Chapter 13
“There is something odd about these numbers, but I cannot put my finger on it.” Catherine frowned as she peered at the household ledger books.
She was sitting in the Duchess’s study with Mrs. Danvers. She had tried at first to read the ledgers in the Duke’s study, but found her mind wandered far more easily. The smell of cedar and amber clung to the ledgers even now and it was with an effort that Catherine dismissed the smell.
It had been several days since she had left Oliver with Alaric and come back to find her husband gently looking after a sleeping child.
I did not know he could look at another person so warmly. Her chest tightened as she thought of how tempted she had been to accept his offer to carry Oliver to her rooms. Her mouth went dry.
I made those rules for a reason.
But at that moment, they seemed pointless. A shiver ran down her spine, and she forced herself back to the task at hand. Since she had come to the castle, Alaric had granted her access to the full accounts of the estate.
“His Grace took great pains to restore the estate when he inherited his title.” Mrs. Danvers pointed to older ledgers. “The late Duke of Coldmere had more extravagant tendencies than h is Grace.”
“Clearly.” Catherine pointed to several of the books. “I cannot work out what half of these payments are for, though I assume they were unimportant, given Alaric stopped them almost immediately. I just wish he had noted down what they were for.”
Catherine sighed and pushed herself back from the desk. “I suppose it does not matter. It was some years ago, after all.”
“Perhaps you could discuss it with His Grace?” Mrs. Danvers glanced at Catherine.
Catherine stood up and stretched, deliberately not meeting Mrs. Danvers’s eye. “Perhaps. Though I am not sure it is worth bothering him with.”
In truth, Catherine was trying to avoid Alaric as much as possible. Besides, although some of his memories had returned, there were still large gaps. He probably would have no more answers than she did.
“That will be all, Mrs. Danvers.” Catherine inclined her head to her housekeeper.
Mrs. Danvers curtsied and left the room. Catherine sighed, her eyes returning to the ledgers.
“There is something there, I know it.” She glared at the books as they lay there taunting her. “I suppose I could ask Alaric.”
She rested a hand on her stomach as it fluttered about wildly. The sound of laughter drifted in from her window. Oliver. He had grown more confident in the last few days, which, unfortunately, came with a stronger adventurous streak.
“I hope he has not slipped away from Annabelle again.” She shook her head and made her way toward the gardens. “I do not want him to get hurt. He needs supervision.”
A governess. Alaric’s voice echoed in her mind. She lightly touched her throat as she remembered how his eyes had studied her face. She knew he saw the circles beginning to form beneath her eyes, but instead of scolding her, he wanted to help.
She pushed the thought from her mind as she entered the gardens, her eyes searching for Oliver.
She saw him running through the grass. His dark hair was tousled with a few leaves in it.
There were grass stains on his clothes, and his cheeks were flushed.
His arms and legs moved quickly as he ran in circles.
His stone slate and chalk lay nearby, temporarily left behind.
A small yip rang out, and Catherine saw why Oliver was so happy. A tiny puppy was chasing after and being chased by Oliver, yapping happily as it slipped and rolled while trying to keep up.
A little way from Oliver and the puppy was Alaric. Catherine’s heart swelled when she saw his smile. It softened his chiseled features, adding warmth to his strong jaw and clever eyes. He looked up as she approached.
Her breath caught, her muscles tensed. His smile made the corners of his green eyes crinkle as he walked toward her.
“I take it this is your doing?” Catherine gestured to Oliver, who was now throwing a stick for the puppy.
Alaric nodded, stopping a few steps away from her as the wind caught his familiar scent of amber and cedar. She inhaled instinctively.
“He asked for a puppy, and I thought a companion would do him good.” Alaric’s eyes left Catherine’s, and she felt like she could breathe again. “I found her near the stables the day before yesterday. I searched for some trace of the mother or her litter, but found nothing.”
“They probably got separated in the storm.” Catherine thought of the howling winds that had ripped through the estate earlier in the week.
“That was my thought.” Alaric nodded as he watched Oliver and the puppy. “I have kept her with me since I found her. She was very weak, and I wanted to be sure she would survive before I gave her to Oliver. He does not need more loss in his life.”
The image of Alaric holding the tiny puppy in his large hands sprang into Catherine’s mind. “You cared for her yourself?”
“It seemed the most sensible thing to do. If she survived, it would give me a better understanding of her temperament. And if she did not, only I would have to manage the loss.” His smile faltered slightly, and Catherine realized she had been reaching to lay a hand on his arm.
Hastily, she pulled her hand back and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Is that why you have such circles beneath your eyes?”
“Last night, she decided that exploring my bedchambers was not exciting enough and managed to chew her way through my favorite pair of riding boots. I suggest that you move anything you value out of the puppy’s reach.” Alaric gave Catherine an amused smile that made her heart flutter treacherously.
“I shall inform Mrs. Danvers.” Catherine laughed. “I suspect the puppy will follow Oliver wherever he goes, which means the house will have to be proofed against her antics. I am not sure you realize just how much chaos you have invited into our lives.”
Alaric grimaced. “Perhaps a more sensible man would have found her another place. But I could not. It seemed serendipitous to the point of divinity. A boy who has lost his father, a duke who has lost his memories, and a puppy who has lost her pack.”
Alaric paused, and Catherine felt his eyes flicker toward her and then away.
She sensed the next part of the sentence lingering, but the thought of Alaric sharing what he believed she had lost was like a dagger in her heart.
She broke the silence before he could voice the thought, even as a part of her ached to know what he was going to say.
“Perhaps you will all find something in each other.” Catherine gestured between the three of them as the ache in her chest grew. “I wonder what he will name her.”
Catherine could feel Alaric’s eyes on her even as she forced herself to keep watching Oliver play.
She felt him shift his weight, the hairs on her body relaxing as he focused elsewhere.
“I have no idea. It will be an interesting guessing game to see what he draws on that slate of his. I do not think he knows how to write.”
“Not that I have seen.” Catherine suspected it would not be difficult to teach him.
“I have told Oliver that he is responsible for the puppy. Her name is just part of it. He must ensure her care.” Alaric’s words made Catherine frown, and she turned to him, ready to point out that Oliver was still a child, but he continued before she could speak, “Do not worry, the staff will help him, and I have already spoken to the kennel master about it. I want Oliver to understand responsibility, not drown in it.”
“How very... paternal of you.” Catherine watched Alaric’s face, expecting the warm smile to be replaced by the frown that usually accompanied her mentioning Oliver’s parentage.
To her surprise, he shrugged. “One can act paternal without claiming paternity, Catherine. There are fathers who hold the title but do not act the part. It stands to reason that there would be men who act the part but bear not the title. After all, you certainly treat him maternally, yet you are not his mother.”
Catherine opened her mouth, about to object, but the words caught in her throat. He was right. She had been mothering Oliver. Without meaning to, her heart had opened to him, and he had slipped inside.
Her heart was open and full of hope, and it sent a thrill of terror through her.
Warmth fought with fear as she saw the pride in Alaric’s face while his eyes followed Oliver and the puppy, and she felt the warmth drown out the fear.
She felt the gravel shift as Alaric’s weight moved, ready to spring into action if Oliver might stumble.
Her chest ached as she watched him observe Oliver. The little boy’s joyful giggles mingled with the puppy’s barking and the birdsong. The sunlight shone through the clouds, highlighting the red in the puppy’s fur and reflecting off the shiny hair of Alaric and Oliver.
Something small and hard collided with her leg, and she looked down to see the puppy rolling away from her, a stick in its mouth. She laughed as it shook itself off and put the stick down on the ground, barking expectantly.
She reached for it at the same time as Alaric. Her fingertips brushed his, and a jolt shot through her. She jerked her hand back as though she had been burned, her cheeks flushing.
She got to her feet, shaking her head, trying to clear it of the haze that had settled over her.
What am I doing? She could hear Alaric as though from a distance, asking if she was well.
He abandoned his son. He abandoned his son. None of this was real. He had lost most of his memories, but once they all returned, the real Alaric would too.
“I think it is time we find Oliver a governess.” The words slipped out before she could stop them.
She saw Alaric freeze, his arm outstretched. The stick remained clenched in his hand, and the puppy was pawing and yipping impatiently.
“You asked me to think on it, and I have.” Catherine took another step back. “I can have Mrs. Danvers place an advertisement in the local paper and reach out to her own contacts. With any luck, we can interview candidates within the week.”
“And is there a particular reason for the rush?” Alaric flung the stick for the puppy, but did not take his eyes from Catherine’s face.
The warmth had disappeared. Catherine noticed a coldness taking hold of Alaric, and she concentrated on it, using it to strengthen her own resolve.
“Why wait? The sooner we can get someone in post, the better. Oliver will have someone who can focus on his needs, who can teach him to read and write, and ensure he is safe. Someone he trusts, and who can tend to him once I leave.” Catherine saw Alaric’s mouth thin.
“You agreed that you would not depart until we knew the truth of his parentage.” Alaric took a step toward her, his eyes darkening.
She forced herself not to step back. “I know what I agreed to, but the longer I am here, the harder it will be for Oliver when I leave.”
The harder it will be for me to leave. She had to harden her heart. Alaric’s eyes were so dark that they reminded her of the heart of an ancient forest. It took all of her control not to step away from him.
“I do not want him to get too attached.” Catherine forced the words out of her throat, even as she felt them stab into her own heart. “I am not his mother. And as you have pointed out, I have been too maternal with the boy.”
“That is not what I said,” Alaric growled.
“I know, and I care for him and want him to be safe and loved. But I will not bear the responsibility of his welfare, not when he has a father who should be doing that.” Catherine stepped backward.
“I am glad that you have taken an interest in him, that he feels safe with you. Once he has a governess and he is settled with her, I will give you a week to find out the truth of his parentage. But I... I cannot stay here indefinitely.”
She watched Alaric’s jaw work furiously, but when he spoke, his voice remained calm. “That was not our agreement.”
“We have to set a time limit, Alaric. It will take Oliver at least a month to settle, if not more. It has already been some weeks.” Catherine bit her lip. “If we have not found any new evidence in that time, you must accept that there is nothing to be found.”
Alaric straightened and closed the distance between them, but Catherine did not back away. Instead, she extended her hand, hovering it an inch from his chest. He paused.
“You cannot truly believe that.”
“You asked me to be your touchstone, to tell you the truth when no one else would.” Catherine’s heart was pounding against her chest. “If we cannot find anything after months of searching, there is nothing to be found. Do not force me to stay because you cannot accept the truth.”
Alaric’s eyes widened, and he stepped away. Catherine could see the tension in his jaw, and when he spoke, his words were clipped.
“I will not force you to do anything, Catherine. I ask only that you do the same for me.”
Catherine bit her lip. One of them would have to give in, and they both knew it. Catherine looked into his eyes, clenching her fists.
It will not be me.