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I lingered in the kitchen until they were finished and then I went out and quickly finished clearing the table.

"You jist go off and visit with yer brother," Mrs. Chester said. "I can finish 'ere."

"But..."

"Don't work your gob. Just go on before I change me mind," she ordered.

I thanked her and left with Roy, returning to my room. "We can go for a nice walk," I said. "Let me just wash up and fix my hair."

He waited and then we left and strolled toward Kensington. I told him more about my real father, about the school, my acting classes, the performance at the showcase, life with the Endfields, but not about the incident with Great--uncle Richard. I didn't want him to get upset and maybe furious about it. There was no telling what Roy would do if he learned about the cottage and what had gone on there. I didn't even mention Mary Margaret. Instead, I told him about things I found strange and amusing in London. I babbled on and on and he walked with his head down or gazed at me with a soft smile on his face. Finally, we stopped at a bench and I gasped.

"I've talked your ear off without letting you get hardly a word in about yourself, I know," I said, "but it's so good to have someone who'll listen to me, someone I can trust."

"I'm glad you still feel that way about me, Rain."

"Of course I do. Why shouldn't I?"

"I was afraid I might have scared you off," he admitted.

We were both quiet for a long moment, just sitting there watching people pass and hearing someone playing a flute way off to our right. It sounded so melancholy my thoughts just naturally went to Mama. I just knew Roy was thinking of Mama, too. It was as if we could read each other's thoughts. Maybe that came from being so close, from living the lives of a brother and sister despite the different blood in our veins.

"She'd be surprised if she could see us both now, I bet," he simply blurted.

"Yes, she would, and I think happy, too, Roy. I hope so anyway."

"Seems a person like Mama should have happiness before she dies and not afterward though." "Yes," I said.

He turned to me and reached for my hand.

"We should be happy, Rain. We can be. Time's gone by and we've been far apart, living different lives. Maybe you can think of me as someone different now, huh?"

I shook my head.

"Every time I think of you, Roy, I think about us back in D.C., about you holding my hand and taking me for walks and protecting me like an older brother. Maybe it was a sick joke pulled on us, but that's how we were brought up. It's not easy to erase those memories, those feelings, andYeplace them with something so different."

He stared, his eyes suddenly suspicious.

"Do you have a boyfriend here?" he asked.

"No," I said quickly.

"But you did meet someone, didn't you?" he asked.

"I thought so, but he's not what I expected him to be and maybe it's too soon for me anyway. I don't want to give my heart away easily, Roy. I don't want to make a mistake. If people were as extra careful about their love affairs as they are about their money or some of their other possessions, there would be less heartache in this world."

"I don't need to think to know how I feel about you, Rain, and why we're good together and why we would last forever and ever," he said.

I smiled at him and nodded.

"I know, Roy. I appreciate that."

"Think you'll ever feel the same about me?"

"I don't know. I don't know what I'll feel like tomorrow, much less in the future," I said.

He pressed his lips together and took a deep breath.

"I guess I should take you back. It's late and it's getting a little chilly," he said. I could see the disappointment darkening his eyes. Why couldn't I make his dreams come true?