hands, scrubbing at his eyes. “There’s no need to explain.”

“I don’t mind,” she said. “He made it clear to me that his heart still belonged to your mother.”

“My mother,” Ben repeated. He felt the painting’s eyes call to him, scolding as they peered down for being so callous. He smiled inwardly at the idea of his mother meeting the current Madame.

“I always thought she was a beautiful lady,” Remi mused aloud, drawing his attention back to her. “Edgar once said you looked like him in his youth, but I think you are your mother’s son.”

Ben liked that she thought he looked like his mother. He didn’t hear it enough, at least not as much as he would have liked. He might have had his father’s build, the same cut of his jaw and his inscrutable nose, but his mother’s distant Romani heritage held strong. He had her dark hair and the same warm complexion.

“My father doted on her when she was alive.” Ben slid his gaze from the portrait to Remi, focusing on the curve of her ear and the way she tucked her hair behind it. “I suppose that’s one thing we have in common.”

“What’s that?” Remi chuckled lightly.

Ben smirked, raking a hand through his hair. He held her gaze with purpose as he spoke. “He and I are perilously drawn to beautiful things.”

A light blush crept across Remi’s pale cheeks.

She shied away, turning her face into her shoulder. “You tease me too much.”

“Perhaps I do.”

“But I don’t hate it,” she admitted, her ears red.

“Then prepare yourself.” His voice deepened. “I shall find every opportunity to do so more often.”

“I won’t make it easy.”

“I don’t expect you will,” Ben hummed, pleased by her feisty reply. He enjoyed the thought of teasing her more. It stoked a fire in him that he felt when they kissed. Though he was more than satisfied by the image of her flushed cheeks, he would not mind if his teasing led to more fevered kisses in the middle of the night.

“I wish for us to be friends again.” Remi yawned as she curled up in her chair.

Ben snuck a glance at the grandfather clock, suddenly realizing how late it was. He moved to fetch her a blanket from a chest pushed away in a corner.

“Friends,” he repeated, draping the blanket across her body.

“Do you think it’s possible?” Her eyes were heavy with more than sleep. It undid him in a small way to see her so hopeful, yet sad.

“Would that make you happy?”

“Yes. It would please me greatly.” She nodded, her eyes fluttering.

“Then we are friends, Remi.” He didn’t realize until then how much he missed her friendship. The years lay between them, but he knew it would be easy to pick up where they’d left off.

After a beat, the sound of rain pattering against the windows of the study pulled Ben’s attention back to the present. A smile lifted Remi’s pink lips just before she dozed off. She was the picture of comfort as she cozied her chin to her chest, sinking into the seat cushion. It was sweet how easily she faded, and he was afraid to wake her.

I guess then, he glanced up at the portrait of his mother, you and I will be watching over her tonight.