CHAPTER 14
“You need to eat, m’lady,” chided Raven through a mouthful of mashed turnips. “It’s important to keep up your strength.”
Hawk elbowed his brother. “Don’t talk wiv your mouth full,” he whispered as he reached across the table to spear a slice of roast capon from the serving platter.
Out of the mouths of babes. They were, of course, not babes any longer, thought Charlotte, observing the boys through lowered lashes.
How quickly they were growing. It seemed like just yesterday that she and her late husband had found them curled in the unlocked entryway of their tiny residence, two scrawny little weasels—
“Would you have preferred fish instead of fowl?” inquired McClellan.
“My apologies.” She set her fork down. “I fear my earlier visit to Newgate has robbed me of my appetite.”
“You still think the cove is innocent?” asked Raven.
“Yes,” replied Charlotte. “But, as of yet, neither Wrexford nor I have found any proof of it.”
“You’ll catch the culprit,” announced Hawk. “No villain is a match for you and His Lordship.”
She wished she felt as sanguine. “I owe you an apology, sweeting. I haven’t forgotten my promise to take you to Kew Gardens, but the investigation has raised some unexpected matters that must be dealt with. We shall go soon.”
“Ha—I know there must be something afoot,” interjected Raven. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be calling for a council of war tonight.”
The boy was too clever by half. “Yes,” conceded Charlotte. “There are important matters to discuss. So be quick about finishing your supper and getting to work on your lessons for Mr. Linsley. If they aren’t done by the time the others arrive, you’ll have to miss the meeting.”
Eyes widening, Hawk crammed another bite of capon into his mouth before hastily rising and scurrying for the stairs.
Raven wasn’t in quite such a rush. He buttered a piece of bread before getting to his feet and raising his eyes to meet hers.
It was unnerving how well he had learned to mimic the earl’s scowling stare. She forced herself not to blink.
“Are you finally going to tell us what’s been gnawing at your gut?”
“If you wish for the answer, I suggest you fly up to your aerie and finish your mathematics assignment.”
An angry flush rose to Raven’s cheeks.
McClellan cleared her throat in warning. He ignored it.
“Be damned with mathematics!”
Charlotte bit her lip. “I was under the impression you enjoyed helping Mr. Tyler and Lord Wrexford with their laboratory calculations.”
The boy’s scowl wavered, but only for an instant. “Yeah, I do. But it ain’t—it isn’t—worth letting you face whatever trouble you’re in without us there to help.”
Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes.
“I’m not in trouble, sweeting. I’ve simply been .
. .” Raven and Hawk had been very wary about moving from her old residence.
Things had worked out very well. However, their lives would undergo yet another transformation, along with hers.
She wasn’t at all sure of how they would react.
“I’ve simply been contemplating another change.”
Raven stiffened. “Are Hawk and I going to have to leave?”
His voice was flat, but the ripple of uncertainty in his gaze had Charlotte out of her chair in a flash.
“Never.” She gathered him in a fierce hug and held on for dear life, no matter that he was far more reserved than his brother and shied away from physical endearments. “We are a family.”
The boy was still mostly bones and sharp angles, and yet she felt his muscles uncoil.
“Blood may not tie us together, but love does. And that’s an even stronger bond.”
He made a dismissive sound, but didn’t try to pull away. “Naw, it’s the jam tarts we would miss,” he drawled—again in perfect imitation of Wrexford.
“I shall see you have your fill tomorrow.” She ruffled his hair. “That is, assuming you finish your lessons.”
Rolling his eyes, Raven wriggled free. “What change—”
“To your aerie,” she said. “Now.”
He made another face, but Charlotte saw he was smiling as he turned for the stairs.
McClellan was gathering the plates from the table. “Change, eh? Perhaps it is I who will be asked to go,” she murmured.
“And leave me without jam tarts? Heaven forfend.”
A chuckle rose over the clink of cutlery. “The lads seem very fond of my Dundee cakes as well.”
“So am I,” replied Charlotte as she began helping to clear the table. “The cuisine in this house has improved markedly since you arrived. So I do hope you have no plans of moving on.”
“None whatsoever.” McClellan carried the dishes to the tiny scullery by the pantry. “The position suits me.”
“Even though this is a rather eccentric household?” she asked.
The maid set a hand on her hip. “I hope that isn’t going to change.”
A rattle of the back door saved Charlotte from having to reply. She heard it open and close, followed by the brusque stomp-stomp of mud being shaken from boots.
A moment later, Wrexford appeared in the kitchen and shrugged out of his overcoat.
“Tyler allowed you out dressed in that?” McClellan raised her brows. “His standards must be slipping.”
The earl added his shapeless hat to the pile of rumpled wool. “Much as it pains your cousin’s sensibilities, there are times when it’s best not to flaunt my lordly finery.”
“Thank you for coming, milord,” interjected Charlotte. Her nerves were too taut for bantering. “The others have not yet arrived. Would you care for some tea while we wait for them in the parlor?”
Wrexford extracted a bottle from the fold of the overcoat and placed it on the table. “I took the liberty of bringing a bottle of Scottish malt. I imagine Henning—along with the rest of us—will need something stronger than tea before the evening is over.”
Curiosity lit in McClellan’s eyes, but she turned back to clearing away the remains of supper. “You two go on. I shall bring a tray with glasses and the spirits in a moment.”
* * *
Wrexford followed Charlotte, noting her rigid gait and the steel-stiff set of her shoulders. Her trepidation was understandable. Snakes may shed their skin often, but in his experience, most people found the process of stripping off one persona and assuming another profoundly daunting.
And here she was attempting to do it for the second time.
“Try to relax,” he murmured as she assumed an awkward perch on the edge of the sofa. “You are among friends. We’ll be here to help you navigate through all the shoals and eddies that lie ahead.”
She managed a shaky exhale and allowed herself to sink back against the pillows. “I’m very grateful for—”
“Love doesn’t require gratitude,” he said.
The lamplight caught the crosscurrents of emotion as her eyes widened in shock. Love was a word that was rarely said aloud by either of them.
“In a close-knit friendship, such as ties our little band together, it’s understood that we’re all here to help each other.”
Charlotte looked momentarily bereft of speech.
A good thing, he decided, as she might be tempted to ring a peal over his head when he showed her what was in his coat pocket.
Ah, well—in for a penny, in for a pound.
Parchment crackled as Wrexford took a seat in the facing armchair and withdrew a packet tied with a wide black ribbon. “With that in mind,” he continued, “I thought that these might prove useful to have.”
Her gaze turned wary.
“They won’t bite.”
“And yet, something tells me I’m not going to be happy having them in my hands.”
“Take them, Mrs. Sloane. We’ll discuss their contents in a moment, but be assured, you’ll find them invaluable at some point.”
Charlotte reluctantly took them. After a brief hesitation, she untied the ribbon and slowly unfolded them, setting off a scarlet wink of official wax seals.
It took her several long moments to read them over. When she looked up, her expression was . . .
Impossible to fathom, decided the earl. He waited for her to speak.
“In the name of all that’s unholy, how did you manage to get these?”
“I deal with several very skilled legal practitioners for my estate matters. I’ve always found their expertise and experience to be exemplary.”
“B-But Wrexford . . .” Her hands tightened on the documents. “These are patently false.”
“They are impeccably official,” he corrected. “Anyone seeking to corroborate them will find everything in order.”
“Ye gods.” Closing her eyes, Charlotte expelled a harried exhale.
“Come, Mrs. Sloane. In this case, pragmatism must assuage any twitches of tender conscience. At some point, you may be asked uncomfortable questions about the boys. These documents show you and your husband took on official guardianship of Master Thomas Ravenwood Sloane and Master Alexander Hawksley Sloane during their infancy.”
“But . . .” She read over the ornate script a second time. “But Anthony had no such gentry relatives in County Durham.”
“He does now,” replied Wrexford calmly.
Charlotte looked to be struggling for an answer.
“It’s all in the best interest of the lads,” he murmured.
“I know that. And I’m grate—” Another sigh.
“That is, it’s extraordinarily kind of you to have anticipated what problems might lie ahead.
” She smoothed a palm over the thick parchment.
“I confess, I’ve been worrying about how to deal with this.
It’s the first question that will be asked by my relatives. ”
“And now you have a perfectly good answer.” Wrexford allowed a small smile. “Put the documents away in a safe place. If anyone ever demands proof of your relationship to the boys, it’s there in all its bureaucratic glory.”
She looked up. “Thank you, Wrexford.”
“You are most welcome.” He sat back. “I’ll have a private word with the Weasels and explain the importance of understanding the facts contained in the documents, and the need to repeat them unerringly whenever asked.”
“Yes, but you know Raven can be . . .” She bit her lip. “He can be stubborn about these things.”
“You may leave Raven to me,” replied Wrexford.
At last, a smile from her. “In this case, I shall gladly do so.”