Chapter 23 #3
“Good, Wolf, good,” Ned said, hands on his hips. Then he looked over his shoulder, saw his father and beamed. “Papa!”
Lizzie stood very still as Ned ran to his father, who swept him up into his arms. Ned laughed, as did Tyrell. Then Tyrell held him close, just for a moment. “We have a caller,” he said quietly to his son. “Remember? I told you this morning that your aunt Elizabeth would come.”
And watching them, Lizzie knew she had done the right thing.
Ned was so intently focused on his father that it was clear just how strong the bond between them was.
He resembled his father more than ever, too.
He studied Tyrell for a long moment, as if trying to make a decision of some sort, and then he turned his dark gaze on Lizzie.
The impact of his steady, curious and calm regard was enough to make more tears fall.
Tyrell slipped Ned to his feet on the floor. “Why is Aunt crying?” Ned asked, his regard unwavering upon Lizzie.
Tyrell kept one hand on his son. “She is very happy to see you, as she has not seen you since you were a year old.”
Ned continued to stare. Lizzie managed a tearful smile. “Hello, Ned,” she whispered. Her heart had never ached more. It was so hard not to rush to him and hug him now. But Lizzie knew better than to frighten him, although she did doubt that very much would ever distress him.
He did not smile back. His brow furrowed, and in that moment, Lizzie knew he felt some kind of recognition and was trying to place her.
“I knew you when you were just a baby,” Lizzie said. She reached out and touched his soft cheek; he did not move. “I have brought you a present. Do you want to see it?”
He nodded. “Don’t cry.”
“I will try not to, but your father is right, I am so very happy to see you again.”
Ned took her hand.
Lizzie laughed shakily and clung to his tiny hand. She looked up and met Tyrell’s steady gaze. He smiled a little at her and she gave up. She knelt on the floor, facing Ned, the tears streaming. “May I give you a hug?”
Ned didn’t hesitate; he nodded.
Lizzie took him into her arms. She knew she must not overdo it, but he put his arms around her instantly and hugged her back.
She swallowed the lump of anguish, holding him tightly, cherishing that single moment, the greatest in her life.
Then she swiftly rose to her feet. “Here.” She could barely speak and she handed him one of the parcels.
He tore open the paper wrapping, producing a jack-in-the-box. He had clearly seen one before, as he hit the lid and the colorful clown popped out. Ned laughed with delight, stuffed him back down in the box, and sat on the floor, releasing the figure again. Wolf wagged his tail in excitement.
Lizzie wiped the last of her tears from her face. She was acutely aware of Ned playing on the floor, not far from where she stood, and Tyrell standing behind her, watching them both. How had her life come to this? She looked at Rosie, who had stood up. “Rosie,” she said.
Rosie was crying. “Mum.”
Lizzie rushed to her and she and Rosie embraced.
“How are you?” Lizzie cried, releasing her.
Rosie wiped her eyes. “Very well, mum. His lordship has been nothing but good to me. But we have missed you, we have, me and Little Ned.”
Lizzie could only nod, hoping that Ned had not missed her for very long. “I am so proud of the little boy he has become,” she said. “He is so grown up! Thank you, Rosie. Thank you for staying with Ned. Thank you for everything.”
Rosie smiled at her.
Feeling his regard, Lizzie turned and looked at Tyrell. His eyes were intent and filled with speculation. Lizzie’s heart lurched as she wondered exactly what he was thinking. “He has gotten so tall!”
“Yes, he has been growing like a little weed.”
“I am happy for you,” Lizzie managed to say, meaning it with all of her heart.
Ned continued to play with the jack-in-the-box, the big dog as fascinated with the clown as he was. “Thank you for the gift,” Tyrell said.
“I have something else for Ned, as well,” Lizzie said quickly, now unnerved by his regard.
She rushed back to the room’s threshold and took a very small parcel from the bag.
She paused there, breathing deeply, recalling every day and night they had spent together with Ned at Wicklowe as a family.
It was almost as if the five months apart had not existed—yet it was also as if those months had been an entire lifetime.
“Elizabeth?” He had come to stand directly behind her and she jumped, thrown off balance.
He steadied her, lightly grasping her elbows, and Lizzie stilled. She could feel his attention and interest, and she knew it would only take a single kiss for them to wind up exactly as they had once been. She pulled away and handed the parcel to Tyrell.
“Is this for me?”
“No, it is for Ned,” she began, and then she saw the light in his eyes and realized he was teasing her. She blushed and stepped back another pace, knowing she must put more distance between them.
Tyrell opened the parcel, no longer smiling, as if sensing her thoughts. But when it came to her feelings, he was so incredibly astute. He touched the cover of the illustrated book of fairy tales. “I will enjoy reading this to Ned at night,” he said.
Lizzie could see him, less formally attired, perhaps in a smoking jacket, sitting with Ned on the sofa, reading softly to him, the rest of the house dark. The image was too painful.
“Would you mind if I stayed and played with Ned for a while?” she asked.
His gaze was very direct. “Only if you promise to visit us again.”
Her heart leapt. He had used the word us. It wasn’t fair. And what did he really mean?
“You will come again,” he said quietly, and it was not a question.
Lizzie gave up. “I should love to come again.”
He smiled at her. “Would Friday afternoon do?”
“Yes.” A thrill swept her. In two more days she would be back at Harmon House, visiting Ned—and seeing Tyrell. And in that moment, she knew that her best intentions were in dire jeopardy.
He was watching her very closely now, as a hunter about to capture his prey. He was waiting, she realized, before making his move. The only question was, what did he actually intend? Lizzie felt certain he wanted to renew their affair.
It would be so terribly easy to do. But hadn’t she known with every fiber of her being that coming to Harmon House today was inherently dangerous?
“Would you like a glass of wine?” Tyrell asked quietly.
Lizzie hesitated. “A glass of wine would be nice,” she said.