Page 22 of Caged in Desire
Smirking, I revel in the shocked look on her face as she makes an adorably indignant sound.
“First of all, I have never once looked like a gremlin…”
“And I appreciate you joining me out here. I had forgotten about how special this land is, and how many secrets and adventures it holds. You’ve already realized it in the shortamount of time you’ve been here, and it’s helped me remember. So I owe you a very big thank-you,” I say, hoping she can see the sincerity on my face.
I mean every word. Having traveled for so long, I had neglected the estate, including the land and the staff. Katarina has helped me rekindle my love for being here, and she deserves to feel my appreciation.
As usual, she deflects the compliment immediately, a deep instinct of hers that I don’t understand. She does, however, accept the wrapped egg-and-cheese biscuit I hand her from my pack, making grabby gestures with her hands like a little raccoon.
It’s such an adorable action that I’m distracted from where I’m walking and stumble over a tree root, managing to turn and land sitting down in the dirt rather than falling on my face. Katarina is immediately in front of me, looking at me with concern.
“Henry, are you okay? Let me help you up,” she says, reaching out a hand for mine.
She still hasn’t learned that she won’t be any help in getting me up, but I place my hand in her tiny one anyway, feeling amusement at the barely there tug I feel as she gives all her effort to pulling on my arm. It’s endearing that she tries so hard to help me.
Back on the move, she polishes off two biscuits before waving off a third.
“If I eat any more, I’ll get sleepy, and then you’ll have to carry me the rest of the way,” she jokes, pulling off her jacket and wrapping it around her waist.
“That wouldn’t be a problem,” I say. “In fact, we’re approaching an area that gets notoriously marshy when it rains like it has recently, so I’ll be carrying you for a while anyway.”
Her head snaps up to look at me with an indignant expression. “I’m not going to let you carry me around like some overgrowntoddler. Besides, you’ll get tired, and I don’t want to burden you…ooomph!”
Picking her up and cradling her bridal style before she has a chance to deny me, I point out the deep mud I’m currently trudging through. Mouth hanging open, she stares at me, then at the squelching mud, then back at me, tightening her grip around my neck.
“I’ll admit this is a superior mode of travel to mucking about in that. Thank you for carrying me. I hope I’m not too heavy.” She sighs, relaxing her head against my chest.
I can smell her from here, no perfume today, just a mixture of her shampoo with her underlying musk.
“If you didn’t already know, you’re a slight thing. You’ll never be too heavy for me to carry, wherever you need to go,” I say quietly, and we continue toward our destination.
Sitting in the shade of a magnolia tree, we’ve made it to our destination at the edge of the orchard, but I refuse to let her explore until she eats. I’m already starting to understand the fine line between not hungry and hangry, and for my own health, I’m determined not to cross it again. Although it’s certainly been a task to keep her from looking around the greenhouse beside us. She briefly read about it in one of the books we looked at last night from our archives on the property and has been excited about exploring all morning.
“You’re not telling me that you and your cousin actually spent three months living in the woods behind your house aschildren?” I ask, incredulous as Katarina laughs, recounting another of her and Sasha’s adventures. She described him as more of a brother, and it’s clear that’s exactly how they grew up. It occurs to me that she must really miss him, and I need to invite him over for dinner. Perhaps a standing invitation with Ledger, Sloane, Margot, Jack, and Mother. A big family dinner once or twice a month.
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” she says, swallowing another mouthful of soup from the tureen I packed this morning. “Although we spent every night inside, and had our meals packed from the kitchen…and I think we always had at least one bodyguard discreetly trailing us in case we got off the marked paths. But yes, for three months, we spent most of our time in the woods pretending we had been shipwrecked.”
Eating my own soup, I listen as she describes their efforts to learn survival skills, working their way through a large portion of the Eagle Scout handbook and reading everything they could get their hands on. I’m pleased to hear that she knows so much about wilderness survival, especially if she’ll be spending so much time walking the estate. She finishes regaling me with their outdoor adventures and moves on to their obsession with mermaids, telling me about their intricately choreographed synchronized routines performed to precision.
Thinking of a young Katarina, giving her all to perfectly execute a mermaid swim routine, I can’t help but smile. It reminds me of Margot, trying her hardest to perform the Rose Adagio. My parents went too far indulging her, but I know it’s impossible not to spoil only daughters, at least a little.
“You two sound like my sister. I can’t imagine how much your parents must have enjoyed watching the two of you and your hijinks.”
Her face subtly darkens as she fusses with her soup, and I realize I must have broached a sensitive subject.Her parents.Ofcourse. I saw how cold her father can be at our rehearsal dinner, and if she was close with her mother before she died, she surely would have mentioned her. This is a harsh reminder of how little I know my wife, but I’ve already resolved to make more of an effort, and there’s no way to learn more except to ask.
“Were you close to your parents when you were younger?” I ask softly, avoiding the obvious fact that she and her father aren’t close now.
After a pause, she blows out a breath before turning to give me a sad smile. “My mother died giving birth to me. And my father, well. The episode the night before the wedding wasn’t a one-off. He isn’t, and has never been, overtly cruel or abusive. It’s just that he’s very matter-of-fact. So no, I wouldn’t say we were close.”
Looking at me, she must see the confusion and sadness on my face, imagining a small Sasha and Katarina putting on a performance for household staff only, instead of a cozy family scene like the one I grew up with. Immediately, she tries to gloss over my concern.
“He was fine, Henry. Truly. He would certainly never shy away from telling me he was proud of my school accomplishments, particularly when I started to take the advanced courses. And he was thrilled I was able to pick up languages so quickly. He considered it a huge asset. Plus, we had a wonderful team of nannies and tutors when our dads were traveling, and they would check in with us through the staff to make sure we were behaving. And Ithinkhe was proud of the way I conducted myself at the wedding, so it all worked out in the end.” She polishes off her soup and turns to rummage around in my pack for the cookie I promised her once she was done.
“I was proud,” I say quietly after a moment, and she stills but doesn’t turn around. “I’ve certainly never seen a more beautiful bride, nor one who held herself with so much grace and poisethroughout what was an excruciatingly long, ornate affair. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. You had a smile for everyone you met, just as radiant at the end of the night as you were at the beginning of the day.”
As I suspected, this compliment is deflected as well, with her murmurs about the hair and makeup team and basic manners glossing over the fact that she had been, in fact, a young woman faced with quite a challenge. One that she has risen to with aplomb. If I had expected any sort of spoiled, self-assured confidence from my young wife, I was clearly mistaken. My knee-jerk reaction to compare her to my sister was unfair because as much as I love my sister, she was coddled and spoiled to a degree that made her late teens and early twenties sometimes trying, as she felt she always knew best.
Katarina is humble.Too humble.She hasn’t been told what a marvel she is. Certainly not often enough to understand that she’s an extremely accomplished young woman and should be proud ofherself, first and foremost.
