Chapter 31 #2
Together they left the parlor, with Pierce walking beside them, and Margaret found herself thinking how extraordinary the morning had become.
Only hours earlier she had feared losing her husband and child, and now she was walking towards the nursery with a woman who had been part of Hugh's life long before Margaret had ever known his name.
The moment they entered the nursery, Hugh looked up from his toys. His eyes immediately fixed upon Ophelia, and his whole face transformed with recognition. He gave a delighted squeal and reached both arms towards her.
Ophelia stopped dead, one hand flying to her mouth as tears filled her eyes.
"Oh, Hugh," she whispered, rushing towards him.
She scooped him into her arms and hugged him tightly, burying her face against his soft hair as Hugh laughed and clung to her.
"I have missed you so much," she murmured, kissing his cheek again and again. "Look at you. You are so healthy and happy."
She pulled back to study him, smiling through her tears, and then glanced nervously towards Margaret as though afraid she had overstepped some invisible boundary.
"It is safe," Pierce assured her, his voice gentle as he approached. "You need not be afraid."
Ophelia nodded, visibly relaxing, and Hugh reached up to touch her face.
Margaret watched them with an unexpected warmth spreading through her chest. She had worried that seeing Ophelia with Hugh might awaken some instinctive jealousy, some fear that the child would prefer the woman who had first cared for him, but there was none.
Instead, Margaret felt grateful. Hugh had another person who loved him, and that could only be a blessing.
She crouched beside them and touched his little hand.
"He remembers you," she said softly.
Ophelia smiled. "I believe he does. He has always had an excellent memory."
They settled upon the nursery carpet, and before long the three adults were playing with Hugh as he crawled from one to another, laughing whenever someone made an exaggerated face.
Pierce sat with his back against a chair, watching while Hugh attempted to place a wooden block into a small basket.
"He used to do that constantly," Ophelia said, pointing towards the basket. "He would spend ages trying to put things inside it, then become terribly offended when they fell out."
Margaret laughed as Hugh immediately tipped the basket over. "Apparently he has not changed." Ophelia smiled. "Not at all."
Pierce's mouth curved, but Margaret noticed the way his expression softened as he listened. He was fascinated by every small detail, yet beneath his interest she could see the ache of knowing that he had missed those moments.
"He loved the garden," Ophelia continued, picking up a little wooden horse for Hugh. "He always wanted to be outdoors. If he could see sunlight through a window, he would crawl towards it."
Margaret glanced at Pierce, whose gaze remained fixed upon his son.
"He still does," she said warmly. "The moment the weather permits, he wants to be outside."
Ophelia laughed softly. "Then some things truly have not changed."
Hugh squealed as Margaret rolled the wooden horse towards him, and Pierce reached down to retrieve it when the boy sent it skittering beneath a chair.
"What did he like to eat?" Margaret asked, genuinely curious.
Ophelia's eyes brightened with amusement. "He loves berries. He does not like porridge unless there are berries in it."
Margaret laughed. "That explains everything. I have been trying to persuade him to eat plain porridge for weeks."
Pierce raised an eyebrow. "And you eventually won that battle."
Margaret looked at him indignantly. "Completely. Apparently your son possesses strong opinions."
Ophelia smiled. "He always has."
Margaret glanced at Pierce. "I wonder where he inherited that." Pierce gave her a dry look, and Margaret laughed when Ophelia covered her mouth to hide her amusement.
As they continued talking, Pierce asked question after question. "Does he sleep better after being outdoors? Does he dislike loud noises? Did he always laugh this much? Was he fond of music?"
Ophelia answered each one patiently, remembering little details that Margaret treasured as though they were precious jewels. "He settles quickly when someone sings to him," she explained. "And he has always liked being held when he is frightened."
Margaret smiled at that. "That sounds familiar."
Eventually Pierce rose and offered Margaret his hand. "We should leave them together for a while," he said quietly.
Margaret looked towards Ophelia and Hugh, then nodded.
Ophelia seemed surprised. "Are you certain?" she asked.
Margaret smiled warmly. "Of course. You have missed him, and he has missed you in whatever way a child remembers someone. You should have this time together."
Pierce gently guided Margaret towards the door, and before she left, she looked back one last time. Hugh was sitting happily in Ophelia's lap, his little hands tangled in her hair as she laughed.
Margaret stepped into the corridor beside Pierce and quietly closed the door behind them.
For the first time in what seemed like weeks, she felt completely at peace.
There were still mysteries to resolve, wounds that would take time to heal, and a great many things she did not understand about Augusta's past, but Hugh was safe, and Pierce was beside her.
Margaret slipped her hand into Pierce's, resting her head briefly against his shoulder as they walked away.
"She loves him very much," she whispered.
Pierce squeezed her hand. "I know as do I. And I love you."
Margaret smiled. "And I love you," she said.
For once, those words were enough.