Chapter 28
Christian led the way down the hall, fighting not to turn to look back.
Like Orpheus and Eurydice, he thought wryly. Desperate to look back but knowing that looking back would ruin everything.
At last, they reached their destination, a small reading room set just up the hall from the ballroom. It was kept open during parties in case anybody needed to retreat from the crush for a moment or two.
If anybody was in there now, Christian fully intended to throw them out. Politely, of course, but firmly.
The reading room, thankfully, was empty. A candelabra burned on a low table, with bookshelves and chairs arranged neatly around. He turned to face Thalia. She was twisting her fingers together, staring off into the distance. He tilted his head, waiting for her to look up at him.
“Well?” he prompted gently. “What is it you had to speak to me about?”
She stared at him for a moment.
“I’ve been wondering how to explain this all day,” she murmured, half to herself. “But now that the moment’s here, I don’t know where to begin.”
Christian took a step closer, carefully taking her hand in his own. “I know we have had our differences,” he said carefully, “but really, Thalia, I—”
“Your son is alive,” she blurted out.
He blinked. The words echoed in his head for a moment, their meaning gradually coming together. His mouth had gone dry.
“What?” he croaked. “What did you say, Thalia?”
She swallowed, meeting his eyes squarely.
“Your son is alive, Christian. Laura was right. They did not die in a carriage accident. I suspect that there was never an accident. I guess that your father sent his oldest, most loyal servant along with them to make sure they kept to their end of the bargain. Sophie lived, Christian. After she died of a fever, her son went back to England. Back to St. Sarah’s. He’s there now.”
The world tilted around Christian. He staggered, nearly collapsing onto one of the chairs.
“I don’t understand,” he breathed. “How… how could this be?”
“The boy told me the story. I checked the facts with Sister Abigail, and they’re all true. But of course, they don’t know that you’re his father.” She let out a ragged breath. “He’s at the orphanage. You’ve met him already.”
My son.
Christian curled his hands into fists, fighting down the tide of emotion.
Anxiety, terror, delight, relief, excitement—they all swirled together, producing a dizzying, nauseating effect.
His gaze focused on Thalia again, and a pang of affection rolled through him.
Stepping forward, he reached out, cupped her cheek, and leaned in to kiss her.
Her hand came up, fingertips pressing against his lips and gently pushing him back.
“No,” she said, quietly but firmly. “Not because you are grateful to me, Christian.”
“That’s not it.”
“Nevertheless,” she insisted. “I’m not sure my heart can take it. I’m going back to my brother’s house, but I want you to come to the orphanage tomorrow and meet your son.”
“And will you be there?”
She hesitated. “I… I don’t know. I’m not sure it’s appropriate.”
“Thalia,” he murmured, voice low, “I want you there.”
She looked away, so he reached out and gently curled his fingers around her chin, tilting her face up to his.
“I want you there,” he repeated, as softly as he could.
She swallowed and nodded tightly. “Then I’ll be there,” she relented.
Pulling her chin out of his grip, she gave him a wry smile and then slipped out of the room.
Anxiety jumped through Christian’s veins. He stretched out his legs, shifted in his seat, and moved his arms, but nothing helped him settle. The jolting of the carriage didn’t help either, but that was his own fault. He’d instructed the driver to go as quickly as was safely possible.
Closing his eyes, he conjured up a memory of Celestia and Laura standing on the doorstep, anxiously staring after him. Laura had wrapped up a couple of books from the library, adventure stories that she thought the boy might like. Celestia’s gift, a hamper of cakes, sat on his other side.
He had told his mother and sister the whole truth as soon as he could. It seemed right. No more secrets. Not anymore.
The carriage rolled to a halt, and his heart thumped harder than ever. He sat still, swallowing and trying to compose himself, until the footman jumped down from the driver’s seat and swung open the door.
He climbed out, feeling as if his body belonged to someone else. A nun waited for him at the top of the stone steps, the same tall, cool-eyed one he’d met before.
“It’s Sister Abigail, is it not?” he questioned.
She inclined her head. “You are welcome, Your Grace. I understand that you are here to see Alex?”
“I am. Is… is Thalia here? The Duchess, I mean.”
Was he giving himself away? Most likely.
The nun’s expression did not change. “Yes. Her Grace is already in the playroom. I’ll lead the way.”
She’s here, he thought with immense relief as he followed the nun through endless corridors and through large, shabby rooms. She kept her word. She didn’t let me down.
Sister Abigail paused in front of a wide door, then pushed it open. Inside appeared to be a playroom of sorts, designed to accommodate dozens of children at once. At the moment, however, there were only two people inside.
There was Thalia, sitting cross-legged on the floor with her skirts flaring around her, playing a game of marbles with a familiar-looking boy. He was one of the boys Christian had met before, the quieter of the two.
Alex.
His throat tightened.
How did I not see it before? I can see Sophie in the set of his chin and the color of his hair, but those are my eyes.
Clearing his throat, Christian stepped forward. Both looked up sharply. Behind him, the nun retreated tactfully, closing the door behind her.
For a moment, there was silence.
“Good morning, Alex,” Christian greeted eventually, voice rough. “I’ve brought you gifts. Sweets from my mother and books from my sister.”
Alex’s wary expression brightened. “Books?”
“Adventure books. She thought you’d like them.”
“Alex loves to read,” Thalia murmured, offering a quick, approving smile.
Feeling very much as if he were trying to tame a skittish animal, Christian stepped forward, setting down the hamper and the books on the floor.
Alex rose uncertainly to his feet, eyeing him thoughtfully. Assessing him.
His mother did that. She always got the measure of a person before she spoke to them, Christian thought, biting his lip. Clever boy.
“Are you really my father, then?” Alex asked, breaking the silence.
Christian nodded slowly. “Yes, it seems that I am.”
“But… but nobody is to know?”
He frowned. “Why would it be a secret?”
Alex twisted his fingers together. “One of the sisters said that you might not want people to know that you have a son already. She said that it might damage your reputation, and that I should try and be obliging if you want it to remain a secret.”
Christian bit the inside of his cheek. “I already have a lot of secrets, Alex. They’re very tiresome. I don’t like them. I don’t want to have any more. I am not ashamed of you, so I shan’t hide anything. I don’t mind if all of London knows that you’re my son.”
Something in Alex’s face relaxed. “Mother always said that you might be a little ashamed of us,” he murmured. “I’m glad that it isn’t true.”
“So am I.” Christian nodded, crouching down before him. “I thought it might be nice for you to come and live with me, Alex. It would be a good way to get to know each other, don’t you think? And you can meet your grandmother and aunt—they’re very excited to meet you.”
Alex’s eyes went wide. “Really? I could come live with you?”
Christian nodded. “If you wish it.”
Joy passed over Alex’s face, only to fade a little. “But what about my other family?”
“Other family?” Thalia queried.
“I mean Nicholas and Sophia,” Alex murmured, glancing at her. “I’ll miss them. Sophia said that since none of us had any siblings, we should pretend that we were all siblings. I’ll miss them.”
“Well…” Thalia shifted closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “You will still see them, won’t you? They can come visit. They can stay with you for sleepovers. Wouldn’t that be nice? You don’t have to stop loving somebody just because you don’t see them every day.”
Alex wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. “No, I suppose not.”
She kissed his temple. “You can have a good life, Alex. You deserve it.”
Alex nodded tightly and glanced up at Christian again. “Shall I show you the dormitories?” he suggested, suddenly hit by inspiration. “I have some books and, of course, the marbles you gave me. And I can show you the playground, too. There’s a secret spot in the tree where you can hide things.”
“I would love to see all of that,” Christian responded gravely. A tightness was spreading through his chest, a new feeling that he was not quite sure how to manage.
My son. This is my son.
Alex darted forward, wrapping his arms around Christian’s waist and squeezing him tightly. Then he pulled back just as quickly, reddening.
Thalia met Christian’s eyes and gave a small, wry smile. “I think I shall leave you two alone,” she murmured. “Goodbye, Christian.”
He seized her arm as she walked by. “I would like to see you tonight,” he whispered. “We have to talk.”
Uncertainty warred with longing in her eyes. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because we don’t have anything to say to each other.”
“I beg to differ. We have plenty to say.”
Her shoulders sagged. “Very well,” she relented. “When?”
“About ten o’clock. I’ll send my carriage for you. It seems appropriate after all. It’ll honor our first scandalous meeting.”
Thalia gave a quick nod and made for the door.
As he heard the door click shut behind her, Christian turned back to Alex, who was studying him with the same curious expression.
“What’s your favorite food?” he asked.
Christian smiled.
Yes, he is certainly my son.
Thalia had considered not getting in the carriage. It would be easy to avoid. She could simply not go out.