“Demanding?” she asked.
“Quite vigorously.”
“Surely Sir Argus’s enemies would not come right up to the door of Sundunmoor and demand we show them where he is,” she muttered.
“Ah, no. These are not his enemies. They are two young lads.”
“How young?”
“About twelve, maybe a little more, or a little less. Quite hard to judge at that age.”
“No one else is with them? It is just the boys?”
“It appears so. Shall I bring them to you?”
“Yes, Max, I think you had best do so. We do not wish to send them straight to Sir Argus without knowing what they really want. It could be something he needs to be warned about. Perhaps some food and drink for them, too. I will attempt to discover what this is all about.”
She frowned when Max left. It had sounded very much as if he had said, “Do not think you will like it.” That made no sense. Why would she not like two young boys? Her home was filled with young boys and she was fond of them all. She also did not think there was anything two boys could do or say that would upset her. Talking to them before taking them to Sir Argus was merely taking a precaution, and, she ruefully admitted, satisfying her curiosity.
Lorelei had barely managed to set her book aside, stand up, and brush out her skirts when Max showed the two boys into the morning room. They looked as if they had endured a long, hard journey. A closer look made her certain the boys were related to the Wherlockes or Vaughns in some way. The family definitely had a distinctive appearance or, as her father liked to say, they bred true.
“What have you done with our father?” demanded the taller of the two boys.
“Here now,” said Max in his sternest tone of voice. “Gentlemen do not speak so to a lady. This is the Lady Lorelei, daughter of the Duke of Sundunmoor, and you will show her the proper respect. Now, bow and introduce yourselves.”
For a moment Lorelei feared the boys were going to make the mistake of arguing with Max. Her entire family could line up and attest to the fact that that was a waste of time. Max was the undisputed master of the stare that intimidated and the final word that made any further argument make one sound like an idiot. They glared at him, but then the taller boy elbowed the other in the side, and they both looked at her. Neither boy was looking particularly friendly, but they performed their bows with grace and no hint of insult.
“I am Darius Wherlocke,” said the taller boy, “and this is my brother Olwen. We are Sir Argus’s sons and we want to know where he is.”
Shock held Lorelei silent for what seemed like hours, but she knew it could only have been a minute or two, for Max had not cleared his throat. Max had said exactly what she had thought he had as he had left the room to fetch the boys and, as always, he had been right. She did not like this. Various emotions were clawing at her heart and none of them were good ones.
We are Sir Argus’s sons.
It was often said that words could hurt, but Lorelei had never fully believed that, thinking unkind remarks could easily be shrugged aside as the ignorance of the person saying them. She believed it now. Argus had two sons and had never told her. Was there a wife he had also neglected to mention? She groped for the training her governess had pounded into her, pulling the cloak of good manners around herself and letting it smother her confusion and pain.
“Come in and sit down, please,” she said, waving the boys toward seats at the small table set before the wide doors leading into the garden. “Max will bring us some refreshment and we will talk.” She heard Max leave as she sat down at the table, the boys revealing enough good manners to wait until she was seated before they, too, sat down. “Before I answer your demands”—she was pleased to see both boys had the grace to blush faintly—“I want you to tell me how you got here, and where is the adult who should be with you?”
“We came here by wagon,” replied Darius. “And coach. We stay at Radmoor with our cousin Penelope and her husband Ashton Pendellen Radmoor, the Viscount of Radmoor.”
“’Tis a huge place, like this,” said Olwen, “but as soon as our father finishes our home in London we will stay with him now and then.”
“Only now and then?”
“Well, we do not want to leave the others.”
“What of your mother?” she asked as Max returned to set out the food, including several thick slices of bread placed around a healthy supply of meat and cheese.
“Our mothers left us with Penelope. All the others were left by their mothers, too.”
Max straightened up and looked at the boys. “So you came here alone. You ran off like cowards because you knew you would not be given permission to make this journey.”
“We left a note for Pen,” said Darius. “And we had to come. We heard that something had happened to our father, but no one would tell us what, even when we asked. They said they would tell us when they knew for certain. Then we heard that he was here. Iago, Leopold, Bened, Wynn, Todd, and even Aunt Olympia were here, too. So we decided we needed to come here and see what was happening to him for ourselves.”
“Max, we need some writing materials, please,” said Lorelei.
“Immediately, m’lady,” he said and left to get them.
“But we left a note,” protested Olwen.
“Eat.” As soon as they began, she continued, “You are how old? Twelve?” They both nodded. “And yet you traveled here all alone. I think you are clever enough to know that was wrong. And clever enough to know that simply leaving a note to say where you were going does not correct your misjudgment. The viscount and the viscountess are undoubtedly worried, if they have not already begun to hunt for you.”
“They were not at Radmoor when we left.”
“Oh, this just gets better and better,” said Max as he set the writing materials down on the table.
“I would not try to stare Max down,” Lorelei said, and both boys stopped glaring at Max to look at her. “He has had many years of practice in outstaring wrongheaded children. As soon as you are done eating you will write a letter to Radmoor. You will explain where you are and apologize, profusely, for worrying them.” She took a piece of paper and dipped the quill into the pot of ink. “I will include a message of my own to assure them that you are safe here. Then you will explain what you have done when you see your father.”
“He is here!” declared Darius. “Where is he?” He glanced at a frowning Max and hastily added, “m’lady.”
“I will escort you to him once you have written to the Radmoors. Then you can assure yourself that he is safe as you try to explain your idiocy to him.” She glanced up from the message she was writing to find them both staring at her.
“You have brothers,” said Darius.
“Thirteen of them. Three older, ten younger.” She smiled to herself when Olwen choked slightly and Darius had to slap him on the back, especially when Max winced at the cloud of dust that rose from Olwen’s coat.
Accompanied by the sounds of two young boys filling their obviously very empty stomachs under the stern gaze of Max, Lorelei wrote to the Radmoors. Concentrating on what to say was not enough to silence her thoughts, however, and it was a continuous struggle to maintain her composure. She feared she could easily make herself ill caging in such fierce emotions.
What she wanted to do was rush over to the gatehouse and demand some answers from Argus. Yet, a part of her did not wish to hear how Argus had come to have two sons so close in age by two different women. And why were his children living with the Radmoors? She quickly shook the thoughts from her head, for they threatened her tenuous control over her riotous emotions.
By the time she had finished her message, the boys were ready to write theirs. Lorelei sipped at the tea Max served her and watched him direct the boys in what needed to be said. When they were done, they watched Max carefully as he looked over their work and then slumped with relief when he nodded. It had always astonished her how children, especially the boys, all wanted to see t
hat nod of approval from Max, including herself.
Max collected the letters. “I will see that these are sent out immediately, m’lady. I will also have Gregor Four ready to escort you to the gatehouse.”
“Thank you, Max.” She did not want a guard, but did not argue. After what had happened to Olympia, Lorelei doubted she could get two steps outside the door without a guard before Max dragged her back in.
“Why do you need someone to escort you to your own gatehouse?” asked Olwen.
“Your father will explain,” she replied, “after which you will be very fortunate if he does not banish you to the attics with naught but bread and water for being such complete idiots.”
“Do you talk to your brothers like that?”
“All the time. Come along then,” she said as she stood up and they hastily did the same. “Let us get you to your father.” Just saying the word father caused her pain and she sternly told herself not to be an idiot.
“This is a grand place,” said Olwen as they walked along the path to the gatehouse.
“Yes, it has been in the Sundun family for many, many years,” replied Lorelei.
“Is that house over there the one where our father, aunt, and cousins are staying?” asked Darius, pointing to the gatehouse that was just coming into view.
“It is. We keep it for guests, for some of the ones who come to visit do not really appreciate the freedom the children here are given. Papa knows which ones they are and always offers them the gatehouse, allowing them to graciously accept so everyone is happy and no insults are made.”
“Sneaky,” said Darius, but he grinned.
“I prefer the word clever. Mayhap even diplomatic.”
“Does sound nicer,” said Olwen.
“You do know that you should not have traveled here all on your own, do you not?” she asked them and almost smiled when they both sighed heavily.
“Aye, but no one would tell us what had happened to our father and Olwen was worried,” said Darius.
Lorelei shook her head. Olwen was obviously the one who got blamed for things, Darius being the stronger of the two. Glancing at Olwen, she suspected he had a sweeter nature. She realized, too, that the Wherlockes must have been raised in the country, for all the adults staying at the gatehouse occasionally said aye and nay. Her governess had made sure that she stopped even though they both knew she would never be spending much time amongst the London aristocracy.
When they reached the gatehouse door, Lorelei hesitated for a moment. She suddenly did not want to see Argus acknowledge the boys as his sons. It would all become so real then. Instead of thinking he had kept a very large secret from her, she would know it for a fact. Glancing at the boys, she shook free of the hold that uncertainty had on her. They were just boys worried about their father. She would not allow them to be caught up in some confrontation between her and Argus even if she did think a man should inform his new lover that he had children already.
Lorelei rapped on the door and waited. Iago answered and smiled at her. He glanced at the boys and that smile disappeared like dew beneath the morning sun. The next look he gave her was one of uncertainty with a touch of alarm. She had the answer to what small doubt she had still clung to. These boys were Argus’s sons.
Before the man could say anything, Darius asked, “Where is our father?”
“Argus, best you get out here,” called Iago over his shoulder.
“What is it?” Argus said as he strode up to the door a moment later.
“You have guests.”
Argus looked at Lorelei and wondered why she was not smiling at him, and then a nudge from Iago had him look to her right. He tensed in shock as he stared into Olwen’s face. A look to his left had him staring at his son Darius, who looked cross. This was not the way he would have wanted Lorelei to find out that he had two sons.
“How did you two get here?” he asked his sons.
“We came to find you,” said Darius, not answering the question.
Argus looked at Lorelei. “Come in and we will straighten this out,” he said, hoping she would understand that he meant more than just what his sons were doing so far from home.
“No, I think not,” said Lorelei. “This is a family matter. The boys and I have already written to the Radmoors to let them know that they have arrived safely and are with their father. They will now tell you why they are here and how they got here. Best if you do that on your own, as a family.” She looked at the two boys. “It was nice to meet you and I am sure I will see you again.” She nodded to Argus. “Good day, Sir Argus.”
Lorelei was proud of how calm and polite she had sounded as she walked away. What she had really wanted to do was find something very heavy and hit him over the head with it a few times. She never had such violent feelings and decided that was all Argus’s fault, too. If he thought she would just ignore this, he was a fool. Sir Argus was going to have to explain himself, and then she would decide if she could forgive him.
Iago cleared his throat. “A little chilly,” he murmured.
“A little?” Argus ushered his sons into the parlor. “Ice. Pure ice.”
“She was angry with you,” said Darius as he sat down on one of the settees.
“I believe I noticed that.” Argus sat down across from his sons and crossed his arms over his chest. “Now you can tell me why you are here and not at Radmoor where you are supposed to be.”
“Olwen had a vision,” said Darius.
“Just a little one,” murmured Olwen.
“We knew you were in trouble, but no one would tell us anything so when we found out where you were, we decided we needed to come and find out if you were all right. Olwen was not sure.”
“If you are quite done trying to put all the blame on Olwen for this idiocy, I would like you to answer the question as to how you got here.”
As they told him of the journey they had taken from Radmoor to Sundunmoor, Argus felt his blood chill. It was pure luck that they had managed to get to him unharmed. He glanced at Iago, who looked as horrified as he felt. Just as he opened his mouth to begin a long, ear-burning lecture, someone knocked on the door. Iago jumped up to go and see who was there and Argus wondered if the man had sensed the lecture about to commence.
The voice he heard speaking to Iago was familiar enough to halt Argus’s lecture before it had even begun. He was not surprised when Iago brought Stefan into the room. The way Stefan glared at Darius and Olwen told Argus exactly why the youth was there.
“Is there anyone left at Radmoor, or is poor Pen going to come home to find that all her little birds have flown?” he drawled.
Stefan winced as he sat down. “I saw their note to Pen and thought I could catch them before they got too far.”
“How is it that you came here and did not go up to the main house?”
“I stopped to ask this man driving sheep over the road if he had seen two boys. He asked my name and I told him. He stared at me for a moment, nodded, and said, ‘Aye, you be one of them,’ and sent me here.”
“One of the Gregors, I imagine,” said Iago. “I think one of them is the sheepherder. They all have a keen eye and Stefan does have the look of us.”
“Yes, well, Stefan, you are in time to share in the lecture I am about to give my sons,” said Argus and almost smiled at the youth’s look of dismay.
All three boys sat stoically as Argus informed them of their idiocy, of every danger they avoided by sheer luck, and how they had better grovel for forgiveness to Penelope, who will worry about them. He also told them about Cornick and stressed how they had just blindly walked into danger since the man was lurking around Sundunmoor. Argus did not think he had to point out how easily they could have been taken and used against him, but he did anyway. He then got quill and paper and had Stefan write to Pen, adding a few words of his own. It was not a good time for the three boys to be at Sundunmoor, but it would be even more treacherous to try to send them home.
“Lady Lorelei said w
e would be fortunate if you did not banish us to the attics with only bread and water,” said Olwen, who still looked as if he wanted to cry.
“Actually you are very fortunate that I am not a man who believes in the adage of spare the rod, spoil the child,” said Argus.
“Good God,” said Olympia as she hobbled into the room. “Are we to expect the rest of Radmoor to arrive soon?” She hesitated for a moment before allowing Iago to help her to a seat.
“Aunt, what has happened to you?” said Olwen in alarm as he and Darius rushed to her side. “Did you fall off your horse?”
“Olwen did not see that, hmmm?” Argus had to bite back a grin at the guilty look that skipped across Darius’s face.
“I fear I met up with a very bad man,” said Olympia, ruffling each boy’s hair and smiling when they grumbled.
“The bad men you three did not know about while you were blindly riding through the very area where he is lurking,” Argus said and smiled when all three boys cast him a wary glance.
“I can help,” said Stefan as he stepped up to Olympia.
“If you are but newly arrived from a long journey, will you not be too tired? It can wait until you have rested,” Olympia said.
“Nay, you are in a lot of pain and the injuries are not so severe.”
Argus watched as Stefan did his magic. The healers in the family always amazed, even awed him. He was not sure how such a gift worked, but it was miraculous to watch Olympia’s bruises fade and see her sit up straighter, the pinched look of pain leaving her face. Stefan only looked slightly paler when he was done, accepting the kiss of gratitude from Olympia and blushing, before he returned to his seat.
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