She nodded once, keeping her eyes on him. “More than you know.”
He stared at her for a long moment, then softly asked, “Will you come on Monday?”
“Same time and place?”
He nodded.
“Then I will be here.”
She thought he might have smiled, but he only nodded again, then turned and walked across the bridge, casting a very quick half look over his shoulder at her.
She released a heavy sigh when he was gone and took a moment to collect herself. She needed to be stronger, to steel herself against him. She ought not to have agreed, but she needed the help so desperately. And she wanted to see him again, despite his bewildering mood shifts and unspoken accusations.
But she needed to mind herself, or she would begin to hope.
Someone was crying.
Or, rather, someone was most desperately trying not to cry and was failing miserably.
Colin groaned as he heard the noise in his study and set his work aside. He was hardly going to accomplish anything while someone was so distressed. It was far too early for such feminine emotions. It was probably a maid, they tended to be overly emotional when they thought no one was about.
Or it could have been Bitty, he reconsidered. That made him push out of his seat. If Rosie had been teasing her again, at this hour of the day, he was going to have to turn strict disciplinarian sooner than he thought. Or, more likely, he would make Kit do it. Kit could be the mean one.
He searched for the sound, a bit muffled now, and room by room his confusion grew. Where in the world was it coming from? It was too old a person to be Ginny, and she did not hide her cries. She wailed them for all to see and hear. And he was beginning to doubt Bitty as well, for she would seek out comfort when it was needed.
That left him with either a maid who would need to be sent down to Mrs. Porter for a cup of tea, or…
He stopped when he reached the doors to the ballroom. There, sitting under the end table between the two sets of doors, was the crying person.
Rosie.
She had her face buried in her knees, arms encircling them, her dark curls spilling over them like a blanket. Her little girl frame shook with her cries and she was trying her hardest to make as little noise as possible. Poor thing had no idea that in this part house, all noise carried elsewhere.
He approached slowly and sank onto his haunches before her. “Rosie?”
His sister jerked up, eyes wide, cheeks streaked with tears, and her lips quivering.
It was the saddest sight he had ever seen.
He smiled softly at her. “What’s wrong, poppet?”
She sniffled and ran a sleeve under her nose, which amused him. “Nothing,” she said moodily, swiping at her cheeks.
“Doesn’t look like nothing,” he quipped with a bit of a smile. “You look quite distressed.”
Her stubborn chin lifted and she was no doubt building up quite the retort, but then it crumpled and her lips quivered again. “I got lost again,” she whispered in broken tones.
Was that all? He sighed softly and squeezed her arm. “That’s all right, it is a rather large house for just us, and I did not give you a very good tour of it. I’m not a very good host.”
“No, you’re dreadful at it,” she replied instantly, though there was no force behind her words.
He smiled softly. “What were you trying to find?”
“The library.”
That surprised him. Rosie was such an active, mischievous girl, he would not think the solemnity or solitude of the library would suit her. “You like to read?”
She nodded, sniffling once more. “Mama used to read to me after the girls were asleep.” Her jaw trembled and more tears began to roll down her cheeks. “I miss my mother.”
He had to swallow his own lump at that and he tugged his little sister out from the table. “Come here,” he urged, relieved at her complete lack of resistance. He pulled her against him and tucked her under his chin. She shuddered against him and still tried to keep from crying, even as her little arms latched onto him.
“You can cry, Rosie,” he murmured, kissing her head. “I won’t tell a soul.”
It was as if a dam broke in his strong and willful sister. She cried against him, soaking his shirt with her tears, and he could not have cared less about it. He simply held her close, occasionally stroked her hair, and carried her into the library so that her cries would not carry. He settled them into a chair, soothing her with whatever words came to mind.
When she was at last calmer, Rosie began to talk about her mother, about her memories, about what life was like before they had come here. While the other girls had forgotten, Rosie recollected everything. She watched her mother wither away into nothing, watched over her sisters, and wondered when or if Loughton would ever come for them.
He never did.
“I didn’t care,” Rosie said now with a shrug, her tears gone. “He had never been a father to us before, so why should he now? But someone would need to tend us, I couldn’t raise Bitty and Ginny, and then that man came for us…”
Colin frowned and cursed Loughton silently. Leaving his daughters alone and only sending a man of business to pack them up and move them to London? It was unimaginable, and yet it had happened.
Rosie sighed and rubbed at her eyes. “You can’t tell Bitty about this. I’m the older sister, I have to be strong and make sure she doesn’t miss Mama or home either.”
“I won’t tell Bitty,” he assured her, meeting her eyes. “But I will tell Kit. You understand why.”
She nodded once. “I know. You are our brothers and you must take care of us, but…” She shrugged and gave him a sad half-smile. “It is very strange.”
He laughed and hugged her quickly. “‘Course it is, Rosie. We’re Gerrards.”
She snickered and pushed back with a smile. “Can you show me the books?”
He nodded and scooted her off of his lap. “Absolutely, assuming I know anything about them. I can barely read myself.”
“Well, that figures.”
They scanned the shelves and he started a pile for her based on her suggestions and insistence. She became quite animated as they did so, and he was entertained by her antics as she gave him abbreviated accounts of stories he pretended not to know. She had quite the memory for details, strong opinions on how things should have gone in the story, a vivid imagination, and an understanding of characters and themes that was rather impressive for anyone, let alone a girl of nine.
He decided that when she was older, she would either become a scholar, an author herself, or a spy for the Crown.
They sat down to begin looking through the books together when a commotion was heard from the front of the house. He heard Bartlet’s staid tones greeting someone, servants shuffling about in their duties, and a few distinct voices echoing their way to his ears. Then, without warning, his name was called with no respect for any others in the house.
He grinned in relief and delight.
His friends had arrived.
Chapter Seven
Oh, but you all are a sight for sore eyes!” Colin nearly gushed as he walked down the hall towards his four friends.
Duncan snorted. “You are never delighted to see us, Colin, so either you are terribly bored or things are far worse than your cryptic note said.”
Colin shrugged. “There wasn’t time for specifics, Duncan, and I know how you all love a mystery.” He sobered a bit as he looked at them all.
His four best friends, all married, starting with their families, and yet they all still came when he needed something. He’d have done the same for any of them, and had done, in some cases. They had each been in the country for the summer and he was surprised at just how much he had missed them. And how much it meant that they had come.
“Are your families well?” he asked, asking with more sincerity than he probably ever had.
Derek grinned at him. “You already know they are well, though Kate is v
ery upset you did not come for Helena’s birth.”
Colin shuddered playfully and shook his head. “Your wife cannot stand me in usual company, Derek. To visit her when she is in the utmost pain and distress? I would be dead in five minutes.”
“Well, you did not come for Lizzy either,” Nathan reminded him. “And Moira is most disappointed in you.”
He clamped a hand to his chest and staggered back. “No, not Moira! I shall have to buy her a flower.”
His friends laughed and Colin turned to the last two. “Well, what about you lot? Do Mary and Annalise want to butcher me as well?”
Geoff smiled, his eyes crinkling. “Mary sends her regards and asks after the gossip.”
“And Annalise is actually rather fond of you, for some bewildering reason,” Duncan added with a rueful grin. “I suppose she has yet to know your true character.”
Colin smiled at that. While he truly adored all of the women his friends had married, Annalise would always be of special regard to him.
“So what was so important, Colin?” Geoff asked when Colin forgot to laugh.
He cleared his throat, suddenly a bit anxious about what he was about to tell them. He had been too hesitant to tell them via letter, this was something they needed to know in person. Now they were here, he had no idea how to begin.
How could he possibly tell them how drastically his life had changed in the course of a week? How his heart was somehow expanding, his empathy beginning to flower, and his ability to hear tears so incredibly heightened? His current plans had all been uprooted, his finances needed desperate rearranging, and he was more terrified of the future than ever before.
And that was just what he had felt the first day.
“Good heavens,” breathed Geoff suddenly.
Colin looked at his friend in surprise, but saw he was not looking at Colin, but behind him. He turned to see Rosie making her way towards them hesitantly. She bit her lip and looked up at him, silently asking permission.
He winked at her and held out a hand. “Come on, then. It’s all right, these are my friends.”
She raised a brow in surprise and he gave her a mock warning look, which made her smile. She took his hand and stood beside him, smiling at the men before her by way of greeting.
Only then did Colin turn back to face them himself.
They were all staring fixedly at Rosie, eyes wide. Duncan was openly gaping, Derek had staggered back a few paces, Geoff had a hand at his chest as if he were about to have a fit, and Nathan was pale as a ghost. Very telling of each of their natures, that.
“Go on,” Colin murmured, squeezing Rosie’s hand a little. “Tell them who you are.”
Rosie, who was no doubt spending too much time with Tibby, gave the horrified quartet a most perfect, if slightly dramatic, curtsey. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Rosie.”
“Charmed, I’m sure,” Geoff replied faintly. He looked up at Colin. “If this is a joke, Colin…”
Colin shook his head. “No joke, but it is a bit funny, actually.”
“Still waiting for the funny part,” Nathan said unsteadily, running a shaking hand into his hair.
“Someone get me a drink,” Derek muttered, flagging down a sniggering maid in the hall.
“Explain,” Duncan growled, his eyes flitting between Colin and Rosie.
Colin straightened and smiled. “It’s quite simple really. Rosie should have said this, but she is my…”
There was a series of insistent knocks at the door at the same time the bell rang.
“Who could that be?” Colin wondered aloud as Bartlet moved around the group to answer it.
“You’re not this popular,” Rosie informed him, looking confused. “It’s probably for Kit.”
Geoff barked a laugh and smothered it quickly.
Colin looked down at his smart-mouthed sister with a frown. “I am far more popular than Kit, I will have you know.”
She shrugged. “So you say, but where is the proof?”
Now his friends were beginning to smile outright.
Bartlet opened the door to reveal four beautiful and very finely dressed women.
“Well, I didn’t expect that,” Rosie muttered under her breath.
“Hush,” he hissed, grinning himself now.
“Colin Gerrard, you have some serious explaining to do,” Moira, Lady Beverton, scolded loudly, her sapphire eyes flashing dangerously.
“Oh, no,” Nathan moaned, covering his eyes.
The other men echoed the sentiment as each of their wives entered the room and handed their things to the waiting servants.
“Good morning, darling,” Kate, Lady Whitlock, cooed in a rather offhand manner to her husband, patting his cheek. “Nice of you to tell us where you were going.”
“Good morning, love,” her husband dutifully replied, looking sheepish.
The women stood on one side of the hall and the men on the other, females all righteous indignation as they looked at Colin, males as uncomfortable as anything he’d ever seen.
“What’s this about?” Duncan finally asked of the women.
His wife spared a brilliant smile for him. “Colin has a secret.”
“We know,” Geoff replied, absently pulling at his ear. “That is why we are here.”
“Yes, but we know what it is,” Mary retorted smartly, her eyes still on Colin.
“Start talking now, Colin, or I will lose my considerable patience,” Kate ordered, arms folded, tapping her foot against the marble floor in agitation.
He smiled in utter relief at the women. “Thank God you’re all here.”
“What?” his friends all cried out in unison, and with good reason. He had never claimed to enjoy seeing the women before, but now he had never been more grateful in his life. Had he been less controlled, he might have actually gotten emotional.
He wanted to hug them all. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you came. I assume Tibby told you?”
Annalise nodded, smiling fondly. “I had a letter from her last week.”
“Tibby did what?” Duncan asked, no doubt feeling more than a bit surprised.
Colin ignored him. “Just a moment.” He turned and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Molly!” he yelled up the stairs. “Bring them down, would you?”
Rosie shook her head in disapproval. “Shouting like that in your own house and before company? Such poor manners.”
“That is quite enough out of you, little tart,” he tossed back at her.
She shook her head and looked up at his friends. “I can’t see why you’re all friends with him, honestly, and I haven’t known him long.”
“Honestly, neither can I, at the moment,” Nathan replied.
Molly appeared at the top of the stairs with Ginny on one side and Bitty on the other, and they obediently made their way down the stairs. No one spoke, not even Rosie, though the women did gasp softly.
“Come on, come on,” Colin encouraged with a wave as they reached the bottom. He set Bitty next to Rosie, and Ginny next to her. Then he took up position on Ginny’s other side, and looked at his friends and their wives. He opened his arms to indicate the three, looked directly at the women, and said, simply, “Help.”
“Oh, please,” Rosie said with a snort, even as Bitty giggled to herself.
“Oh, my,” Moira murmured as she took in the girls.
Colin gave a helpless smile. “These fine girls you see before you are my sisters. Surprise.”
His friends nearly fell over as evident relief washed over them. The women were wide-eyed, but smiling.
“Present yourselves,” Colin murmured, nodding at Rosie.
She stepped forward and curtseyed. “Rose Marie Elizabeth Gerrard, age nine.” Her accent, mostly gone now, rang out proudly here.
Bitty tangled her fingers and curtseyed, a bit wobbly. “Louisa Amelie Claire Gerrard. Oh, and I’m six.” She, too, displayed her accent perfectly.
Colin saw Mary cover her mouth, but it did no
thing to lessen her smile.
Ginny watched her two sisters, then looked at the people gathered, and tucked herself behind Colin, latching onto his leg and burying her face against him.
He smiled and reached behind to touch her head. “And Genevieve Sophia Anne Gerrard, age three.” He looked up and gestured to the girls in order. “Rosie, Bitty, and Ginny.”
No one spoke a word. They each looked from the girls to Colin, back to the girls, and occasionally at each other.
He quite understood.
“Who are they?” Bitty asked Colin in her best whispering tone.
He grinned and quickly made the introductions.
Ginny still kept herself tucked against him. He bent down and softly asked if she would meet his friends, but she shook her head and only clung closer.
“She’s very shy,” Bitty explained.
“That’s all right,” Mary replied, smiling at her. “I’m a bit shy as well.”
Annalise surprised Colin by coming forward and sinking down to Ginny’s level. “Pleased to meet you, Ginny,” she said softly with smile. “My name is Annie and I’m friends with your brother and with Tibby. I would very much like to be your friend as well.”
Colin looked at Ginny, but she would not move her face from his leg.
Annalise was not deterred. She smiled and reached out a hand. “Would you come and play with me, sweet? I don’t know my way around this house, and I could use a friend to help me.”
“I can help!” Bitty cried with a raised hand.
“Hush, Bitty,” Rosie hissed, watching her younger sister with interest.
Ginny turned her head and looked at the outstretched hand, then up into Annalise’s face.
“Go on, Ginny,” Colin murmured, his hand still soothing her hair. “You can do it. Don’t you want to see such a lovely person?”
Annalise looked up at him with a sardonic grin, then looked back at Ginny.
It seemed the entire room held their breath.
Ginny considered Annalise for a long moment, then detached a tiny hand from Colin’s leg and placed it into Annalise’s.
Bitty and Rosie gaped and Colin grinned, not bothering to hide the sigh of relief. Annalise closed her hand around Ginny’s and slowly led her towards the others, though Ginny looked back at Colin a great deal.
The Burdens of a Bachelor (Arrangements, Book 5) Page 8