Page 25 of Once Upon a Reckless Rogue

What was wrong with her? She had practically told him he should marry her. She had not considered marriage to anyone, so why was she telling him he should when, really, his reasons for not marrying were as valid as any other reason.

Turning back towards him and shading her eyes from the morning sun, she said, “I am sorry, Tomas. I have no right to tell you how you should live your life. Marry or not marry; it is your choice.”

He simply nodded and came up beside her. “No need to apologize. I value your opinion and what you said was legitimate. I guess we just think differently on the subject. Let us talk of something else.”

“Something else?”

“Yes, tell me more about your father. If you are happy to, of course.”

“It is sad, but I worry I am forgetting what he looks like the more the years pass. I mean, I remember him having a great mustache that he took great pride in. He smoked a pipe by the fire at night, and he would tell me of his adventures as a child. I am sure most of them were made up. I didn’t care; I just loved the sound of his voice. The smell of the tobacco he smoked and the spicy wine he drank. Do you remember your father?”

Tomas fell in step with her. “My father was often a closed book, I’m afraid, but he held great expectations of me—that he made clear to me whenever he was home. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps as a navy man, but I went into the army instead. I know that disappointed him, but I wanted to make my mark on my own and not because of my father’s reputation.”

“But you are a great army captain. Surely he was proud of that?”

“He believed there was seawater in our blood, as my grandfather and his father before him had all been in the navy and had made their fortune there. So going into the army was a failure in his eyes. I have pushed myself to my limits to make him proud, but he died before I even got my first promotion. After that, I did it to honor his memory, which is stupid considering he is dead. A grown man still trying to win favor of his father’s ghost.”

“I am sure he is very proud. You survived the torture of the French and won many battles. You are a man of conviction and honor. Isn’t that the mark of a man?”

“That depends on what kind of mark a man wants to make. I think he would have been disappointed in my decision to become a spy. He would not have thought it an honorable thing to do, trading in secrets.”

“Fathers and their expectations. I don’t think my father would have been pleased to find out that I still practiced medicine at all. He wanted me to marry, give him grandchildren, not tend to a beaten-up Englishmen.”

“So, we are both disappointing to our fathers then.”

“I guess we are. Are you sorry you decided on this path? Other than the torture part, that is.”

“No. I’m not sorry. Are you?”

“No. I am glad I am defying my father. Tending to others makes me feel worthy of a place in this world. I am useful to those in pain.”

“You are useful and worthy. I can vouch for that.”

“You have to be. I saved your life,” she said, a smile teasing the corner of her lips.

He laughed. “There is that.”

Both their fathers had made their choices and influenced their children, but in the end, both he and Elena had chosen their own paths.

Although she had kept up her profession of healing anyone in need, surely she also wanted the total package. Love, marriage, and children. He hoped she would find someone special in her mother’s village. A man who would let her tend the ill and injured as well as their children. How she would do both he did not know, but if there was a way, Elena would find it. Of that, he had no doubt.

As the day wore on, they saw more people on the road. A village must be ahead. They gained a few curious looks, but generally the other travelers walked on by. When the small town came into view, Thomas was relieved to see that it sported a water fountain in the middle of the square. They could water the donkey and refill their water canteens. He didn’t think he would ever get used to this heat.

Elena pointed. “We should rest over by the large tree. I will go to the inn and see if we can get some food.”

Thomas stopped her. “I’ll go. It will be safer.”

Shaking her head, she said, “I will not be accosted in an inn, Tomas.”

“You can’t know that. How many times have you been in one?”

“I went with my father, once. There had been a fight, and both men had slashed each other with their swords.”

“My point exactly,” he said. “A building full of men is not safe.”

She crossed her arms over her chest as if she were settling in for the oncoming argument.

“Or we go in together,” he suggested to avoid her temper.