Chapter 26
“Well, this hasn’t been quite what we hoped it would be,” Reeves murmured to Norman.
Hours had gone by. The two men stood at the front door as people made their way out, stopping to thank Reeves for the ball or to get one last look at his scar.
Reeves gritted his teeth in frustration.
It was galling to be stared at like this, but it was almost over.
Much more maddening was the fact that they hadn’t managed to come any closer to discovering who had been responsible for Emma’s kidnapping.
He wanted answers badly, and, without realizing it, he’d begun to pin his hopes on getting some of those answers tonight.
Emma came running up to him, a smile having returned to her face. She held a book in her hands, and as she approached, she lifted it to show him. It was a book of fairy tales, one he had read to her in her youth. He hadn’t seen it in years.
“You found that in the library?” he asked her.
She nodded eagerly.
“I didn’t even know where it was,” Reeves admitted. “Do you want me to read you a story from this book tonight?”
Emma responded by embracing the book tightly. Reeves couldn’t help but smile. Even when she wasn’t talking, it was such a source of joy for him to see her happy like this. It made him believe that things would one day be all right for them again.
“I’m heading out,” Gareth said, coming up alongside them. “Listen, Reeves—I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”
“No, it’s all right.” Reeves could hardly be angry at Gareth for making the same mistake he himself had made. “We’re all finding our way through this. I know you were only trying to help.”
Gareth clapped him on the shoulder. Then he bent down and pulled Emma into an embrace.
Emma stiffened. Reeves supposed it was easier for him to forgive Gareth’s earlier behavior than it was for his daughter, but she bore through the hug until Gareth released her and stood upright again.
“I’ll see you soon enough,” Gareth said to them. “We really ought to spend more time together. Don’t you agree, Emma?” He smiled at her. “I’ll see about coming over some day this week. That ought to be fun.”
He winked, then inclined his head respectfully toward Reeves and took his leave.
Emma leaned her head into Reeves’ hip for just a moment, then turned and scurried off in the direction of the stairs.
“Is she all right?” Norman asked, watching her go.
“I think she’s just had enough, that’s all,” Reeves said. “This has been a very hectic evening. Maybe I made a mistake by having her present at the ball. Maybe she wasn’t ready for that.”
“I think it was good for people to see her well, if nothing else,” Norman said. “Do you want to go speak with her?”
“I really shouldn’t. Not while so many guests are still here.”
“There aren’t that many. I can bid the rest of them good evening on your behalf,” Norman assured him.
“Are you sure? I don’t know that I can ask you to do such a thing—it really isn’t your responsibility.”
“I’m happy to do it,” Norman said. “And everyone will understand. They know you just got her back. Of course, you want to make sure she’s doing all right after a night like this. In fact, I think people will respect it. It shows a new side of you—a tenderness people haven’t had the chance to see.”
“Not exactly what I’m trying to put on display,” Reeves grumbled. Tenderness?
But even so, he wasn’t about to pass up on an opportunity to put this ball behind him and go spend time with his daughter. “Thank you,” he said to Norman. “Please give everyone my thanks for being here tonight.”
“Of course,” Norman nodded. “And give Emma my love.”
As Reeves left the foyer, he glanced into the ballroom, where the last few stragglers were still standing around and discussing the night’s events.
Bridget was there, standing by the door that led out to the patio.
She was facing away from him, so she didn’t see him linger for a moment, his eyes tracing over the curve of her neck and the way her dress narrowed at her waist before flaring out again.
She would have no way of knowing about the heat that rose in his stomach, in his chest, at the mere sight of her.
He hurried onward. It wouldn’t be a good thing if she caught him standing here and staring.
Up in the bedroom, he found that Emma had already changed into her nightgown. She sat at the foot of her bed with her legs crossed and the book in her lap.
Reeves went over and sat down beside her on the bed. “Well,” he said, “tonight was a bit of an adventure, wasn’t it?”
She hung her head.
“Did you enjoy yourself at all?” he asked her quietly.
She looked up and met his eyes.
“Yes,” she whispered.
It was barely audible, but even so, the sound of her voice floored him. She finally spoke. He wanted to grab her in an embrace and dance her all around the room. He wanted to ask her right here and now what she could tell him about her kidnapping.
But he couldn’t. Bridget’s voice sounded in his head. If you push her, she’ll only withdraw again. Make her feel safe.
He put an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him.
“What did you like?” he asked her.
A long pause, and he thought she might not answer, but then she spoke again. “When you danced with Bridget.”
He looked down at her. “You saw that? I thought you were in the library when we danced.”
A mischievous smile crossed her face. She shook her head.
“You snuck back out and watched?”
She nodded, grinning broadly now.
“Well, I suppose that makes sense,” Reeves said. “I’m glad you were out enjoying the ball, even if you didn’t feel like socializing with our guests.
A worried expression crossed Emma’s face like a shadow.
He guessed at what was troubling her. “It’s all right that you chose to go away for a while,” he said.
“I didn’t expect you to talk tonight. Actually, I’m very pleasantly surprised that you did, even though it was just here with me.
You don’t need to speak to the guests, though.
I’m not upset at you for distancing yourself from them. ”
Emma nodded, though she still looked mildly perturbed.
“Should we read the book?” he asked her.
She hesitated.
“Is there something else? If you want to say something, you can. I’ll be patient,” he promised. “You can take as long as you need to find the words.”
She hung her head for a moment.
Reeves wanted to prompt her to guess at what it was she might be trying to say. He wanted to help her get the words out. But he held himself back. If it were going to happen, she would have to do it herself. He had promised her that he would wait as long as she needed him to, after all.
And finally, she spoke again, her voice still quiet, but clear. “Are you going to send Bridget away?”
He sighed and tightened his arm around her shoulders. “You’d like her to stay, wouldn’t you?”
Emma nodded fervently.
“Bridget’s been a big help to us," he said. “I’ll never forget that. But we can’t ask her to give up her work at the orphanage.
She helps so many children there. I’m so grateful that she was willing to take time away from that work to come be with you for as long as she has—but we do need to be understanding about the fact that she has an important role there.
She needs to go back, and we need to let her. ”
He saw tears come into his daughter’s eyes and felt like his heart was going to break. “I know you don’t want her to go.”
Emma shook her head.
“I don’t want her to go either,” he admitted.
It was the first time he had said that, even to himself.
“But we must let her. She only agreed to come with us temporarily—you know that. We wouldn’t want to make her feel as if she has to stay here longer than she intended.
She wants to get back to her life. We need to be understanding about that. You see that, don’t you?”
Emma nodded slowly and cuddled into his side, burying her face in his shoulder.
He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Thank you for speaking to me today,” he murmured.
It took everything he had in him not to ask the million questions that clamored in his mind. More than anything, he wanted those answers. He took a deep breath and picked up the book of fairy tales instead. “Have you chosen a story for us?” he asked.
She flipped the pages of the book and stopped on a familiar image, pointing to it.
“Jack and the Beanstalk?”
She nodded.
“You know, this was always your favorite when you were a little girl,” he recalled. “We must have read it a hundred times. Do you remember that?”
She crawled into his lap and tucked herself under his chin in response, and Reeves was filled with warmth.
For the first time since she had come home, he felt a sense of familiarity.
Here was the daughter he had known all her life.
She might have been hurt by what had happened to her, and he might have a fight to try to bring her back to him, but she was still in there.
He could still recognize her. It was a breath of fresh air in the middle of all this turmoil.
He began the story, falling into the familiar cadence.
He could have recited it from memory, so many times had they read it together, and he didn’t need to pay strict attention to the pages.
He focused instead on the joy of having his daughter close to him.
The way she relaxed into his arms—he’d thought that might be lost to him forever, but it wasn’t.
She was home, and she was comfortable and knew that she was safe with her father.
It meant more to him than he could ever have imagined anything would.
As he read on, he saw her eyelids flutter closed. A moment later, her breathing became deep and even, and Reeves knew that she had fallen asleep.
The warmth that grew within him could have lit the whole house.
He didn’t dare move. He didn’t stop reading.
It was so clear that she felt safe tonight, perhaps safer than she had since before her kidnapping, and Reeves would do nothing to spoil that moment.
He finished the story and began the next one, turning pages, the words spilling out.
He lost track of what he was doing. He forgot to notice how long he had been here with her.
The only thing that mattered was the fact that they were together. Emma was in his arms, and she was still herself.
Bridget had been right all along. The only thing she had really needed was time—time, and a little patience. And now that Reeves knew it was working, he would be able to go on providing those things. It would be no problem at all.
Emma really was going to be all right.
Every muscle in his body seemed to relax at once, and a tremor of sheer relief passed through him, so powerful that he was sure he was going to wake her.
But Emma slept on.