Page 45 of Savannah Royals
“Who says I was looking for you?”
“Please! You’ve been found out, Katarina.”
And suddenly, I’m laughing again, grinning from ear to ear like a complete idiot.
“So are you happy to see me?” he asks. “It sure seems like it.”
I strive for a modicum of composure. “I am, actually. I hoped you would introduce me to your brother.” I point at Ethan and smile mischievously.
“Bullshit.”
“Language, Matthew. There are ladies and gentlemen nearby,” I admonish, nodding toward his parents. “Is this going to be our game today?”
“It can be. I call you on your bullshit, that could certainly be fun. It’ll keep me pretty busy, ’cause every other word out of your mouth is full of it.”
“Hey!” I swat him, but he grabs my hand mid-flight.
“So would you like to meet my family? You were looking at them like they hold the meaning of life. I’ll introduce you, then you’ll realize the acclaimed DaMolin clan is just as dysfunctional and ordinary as the rest of the serfs.”
“Serfs?” I chortle, but when he reaches for my hand again, I pull back, uncertain.
The tiniest crease appears between Matthew’s eyebrows. “Is something wrong?”
I lick my lips. Standing here with him, with this man who’s so very luminous and whole, his all-American family ten yards away…I feel my own story, my otherness, acutely. I wrap my arms around my core. My words come out slowly, stilted and drawn. “Your family…it’s rather different from mine, Matthew.” I nod toward his parents again. “It must have been nice growing up.”
“No family is perfect, Kat. Certainly not mine.” Matthew sighs, frown lines deepening. “Being a DaMolin is a privilege, but it doesn’t magically make things easy. I’m sure you heard the rumors. We make our living publishing news, and my father’s fall from grace was quite a headline.”
I shake my hair away from my face before replying. Ihaveheard the rumors, but I’m surprised he’s bringing them up. Headlines rarely reflect reality. How many times has the tale of the Wolfpack been sensationalized to sell copies?
“Rumors are whispers in the wind, Matthew,” I say. “Loud today, forgotten tomorrow. Not to malign your family’s business, but newspapers exist to sell themselves. They very rarely tell the full story.”
“Well, in the case of my father, they had it right. He fell in line thirty years ago to make a proper marriage, one befitting the DaMolin name, but he considered himself married in theory only. His vows meant next to nothing. He sought companionship outside the bonds of his marriage with courtesans—one of whom was my mother.”
I nod.
“Ethan and I are technically half-brothers,” Matthew continues. “His mom died during childbirth, and my dad married my mother—my mother thecourtesan, less than six months later. A marriage of honest love this time, but certainly not one recognized by polite society. It was, so I’m told, the height of scandal.
“The irony of all this”—he waves his hand at the picnic around us—“is that, in those early years, my mother had little business teaching anyone how to be a lady. She needed the lessons Telfair provided as much as the few girls who enrolled. Her life’s work, turning out premier ladies of high society, was her own veiled barb against the institution at large. I quite love that about her, actually.” He smiles wryly. “She found a way to have the lastlaugh—the women who once looked down their noses at her now quietly send their daughters to Telfair to be educated.”
“I was right,” I reply, “the full story is far better than the rumors. I absolutely adore your mother after hearing this. The gumption—can you just imagine?”
“I don’t have to imagine.” He pulls a face. “I lived it, Katarina.”
I wince softly. “I’m sorry, Matthew. I wasn’t assuming—”
“I know you weren’t.” He stops me. “It’s okay. You’re right. Scandal or not, I was luckier than most, and I love my family. They’re wonderful. Not perfect, but forged in fire and all the better for it. My dad looks at my mom like she walks on water, so what does it really matter what other people sometimes say?”
“And Ethan?” I ask.
Matthew shrugs. “He wasn’t even six months old when my mother married our father. He’s called her ‘Mom’ since he learned how to talk, and he views her as nothing less. Beneath his banter and bluster, Ethan is fiercely loyal. He has a big heart, with great capacity for compassion and empathy. We all do. How could we not after what we went through together?”
“How did you put it…forged in fire?” It’s the way I describe my relationship with the Royals. I quite like that he views his own family similarly.
“I did. Our family name has been restored, but it took a lifetime to do it. Along the way, I’ve been called every name in the book, and ‘bastard’ is perhaps the kindest. My parents raised us to be progressive in a world still clinging to the skirts of pomp and circumstance. I’m not interested in the bread-and-circus show. I want to be in the trenches, helping people who need it, not looking down my nose at them. Because trust me, I know what it feels like to be both.”
“I suppose I owe you an apology,” I say, surprising myself. “I misjudged you.”
“You’re hardly the first to do so, and you certainly won’t be the last. I hope you’re taking a second look now though.” His eyes pool so deep into my own, the world tilts beneath my feet.
