“I know you bought him that scientific journal and he resented the way it made him look to the rest of the world.”

He walked over to the bench on the edge of the sidewalk, bracing his hands against the back of it. She didn’t understand. Someone like her probably never could, but he had to try. His anger drained away, and he spoke without heat.

“My dad died before I can remember, so we were always poor,” he said. “When we lived in Ireland, all my clothes came out of the charity bin. I hated going to school, because other kids knew I was wearing their castoffs. The taunting got so bad that I’d walk a couple of miles to a neighboring village and rummage through their poor bin, because there might be a shirt or a pair of shoes with a little more life, and then the kids at school wouldn’t know where they came from. That isn’t something a man forgets. I won’t ever be reduced to begging again.”

Gwen looked stricken. “But I think only the best of you! Your generosity, your bravery. Patrick, I love you.”

He looked away, unable to say the words in return. As much as he cared for her, they were going too fast. He’d underestimated the chasm dividing their worlds. Everything had been easy when they were alone on a fire escape, but in the real world, there were daily reminders of how far beneath her he was.

“I think the world of you, Gwen,” he stammered, hating to see the hope fade from her face. She was trying so hard to be brave, but the hurt was impossible to miss.

“What’s changed?” she asked. “I’m the same person I’ve always been.”

“Your family won’t accept a man like me.”

She shook her head. “They’re good people. Some are a little snobby, but that’s true in any family, isn’t it? Don’t let my bad experience with Jasper mean we can’t have a future. Please don’t abandon me. I need you. Liam needs you.”

“I’m not going to bail out, Gwen. I’ll go to the island and help Liam as best I can.” But he didn’t know if he had a future with her after that, and it hurt.

He grabbed her shoulders and kissed her on the mouth, long and deep. She was everything that was good and pure and optimistic. His kiss was full of desperation, but he forced himself to withdraw.

“I adore you, but I don’t know if we can weather the storm ahead of us.”

“Whatever happens, we’ll face it together, Patrick.” She reached up to embrace him, and he returned it, holding her tightly and wishing he could believe her. Over her shoulder, he saw a Help Wanted sign in the millinery shop window, carrying the familiar phrase No Irish Need Apply.