by Bree Wolf
Indeed, he’d come a long way in the past few hours.
Shaking his head, Ainsworth scoffed. “I will not burden my sister with your self-serving regret. She’s been through enough, and I will not taint her happiness with your desire for redemption. I’m afraid you must find another way to assuage your guilt.”
“Kara has a right to know.”
Wheeling around, Ainsworth stared at his wife. His throat worked, and the muscles in his jaw twitched. “She’s my sister.”
“Mine as well,” his wife replied, a gentle smile on her lips as she approached him; still, her green eyes were unyielding as steel.
“It is my duty to protect her,” Ainsworth insisted. “My right.”
Fascinated, Nathan watched as husband and wife faced one another. They stood as equals, both strong-willed and determined, both fuelled by their love for another. There was respect between them and love and, in that moment, Nathan almost turned green with envy.
They had the life he’d always dreamed of.
“Indeed, it is your right to protect her,” Lady Ainsworth agreed; still, Nathan doubted she’d simply decided to give in. “However, it is not your right to make decisions that are hers and hers alone. She’s not a child. She’s a grown woman, and she’s stronger than you give her credit for.”
Ainsworth’s jaw tightened and, below that grim exterior of his, Nathan glimpsed a very vulnerable heart. He loved his sister dearly and feared to see her hurt yet again.
Thinking of Olivia, Nathan knew that he’d have done the same. She was not his little sister, never had been. She’d always been capable and protective of him; but she was family, she was his sister and he loved her.
After a long while, Ainsworth exhaled a long sigh, gritting his teeth in a most painful way that Nathan felt certain his jaw would snap in two. Still, his lips remained sealed as his wife turned from him with a gentle smile.
Lady Ainsworth’s green gaze found Nathan once more and, without thought, he stood up straighter. “I can see that something in your life has changed,” she told him as her gaze swept over his face, “and I believe that at least right now your words are sincere. For that reason alone, I shall pass on your apology to my sister-in-law and allow her to decide on her own whether or not she wishes to respond to your visit here today. However,” her voice grew ice-cold and she regarded him with a dangerous gleam in her eyes, “should you prove false,” her brows rose in emphasis, “my husband will be the least of your problems. Is that clear?”
Behind her, Lord Ainsworth crossed his arms over his chest, a proud smile on his face as he regarded his wife. “I’d heed her words if I were you.”
Nathan nodded. “Thank you for allowing me to speak to you today and,” he sighed, then returned his gaze to Lady Ainsworth, “for offering to pass on my apology. You’re right, my lady. Something has changed in my life, and it made me realise that this is not who I want to be. Yes, it is a selfish notion, but I do hope that it’ll make me a better person. Please know that there are no words to express the gratitude I feel for the kindness you’ve so undeservedly bestowed upon me today. I shall never forget it.” He bowed to her, then inclined his head to her husband and took his leave.
Stepping out onto the pavement, Nathan felt a heavy weight lifted off him. His heart felt somehow lighter, less burdened, and he realised in that moment what Blair had meant by her simple words. Offering an apology was not about having it accepted, but about realising that one truly did regret one’s actions. It was a first step to changing one’s ways. It felt powerful and, for the first time in years, Nathan did not feel like a man drowning, clinging to a piece of driftwood, being tossed mercilessly about the sea. No, he felt in control of his own life. He would choose his next step. He would choose the path he wanted to walk. It was up to him and no one else.
Indeed, it was his life…and he was taking it back.
Chapter Twenty-Two
A Stranger
Collin Brewer, aged nine, thought of himself as a fairly decent big brother. After all, he’d spent the morning playing dolls with his little sister Claire, who at five years of age had become quite bossy in Collin’s humble opinion. At the same time, he’d done his best to also entertain the two-year-old twins Collette and Clifford as well as his little cousin Odelia with funny faces and the occasional piggy back ride. He’d been patient and kind and watchful, everything a big brother ought to be according to his parents.
Still, now as noon drew near, Collin had enough. There was only so much child’s play a young man could endure. And so Collin bid his little siblings and cousin farewell, waved to his parents and then hurried down the stairs in search of his Uncle Derek.
While his parents too often than not still looked at him as a child, his Uncle Derek had taken to treating his nephew in a more appropriate manner−in Collin’s humble opinion. Never was he too busy to speak to Collin about his time as a soldier in the war and, while Collin was fairly certain that his uncle chose his words wisely, he appreciated the honesty that always rang in every telling of honour and camaraderie, battle practises and death.
Crossing the foyer, Collin looked around as the echo of muffled voices drifted to his ears. They were coming from the direction of the drawing room and, as Collin drew near, he noticed that the door had not fallen shut.
Quietly, he inched closer.
Aunt Maddie’s voice reached his ears in that moment and Collin froze in his tracks. “This is not about us, Derek.” The tone in her voice changed, grew harder. “Is it? You’ve come for your son, haven’t you?”
Although Collin knew it was wrong to listen outside closed doors−truth be told, this door wasn’t completely closed, now was it?−he could not resist the temptation of inching closer still. Adults spoke differently when children were nowhere around, and he couldn’t help but be curious.
“Get out!” Uncle Derek growled in that moment, and Collin flinched at the threatening tone in his voice. Never in his life had he heard his kind and patient uncle speak to another in such a manner. “Or I will end you here and now.”
Collin’s breath lodged in his throat for he could tell that his uncle meant every word. This was a side of him Collin had only ever imagined when he’d thought of him in the war, facing the enemy.
“I assure you I only came to apologise,” an unknown man replied. His voice sounded unfamiliar to Collin, and he wished he could have spied him through the thin gap between door and frame. Unfortunately, luck would not have it so. “I do not expect your forgiveness and neither do I intend to lay any claim to…to your nephew.” Collin’s breath lodged in his throat. “I only mean to express my gratitude to you for doing right by him when I didn’t.”
Uncle Derek’s nephew?
Collin’s mind raced. Uncle Derek had two nephews: Collin himself as well as his little brother Clifford, who’d just turned two. Which one of them was this man spea−?
“You have been an uncaring and self-serving man all your life,” Uncle Derek replied in that tone of voice that made Collin’s skin crawl, “and I will not allow you to interfere in Collin’s life.”
Collin’s heart slammed to a halt, and he grasped the door frame for support. Him! They were speaking about him! What did this man want with him? Surely, Uncle Derek would not allow−
“You may have fathered the boy, Lord Townsend, but you are not his father, is that clear? You−”
Collin heard no more than that for his uncle’s words sent him tumbling backwards in shock. He could barely keep his feet under him, his hands braced against the walls for balance as tears shot to his eyes.
Somewhere deep down, a frightened, little voice cried out in pain, No!
Collin could barely grasp a clear thought as he staggered out into the foyer; still, what he knew to be true in that moment was that his father was not his father…and his world came crashing down around him.
His life had been a lie. His family was not his family. They’d lied to him. They’d lied to him all his life. An
d now this stranger had come. What did he want?
Panic gripped Collin, and he felt the blind need to get away. To find some place safe.
Pulling open the front door, he paused momentarily, remembering that he was not supposed to leave the house on his own. Never had he disobeyed his family, but his family had lied to him.
He owed them nothing.
And so Collin left the house without anyone the wiser and darted down the street.
Away.
He needed to get away.
Chapter Twenty-Three
An Encounter in Hyde Park
Upon leaving her brother’s study, all Maggie wanted was to lie down. Her limbs felt heavy, her head throbbed and she felt utterly exhausted in body and mind. Blair, however, had other plans.
“To the park?” Maggie asked with a frown, looking from her brightly smiling daughter to her sour-faced son. “But ‘tis almost noon. Are ye not hungry?”
Blair’s smile brightened further. “I asked Cook to pack us a picnic.” She pointed to a small basket in the corner by the door. “‘Tis such a nice day out, and I think ‘twill do us good.”
While Maggie could not deny that her daughter had a point, there was something in the girl’s eyes that made her think that Blair had an ulterior motive. “Very well,” she agreed somewhat reluctantly; still, after everything her children had had to endure today, they deserved a little time out in the sun.
Her eyes shifted to her son. “Are ye all right, Niall?” She reached out a hand to brush through his thick auburn curls, but he pulled away, the same accusing look in his green eyes as before.
“Dunna be mean,” Blair chided her brother as she reached for his arm and then pulled him toward the door. “I know that ye’re hurting, but ‘tis not Mother’s fault.”
Grumbling something unintelligible under his breath, Niall followed his sister’s lead and they all dressed for a short outing in the park. Indeed, the warm sun felt heavenly and Maggie sighed in utter relief as a soft breeze brushed over her heated skin like a soothing caress, chasing away the aches that still lingered. While Blair was soon laughing without restraint as she skipped down the pavement, Niall seemed determined to hold on to his anger. Unfortunately for him, though, his sister’s joy was rather intoxicating and so by the time they reached the gates of Hyde Park, he too appeared more and more like the cheerful boy Maggie knew him to be.
Watching her children race each other down the lane, Maggie decided to not think about Nathan or Ian or the heartbreak that no doubt lay in her future and simply enjoy the moment. “What about over here?” she asked a bit later, pointing to a nice, green spot in the shade of a large tree. “To me, it looks like the perfect place to eat, do ye not agree?”
“‘Tis a good spot for sure,” Blair replied, praising Maggie’s efforts as though their roles had been reversed and she was the mother encouraging her daughter. “But I think we’ll find a better one a little farther up ahead.”
Maggie nodded and followed her children, the handle of the picnic basket slung around her arm. Still, the look in her daughter’s eyes when she had spoken had once again given her pause.
Something was up! Maggie was certain of it.
After another half hour, Blair had finally found the perfect spot not far from the waters of the Serpentine. And so with their bellies rumbling, they spread out the blanket and began unpacking the basket Cook had prepared for them.
“I dunna see why we had to walk this far,” Niall grumbled under his breath with a sideways glance at his sister. “This spot is no better than the one Mother chose.” He pointed to the large tree, casting a welcome shadow over their blanket.
Maggie gave her son a warm smile, but he turned away, ignoring her yet again.
Blair merely shrugged, but her eyes moved over their surroundings as though she was looking for something.
Settling onto the blanket beside her children, Maggie let her gaze sweep over the other families who’d decided to visit Hyde Park that day. Many blankets had been spread on the green lawns, and plenty of cheerful voices echoed through the air mingling with the soft bird calls drifting down from higher up in the trees. The air smelled fresh of water and flowers in full bloom, and a deep longing for the Scottish hills tugged on her heart in that moment.
“We’ll never be able to eat all this,” Maggie remarked with a bit of a forced smile as she surveyed the many fruits and pastries, the cheese and bread Cook had prepared for them. “If we try, we’ll be sick.”
Niall’s lips twitched, but he managed to prevent a full smile. Then he reached for an apple-filled pastry and turned away to watch a group of children tossing a ball around.
For a long while, they ate in silence. Still, Maggie took note of the subtle way Blair kept surveying the area around them. She still seemed to be looking for something. “Are ye all right?”
Blair nodded, but her gaze remained near the bank of the Serpentine where a lone boy sat throwing pebbles into the water. His face looked taut, and the way he hurled the pebbles reminded Maggie of Niall. The boy, too, seemed angry.
“Perhaps he’d like a pastry,” Blair remarked before she turned to look at her mother. “He looks hungry.” Then she jumped to her feet and was halfway down the small slope toward the water before Maggie could even form a reply.
Watching Blair, Maggie shook her head, now absolutely certain that the reason they’d come here today at this hour to this very spot was the young boy by the water. But who was he? And why had Blair felt compelled to seek him out?
Popping another grape into her mouth, Maggie watched as Blair approached the boy. He seemed startled by her address as though he’d been lost in thought. His gaze remained cautious, but Blair had a way of putting even the most distrustful people at ease. Soon, she took his hand and he allowed her to lead him back to their blanket.
“Mother, this is Collin,” Blair introduced him as though it was the most ordinary thing to invite strangers into their midst. “I told him we had too much food to eat it all on our own and we could use his help.”
Collin’s stomach rumbled loudly in that moment, and the boy’s pale cheeks turned a darker shade of red. He looked to be about Niall’s age with dark blond hair and deep blue eyes that looked cautiously up at Maggie. “Hello,” he croaked, a bit uncertain about what he’d allowed himself to be persuaded to do.
“Welcome, Collin.” Maggie smiled at him warmly. “Please, help yerself. Ye’d be doing us a great favour. The more ye eat, the lighter the basket will be on the way back.” She cast a look at her daughter and found Blair nodding in approval.
Whatever her daughter was up to, it seemed everything was going according to plan.
With her belly filled, Maggie stretched out on the blanket and closed her eyes. For one, she was exhausted and, for another, she couldn’t help but think that Collin would feel more at ease if she’d pretend to be asleep. After all, there was clearly some problem that Blair had been called upon to solve. Had she seen Collin in a dream? Had the boy run away from home? Or had he been separated from his family as they’d made their way through the park?
Still, he didn’t seem frightened, but deeply saddened, heart-broken even, and yet, angry at the same time. He reminded her of Niall. Had Blair brought them all together here in order to help the two boys? Maggie wouldn’t put it past her daughter; after all, Blair’s compassion knew no bounds.
“Where is yer family?” Blair asked without preamble; still, her tone held no reproach.
Collin remained quiet.
“Did ye run away?” Blair continued her gentle interrogation.
Maggie heard Niall shift. “Ye ran away from home?” he exclaimed, his attention moving from the group of children to the boy in their midst. “What happened?”
Maggie forced herself not to stir in the slightest as they all waited for Collin to respond.
But he didn’t.
“Where will ye go?” Niall asked, and the depth of curiosity in his voice caused the little hairs on
the back of Maggie’s neck to rise. Was he contemplating a similar course of action?
“I don’t know,” Collin mumbled around a mouthful of food. He sounded defeated, heartbreakingly alone in the world. Where on earth were his parents? And what had happened to send him out into the world all on his own?
“Yer parents will worry about ye,” Blair pointed out gently.
“Then they shouldn’t have lied!” Collin snapped, anger ringing in his voice, masking the sadness and pain underneath.
Niall shifted again, moving closer to the other two. “What did they lie about?” he asked, and Maggie could hear the depth of his empathy.
Collin remained quiet.
“Our parents lied to us as well,” Blair admitted in that soft voice of hers that held neither reproach nor blame.
“Mother did!” Niall instantly corrected her and then paused that Maggie could imagine him casting a careful glance in her direction. “Father never lied,” he went on in a more hushed voice.
“They both lied,” Blair insisted. “Or at least, they both pretended. They lied to themselves more than they lied to us.” Wiser words had never been spoken, and Maggie closed her eyes a little tighter against the tears that began to prick the backs of her eyes. Would they never cease troubling her?
“What did your parents lie about?” Collin asked, his anger now tinged with curiosity.
Niall scoffed. “Our mother never loved our father, and it made him miserable…and angry.” His voice grew quieter, and Maggie could tell how deeply he’d been hurt by the strained relationship between his parents. “But they never said so. They always pretended all was well.” Again, he scoffed. “How could they ever think we wouldna notice?” He shifted where he sat and Maggie heard him heave a deep sigh. “What about yer parents? What did they lie about?”