Wolves

by W. A. Hoffman

  Finally, Whyse quieted as the service began. I looked about at the sea of black coats and saw them as people and not potential enemies and allies. Most of the men present—there were no women save my sisters—wore black, not apparently out of mourning, but because it was seemingly their habitual color of choice. There was not a lambent eye among them: they were here to pay respect, not to mourn. We listened to a bishop commend my father’s good, serious, and chaste life. I took satisfaction in knowing that no matter how badly I have lived, there would be crying at my funeral; for I was loved in all the ways my father had not been. That thought brought me to pity for my poor damned father—and Shane—and the emotions from the hour of their death welled up until I found tears.

  The men who came to shake my hand on the church steps were taut with suspicion until they met my reddened gaze, and then they—like young Beaucrest—apparently decided they had misjudged me. Then they expressed their condolences with sincerity. Thankfully, this insured that when my father’s business partners gathered at the solicitor’s house to hear the will, they were not glaring at me and muttering amongst themselves as I had feared.

  The will surprised me. It sounded as if it were truly my father’s words. It did name me as the sole heir for the estate and assets, but then it awarded a number of mourning rings and other small behests to the men gathered—and even my sisters. I was relieved.

  I was also numb with wonder. I had been given everything I had thought I would never have. I wondered what the Gods could truly give me in the future to ever surpass this birthday.

  One Hundred and Seventeen

  Wherein We See the Road Ahead

  When it was done, Whyse handled the questions of the nobles, and Theodore the businessmen, and I was free to leave. Striker, Sarah, Gaston and I thankfully accepted an invitation from Beaucrest to visit their town house for a late-afternoon meal. Once we were in my carriage, Striker’s arm went around Sarah’s shoulder companionably and my hand slipped into Gaston’s.

  “So, you’re officially the Seventh Earl of Dorshire. Now what?” Striker asked.

  “Aye,” I sighed. “Now we go to Rolland Hall and bury them; and then we move to the new house; and then…” I shrugged, wondering what we would do next.

  “Well, we go to Rolland Hall and bury them,” Striker said seriously, “then some of us go and look at ships and other things, and find a house in a port. You can sign everything over now, right?”

  I nodded and smiled, feeling a sense of loss. Our cabal would not be sailing off together to rove against the king’s court—not all of us. We now had new lives and perhaps separate roads. Gaston and I had led them atop this new plateau, and now their path separated from ours.

  “I think perhaps I should stay at Rolland Hall for a time,” Sarah said to all and then met her husband’s curious gaze. “It might be months before you sort things out with the ships and decide where we should live. I do not want to spend my confinement in a boarding house in Bristol.” She smiled to lighten her words.

  Striker looked to her belly and sighed. “Damn, I keep forgetting you’re pregnant.”

  Sarah laughed half-heartedly. “Good for you. I can’t.” She looked to me.

  I shrugged. “Use the house as long as you want. Are you sure you do not wish to stay with us until…”

  She shook her head firmly. “Agnes—and Yvette—need to establish their own household—and deal with Chris. I feel we have already had enough of one another this last year. I am sorry, Will, I am simply familiar with… having things my own way.” She smiled ruefully.

  I chuckled. “You must be captain—or queen.”

  “Aye,” Striker said emphatically, but there was sadness about his gaze as he turned to look out the window.

  I realized he was looking at Pete who was riding behind us. “Well, do not stray too far away with your choice of port.”

  Striker smiled as if he understood my entendre. “I don’t think I will.”

  Dinner at the Beaucrest house proved to be enjoyable. The dowager Lady Beaucrest proved to be a lively and endearing hostess in all the ways our self-centered sister Elizabeth was not.

  The night was cool and pleasant when we at last emerged and found our men. I had been bothered all along by Pete and Liam posing as our servants; or rather, their being considered nothing more than servants by those we encountered. But then I saw they had been enjoying themselves playing cards with the Beaucrest servants all night and I realized they would likely have a better time than we would at many of the gatherings we would be forced to attend. And then Liam began to tell us some amazing things about the Beaucrest household. After learning that our sister had not shared a bed with her young husband in over a year, I laughingly pushed Liam into the carriage to share his gossip with Sarah. Then we cajoled Pete into joining them on the grounds that he should keep Striker company. Then Gaston and I took their horses and had a pleasant ride home.

  The next morning, my matelot was up before the dawn—in more ways than one. At first I was happy with his attention yet oblivious to its cause, and then I realized we would finally travel to see the children today. He was merely getting an early start on the day’s activities, since tonight we would sleep in an inn and would very likely share a room with his father.

  Gaston made more of getting everyone rounded up and on horses and in carriages than Rachel did. I avoided both of them and went to saddle our mounts. It gave me time to talk to my London groom and ascertain that, though I did have a few fine animals here, I had as many as I recalled the stables holding at Rolland Hall. This minded me that many of them would have to be relocated to the House of Venus, and that we must assess the barn and paddock situation there.

  As we finally rode north from London at the head of a small train of carriages and riders, I began to consider all the things I wished to do and realized I would not be bored for a good time yet—especially with social and lordly duties distracting me from my pursuits. I would have a full life here. And the strange thought came upon me that it would be mine. And then the stranger thought occurred that for the first time that I could recall, I would not be always waiting for something else to happen.

  Gaston regarded me curiously and I realized I was grinning.

  “I think I can be happy here,” I said.

  He grinned to match me. “Oui, I am pleased you are beginning to feel that way.”

  “Well, there are days when I am a bit slow…”

  He laughed, and we gave our horses their heads and cantered ahead, to the dismay of Pete and Liam. I added teaching them to enjoy riding to my list of tasks.

  After two leisurely days of riding, we at last reached the village where our people had been living for close to six months. Liam led us to the farmhouse they had rented on the edge of the little shire. It was a great sprawling thing in a small orchard, and we saw no one as we approached. Then to my delight, Dickey ran out of the house waving and calling enthusiastically. I had thought he and the Bard were on the Magdalene, anchored at some small port Striker had known of on the eastern coast. Dickey ran into the road with the élan of a boy and nearly pulled me from my horse. And then the household emptied into the yard and we were surrounded with happiness I could feel upon my skin as if it hung upon the air like the scent of flowers.

  They all looked well. The Bard was actually on dry land; but in all other ways he seemed much as he ever was with his arm around Dickey and his lips curled in a sardonic grin. Upon learning that we now owned the sloop that escorted the frigate I had been captive on, he merely cursed and shook his head with wonder. Davey appeared sincerely happy to see us, and did not make much of calling me Lord. Julio was walking better and no longer kept his leg in a brace. Bones looked happy and not so very lean. Once the greeting began to abate, he stood with an arm around a smiling Hannah. She seemed to have lost some of her somberness, and her smile lit her eyes in a way I had not seen before. Rucker just stood about and smiled at everyone; as if we were all some wondrous gift gi
ven to him.

  And then there were our ladies. Yvette and Agnes were radiant and seemed very much at home surrounded by children and laundry. I wondered how they would take to becoming the ladies of a large house. I thought Yvette might do well ordering servants around, but I felt Agnes would find it all a bother. We would have to discover some way of making them happy.

  And then I was handed a small bundle and I forgot the adults existed. He had a downy fine cap of brown hair, and he regarded me with sleepy blue eyes—my blue eyes.

  “This is Alex,” Yvette said.

  “Hello Alex,” I breathed.

  “And this is Uly,” Agnes said and showed me another wondrous infant. This one had auburn curls and amber eyes.

  And then Gaston had him and all I could see was happiness on my matelot’s face.

  “They are real,” I told their mothers.

  They laughed.

  “And you are an Earl,” Yvette said.

  “I am really Lady Dorshire?” Agnes asked with concern.

  “Aye, and we have found us a fine and lovely house close to London, but upriver where it is clean and safe. We can all live together.”

  “With servants,” Yvette said with tight concern about her mouth.

  I snorted. “We will do whatever we wish in our own house. The king himself has told me he does not care what I do in my house; and if he ever does care, fuck him: we will go elsewhere.”

  Gaston took a deep breath as if he had just recalled something. He looked to Yvette earnestly. “Will you marry me?”

  She blinked and looked around him toward the carriages. I saw Chris standing there.

  “Oh, she is married to Pete and bearing his child,” I said.

  “Oh, Gods,” Yvette muttered and began laughing. She met Gaston’s gaze. “Truly? Then oui, I will marry you gladly.”

  “See, everything will be well,” I teased.

  “Pete?” Agnes asked. She was still looking toward Chris, who was looking toward us with trepidation.

  “There is someone you should see,” Yvette said and hurried off.

  I waved Chris over. She approached sheepishly with a protective Pete in her wake.

  Agnes’ wide mouth was pulled down at the corners, but then her gaze flicked to Pete and wonder lit her eyes. “You will have beautiful children.”

  Chris laughed, only to quickly sober. “I don’t want there to be trouble between us.”

  “We will need to live in the same house—or at least on the same grounds,” I said.

  “And you will be Lady Dorshire,” Chris said. “I… I am not your rival in any way.”

  Agnes drew herself taut, as if bridling, and then just as quickly released the tension in a prolonged sigh. “Nay, you are not.” Her tone was not dismissive, but it said much of how she viewed whatever relationship they would have in the future.

  Chris smiled and leaned forward to whisper in Agnes’ ear until my wife’s mouth finally twitched into a reluctant smile.

  “We did vow that, didn’t we?” Agnes said quietly.

  “And look what we have now,” Chris said.

  Agnes smiled with sincerity. “We will make this work.”

  I wished to ask what they had vowed, but knew I never should. And then Gaston was gasping and handing Agnes little Uly. I looked up and saw red curls and green eyes in the most beautiful baby face I had ever beheld.

  “This is Athena,” Yvette said and offered the child to her parents.

  Chris took in a shaky breath and shook her head. Her gaze settled on Gaston and she whispered, “She is yours.”

  Gaston hesitated but for a moment, and then his daughter was in his arms. She viewed him like a cat looks upon a dog, as if she would tolerate him well enough if he did not anger her, but she would swat him just as quickly. I thought of dates, and decided she was a few months shy of two years of age.

  “And, it is my understanding this is Lord Marsdale,” Yvette said.

  I turned and saw another red-headed child, this one our son, Apollo. He still had his father’s eyes, just as his sister did, and he regarded us as cautiously as she did as well; though, perhaps with a little less confidence.

  “Oui, that is my heir,” I said.

  “Papa?” a small voice called up from the side of Yvette’s skirt.

  “And that is Jaime,” I said with pleasure as I spied the dark curls and pretty face of our eldest.

  She squealed with delight and came to wrap herself around my leg as if I had not been absent for a year.

  “And how are my grandchildren?” the Marquis asked loudly as he came to join us.

  “Grandpere!” Jaime squealed, and then the Marquis had her attached to his leg until he could pull her up into his arms. I worried for his back.

  I looked at the other children and found Apollo smiling broadly at his grandfather, and even Athena smiled a little. Agnes and Yvette beamed at the old man.

  Chris was smiling at him as well. I had not seen them speak since she arrived, but they were cordial to one another when their gazes met. I supposed we would work that out, too.

  Pete was peering at Athena. He caught me looking at him and sighed. “If we have girls, I’ll have to teach them to fight better than the boys.”

  I laughed. “Your boys will be beautiful, too.”

  He snorted.

  I chuckled anew. We would be one big beautiful family, and we would live together in a house filled with love.

  I met Gaston’s gaze, and my happiness slipped away. He was pensive. Glancing beyond him, I saw ambuscades in Yvette’s eyes as she looked upon Gaston and Athena.

  “Let us go in and eat?” I asked hopefully. “We are famished after riding all day.”

  “Oui, oui,” Yvette said and led us inside, where many of our friends already were. Theodore came to meet us and show off his daughter, and Striker arrived with a boy on each hip to present to Pete. We sat and supped with children all around and good cheer in the air. I did not find it heady now, though. All I wished to do was speak quietly with either my matelot or his future wife.

  Finally, I saw my chance when Yvette slipped away. I followed her into the yard and waited while she used the latrine. She was surprised to find me as she emerged.

  “What is wrong?” I asked.

  She sighed and shook her head. “I am sorry. We should be happy and…”

  “Non, non, non,” I chided lightly.

  She sighed again and squared her shoulders. “The children.”

  “They are not well?”

  She awarded me a compressed smile. “They are… different.”

  I sighed. “How do you know?” But it was a foolish question. I had already seen it about Athena. “They are his in all ways, non?”

  She nodded. “I think so. His mother was mad, non? And his sister?”

  “How… does it… They do not even speak yet.”

  Yvette snorted and led me to a bench at the edge of yard. It was lit by dim lamplight. “Apollo and Athena can speak like children twice their age. Eliza, Pike and Jaime…” She sighed anew. “Well, Jaime is another matter.”

  “Is she stupid?” I asked.

  “When compared with Eliza and Pike, oui, and… Even the other women see it. Jaime has great difficulty… If you tell Pike not to touch a thing, and it is a thing he wants, he will try and sneak to it—not with malice, but as children do to see if you truly meant ‘non’. But if he is swatted for it, he will stop. Jaime will continue to seek the thing again and again, even if punished. And she will cry every time she is punished, as if it is a great unfairness. And if you ask her if the thing she is doing is a bad thing she will say it is and then do it again anyway. It is not out of evil or malice, it just seems that she does not understand there are consequences. She does whatever comes into her head: when it comes into her head. And she has difficulty learning to speak—still. And she has trouble remembering simple tasks. She is only three, but…”

  “We will have to watch over her as if she were a younger
child…” I asked.

  Yvette sighed. “I have met an older woman like her. She had to be watched her entire life lest she do some stupid or dangerous thing.”

  I sighed. “All right, then that is a burden we will bear. I had thought there would be consequences with her being pickled.”

  Yvette nodded, and then we stared at one another with the thing we had stopped talking about between us.

  “They are truly not like the other children?” I finally asked.

  She shook her head sadly. “The servants whisper of it. Apollo and Athena… They are very smart, but they startle easily, and they do not like loud noises, and they will sit for an hour or more staring or playing with something that caught their eye. They are taciturn and moody—in a manner unlike other children. Sometimes it is as if they are far older children trapped in those little bodies, and then… All children have tantrums, but these two have them like they are possessed.”

  I hissed at her choice of word.

  She shook her head ruefully. “I am sorry, I know… We must never allow that to be said.”

  I sighed and embraced her apologetically. I wondered how in the name of the Gods we would teach two so young to ride.

  “It will be a challenge,” I whispered. “Gaston and I know how we deal with his madness, and he at least will understand how they feel and what they see.”

  “That is my hope for them,” she said. “But I saw you all so happy, and then I saw him looking at her and I knew he knew.”

  “As did I.”

  “How could I not know?” Gaston asked from the shadows closer to the door.

  We started, and Yvette stood and hurried to kiss his cheek before slipping inside.

  He came to me and I could see the weight of a thousand burdens about his shoulders. I pulled him down beside me and embraced him.

  “This is not yours alone to bear,” I said. “And we know it is not madness as others might think, but…”