by Vella, Wendy
Fleur moved away from Maddie and closer to the older woman. She then stared at her.
“Your bird is pretty, Harry’s Grandmere.”
“Oui. I found it in a little store right here in London. I’m glad you like it.”
Harry’s eyes met Maddie’s as Mrs. Paquet undid the bird and handed it to Fleur.
“There was another in the shop. I shall purchase it, and then we will match each other.”
“No, really, she does not need such generosity.” Maddie tried to refuse. Fleur however, had clasped it to her chest and moved to the side of the chair Heloise Paquet sat in.
“It is a gift, and therefore unable to be returned, Mrs. Caron.”
“Oh, well then, thank you. Say thank you, Fleur.”
She did, with a sweet smile. One thing that had changed in her daughter since arriving in London was that she smiled a great deal and used it to effect when required.
“Such a sweet child.” Mrs. Paquet patted her cheek.
“And knows how to be so when required,” Harry drawled.
“You are a nice grandmother,” Fleur said. “Not like my one.”
Maddie felt the tightness in her chest again. She’d hoped her daughter had not suffered overly and would forget what had happened. It seemed her hopes had been in vain, and she hated that she had subjected her child to the venom she’d received as a child.
“Well then, you may call me Grandmere, Fleur, and you will forget about the other one.”
“Thank you, Grandmere.” Fleur looked happy. She then proceeded to tell Heloise Paquet all about her new family.
“Maddie?”
She turned as Harry called softly to her.
“Are you all right?”
“Of course.”
“You look worried.”
“No, I am fine.” Maddie could and had handled most things that life had thrown her way, but her mother had never been one of them.
“The color has left your cheeks.”
“It has not.”
“It has, and before your daughter mentioned her grandmother, you were fine.”
She didn’t reply, just focused on her daughter, who was having a lively conversation with Harry’s grandmother.
“Where is home to you, Maddie, if not four walls?”
“You answer first.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever really wanted or had one.” He did not seem overly worried about what he’d just said, but his words made Maddie sad. Perhaps he was good at hiding what he really felt?
“Everyone wants a home, Harry.”
“What is a home to you?” Those green eyes were alive with color as he looked at her.
“Somewhere to belong, where you’re safe.”
“Grandson, I asked you a question!” Heloise thumped her cane. “What is being done about catching the man who hurt you?”
“He will be caught, Grandmère. There is no doubting that, as I will ensure it is done.”
“Good. No one shoots my grandson and walks away.”
“Exactly my thoughts.”
The familiarity between them was real, as was the love, and it softened his face.
She felt the longing then. The need to be special to someone for herself. Not as a sister, or mother, but to be loved with passion.
Dear Lord, where had that come from? The thought had her getting to her feet.
“Excuse me, I need to do something. It is nice to meet you, Mrs. Paquet, and thank you for Fleur’s brooch. Come.” She held out her hand, and Fleur reluctantly took it.
Harry was watching her; Maddie could feel his eyes. She didn’t look his way as she bobbed another curtsey and left the room, and this time she would keep her distance from him, because if a simple kiss had made thoughts of passion and love enter her head, heaven help her if he did so again.
Chapter 16
They all came, as Harry had known they would. The first to arrive was Dev, the head of the family.
“Mrs. Paquet, how wonderful to see you again.” He wandered in as if this was his house, which Harry had noted they all seemed to do. Family members living in each other’s pockets. The thought should horrify him. He was a man who’d lived a solo life and had never needed anyone, and these people seemed unable to do a solitary thing without first checking with someone.
“Lord Sinclair.” His grandmother held out her hand like a princess, and Dev dutifully bowed over it.
Next came Cam, and Harry wondered if they were coming in order. Oldest to youngest.
“Ah, Mrs. Paquet, how wonderful it is to see you again. As you see, your grandson is receiving excellent care from us, his other family.”
By the time Warwick, the youngest Sinclair sibling arrived, Harry had a fair understanding of just what it was they were doing. Staging a show for his grandmother, to ensure she realized that Harry was one of them, and only he as yet had not understood that fact.
“We would be more than happy to show you the sights of London, Mrs. Paquet,” Eden said to his grandmother, who was reveling in all the attention.
Preening, actually, if he had to put a word to her behavior.
“In fact, we would love to take you to see James’s castle too, should you be here long enough.”
The parlor he’d sat in with Maddie and Fleur was not overly large, so Harry, his grandmother, and the seven Sinclair siblings, plus Wolf, who had just arrived, were quite a squeeze. No one seemed overly concerned, such was their comfort in each other’s company.
Tea was replenished—and cake, which had Cam smiling.
“The castle may actually work,” Harry said to Eden, who was seated beside him now. “She’s a terrible snob.”
“Work?” Eden raised an elegantly arched brow.
“You’re all thinking you can get to me through my grandmother, Eden. I’m not a fool.”
“A man, yes, fool, often.”
“Meaning?”
“Pride gets in the way of what is best for you, as it does for the other men in our family.”
She wore rose today and looked every inch the duchess she was.
“I have no need of more family. I am here and grateful for what you have all done for me, but I will be leaving soon.”
“You will give in,” Wolf had told him yesterday. “We work as a pack and overwhelm you until you simply have to.”
Harry was made of stronger stuff, he’d told his cousin. Wolf’s reply had been to snort.
“We felt you, you know.” Warwick moved to his other side. “All of us knew you were hurt and came running.”
“Grandson, we are going to visit a place called Crunston Cliff!”
“One day, Grandmère,” Harry replied while he grappled with what Warwick had told him.
“We feel pain when another is hurting or in danger. It’s swift and fierce, depending on the degree of hurt.”
“You’re serious?” Harry said, giving himself time to understand what they were saying. They’d felt his panic.
“Absolutely. We had to find you,” Eden added. “Then when we did, we brought you here, and Essie did what she could, then Lilly healed you.”
“And that’s why you are not dead or lying in a pool of infection,” Warwick added with a calm that Harry was not feeling.
“A castle, grandson!”
“Oui, Grandmère.” He looked from Eden to Wolf.
“You leave us, and you will feel the pain but not be able to reach us,” Eden said.
“I won’t. I have not yet, so doubt I ever will.”
“But now we have a connection,” the duchess added.
Luke wandered in with Dev’s eldest son, Mathew, and James and Eden’s daughter, Isabella. The children looked immaculate, which was at odds to how they usually appeared when he saw them. This too was clearly a statement. A selection of children who could behave would be paraded before his grandmother. In Isabella’s arms was Fleur. Of Maddie there was no sign.
Harry told himself he was happy about that. Seeing her face when Fleur
mentioned her grandmother had told him that her relationship with the woman had not been a happy one.
The children smiled and allowed his grandmother to pat their cheeks, and Fleur even sat on her lap, her new brooch now pinned to her dress.
“I love Harry,” she said to his grandmother.
“Well now, so do I, so that’s nice. We will share him, as he is sharing me with you.”
He felt the family’s eyes on him as he watched the conversation between child and woman.
Harry had always known he was loved by his grandmother; his father too in some small way, but that had come wrapped up in a pile of rage connected with him leaving England disgraced. But Heloise Paquet had been a constant in his life.
He’d told himself her love was enough and hated that now something inside him was yearning for more. Yearning for what he’d never believed he could have, but had deep inside always wanted. That dark little place that he’d shut away as a child because he’d known that kind of warmth was not coming his way.
Family.
Harry schooled his features. He wouldn’t be taking what these people offered. He couldn’t for so many reasons, and possibly none of them were logical ones, but they were what he’d lived his life by. Besides, his life was in France.
Finally, after they’d talked, taken tea, and behaved like polite, well-mannered society folk, which they absolutely were not as far as Harry could see, they left. Kissing his grandmother as they did so, and begging her to return.
“She’ll see through you all,” he muttered to Dev. His cousin’s smile flashed all his teeth, but he left without speaking again.
“Grandson, you must keep these people, they are good ones.” The door had just closed when she spoke.
“They are not pets, Grandmère.”
“Do not be glib with me!”
“Apologies, but I have no wish to make connections with these people.”
“And yet you are, as you are here, with them. They are the ones who helped you when you needed it. They did because you are of their blood.”
He didn’t add anything to that, as every word was the truth, and he could dispute none of it.
“Family is important!” She stomped her cane on the floor.
“Yes, and I have you.”
“But you do not have a castle.” She glared at him.
“And that is important to you?”
Her smile was small, but he knew the signs a lecture was coming. “Open your heart, Harry. They love you. Why is it you choose to fight this?”
Why indeed?
“My life is in France, and Papa had no wish for me to associate with his family.”
“You father was a bitter man. Do not live your life as he did.”
“Grandmère—”
“I am leaving now and wish to speak of it no more. You will do what is right.”
She hugged him, which was a shock. They loved each other but were not terribly demonstrative. Then she left, leaving the strong scent she chose to bathe in in every corner of the room.
“You need to go back to bed now, Harry.” Essie had returned. “You are not healed, and rest will aid in that.”
He did as she said because he wanted to, and yes, he was tired, but he’d admit that to no one but himself. He took the medicine she gave him when he was settled, because she was surprisingly fierce when required.
“Now sleep. That too will help you heal,” Essie said, pulling up his covers. She kissed his forehead before leaving, as she always did, as all the women did, and he hated how much he loved that too.
Harry needed to leave this place and return to the man he was. He was betraying his father by being here. There was also the fact that the longer he stayed, the harder it would be to leave. He could feel himself changing. Exposure to all this love and kinship was wearing him down. And then there was Maddie and Fleur.
He’d kissed her, and he could never regret that, no matter that he was a fool for doing so. He felt his eyes close and welcomed the oblivion of sleep. Freedom from his disturbing thoughts, if only briefly, would be a good thing.
“My life is in France,” Harry murmured as the waves of exhaustion pulled him under. That is where I am returning to.
Chapter 17
Another four days passed, and still he made no plans to leave.
Essie had told him that to leave before he was ready was folly and would likely prolong his recovery. Usually Harry would not have listened, but for some reason, he did.
His ship would be fine, Faris would ensure that, but he was seriously concerned for his ability to leave if he didn’t do so soon.
This was a house filled with love and family. Family that he had blood ties to but was torn about accepting.
They’d all come to visit him, and often. He’d tried to pretend he was sleeping; they’d simply waited for him to open his eyes. They played word games with him, read him stories, and gave him their time, and it was humbling and disturbing in equal measures.
Yesterday he’d played whist with Wolf and Eden; the latter, it turned out, was a cheat, but would sell her firstborn before admitting that fact. He’d laughed, and Harry was not a big laugher. He’d then had the twins, Samantha, and Warwick visit, and they’d discussed their investigative service with him. He’d questioned them, because he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the concept, not that it was anything to do with him, but still… they were his cousins.
“Another question, please, Harry, and try harder, if you please.”
“I shall try harder, Isabella.”
At the moment he was throwing questions at Isabella, Luke, Hannah, and Mathew. All were sitting on his bed, legs crossed, waiting for his next question. So far, they’d answered every one correctly.
“What is a Binnacle List? And where on a ship is it kept?”
“That’s two questions, Harry.” Hannah sucked her bottom lip in as she thought about his words.
“Well, if it’s too hard…”
“It’s not,” Luke said. They then leaned in, heads together, and started coming up with ideas.
“Do you need a clue?”
“No!”
“Don’t feel bad, it is a tough one,” Harry needled them.
He was even starting to talk like the others, Cam and Dev. They always teased and challenged their children.
“It’s something to do with a ship,” Hannah said, frowning.
“One point only for that,” Harry said.
One by one, they climbed off the bed.
“Where are you going?”
“To the library. We’ll be back with the answer soon,” Mathew said.
Harry settled down to wait for Fleur, who should be arriving soon. Maddie’s sweet little daughter insisted on visiting him every day for a story and her nap.
Maddie came too. They’d formed a truce, and he had to say he enjoyed her company. She was happy here, and that had brought out the woman she should have always been, to Harry’s mind. She smiled freely and snuffled her soft laugh often now. Hers was a gentle nature that, if he had to guess, through necessity had been hardened.
Harry knew hers had been a difficult life, but he’d not asked anyone for the details, as it was likely they would not give them to him. Plus, that would signal his interest in her, which he could not allow. Because in this case, a Raven would not be marrying a Sinclair.
When she came, Maddie sat and watched him read and mouthed the words and letters he taught her. Having her that close was both torture and pleasure.
She had a scent about her that seemed to linger in the air long after she’d left.
True to his word, he’d not kissed her again. The hell of it was, he wanted to… desperately. There was an innocence about the woman that had touched him. He felt the need to protect and ravish her at the same time.
The Caron women were slipping into his heart, and that was no good for anyone.
He needed to leave here now. He was strong enough, and had told Faris when he visited him two days
ago that he would be back on the Charlotte Anne by the end of the week.
“How are you feeling?” Cam’s head appeared around the door.
“Better, thank you.”
“Excellent. We are all going to the park for a picnic. I thought I’d visit before we leave.”
“You need not check on me.” His words had come out curt.
“And yet, that is what family does.” One thing Harry had noticed about Cambridge Sinclair was that it was not easy to offend the man. “I brought you the latest copy of The Trumpeter.”
“Did you call it that?” He took the paper as it was held out to him.
Cam sighed. “No, and Em and I considered changing it, but there was quite a protest from the regulars who read it, so we’re stuck with it, I’m afraid.”
“It’s an odd name, but I guess it’s better than the bugler.”
Cam snorted. “There is that. Now, I need to ask you about this man who shot you, Harry. I’ve been elected, as apparently I have a way with words, and Essie tells me you are strong enough to have this conversation.”
“Elected?”
“We do that when there’s a particularly sensitive subject that needs broaching.” Cam fell into the chair beside Harry’s bed. “We usually riddle for it.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“It’s a game we play with words. Take the words cherry cake, for example.”
“Please do.”
“Cherry has six letters.”
“Your counting is excellent.”
“You must make up a sentence using the letters in the word. For example, Cam had edifyingly round roulades yesterday.”
“That made no sense.”
“Roulades are round,” Cam protested.
“Edifying is providing moral or intellectual instruction or used to express disapproval, as in, it is not edifying to watch someone make a fool of themselves,” Harry pointed out and wondered why he was bothering. This entire conversation was ridiculous, and yet, he was enjoying it.
“I didn’t give that sentence a great deal of thought as it was just an example.”
“Not a very good one,” Harry needled his cousin.