Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
The afternoon following her walk with Matilda, Charles and Henry arrived at Tamsin’s new home unannounced and before visiting hours.
As they were family, the footman immediately showed them to the sitting room at the back of the house, where Tamsin was reading a book lent to her by her mother-in-law, who had gone out to visit a friend.
Her first reaction upon seeing her brothers was not delight.
It was alarm.
She rose so quickly the book resting open across her lap slid to the floor. “Charles? Henry? What happened?”
Charles stopped a step inside the room, smile frozen on his face before he chuckled and came the rest of the way toward her, bending to kiss her cheek. “Good afternoon to you as well, Baroness.”
“Charles.” She pulled back and glared, glancing quickly at Henry. “Tell me at once.”
Her elder brother sighed as he bent to pick up her book. “Nothing happened, Tamsin. Tell her, Henry.”
She looked to her little brother and held her hands out, ready to receive him.
Henry went to her immediately. “I wanted to visit you.”
The words struck directly at the portion of Tamsin which had spent the last two days wondering whether wanting to be needed by him was itself part of the problem. She decided in this moment, rather rebelliously, that she did not care.
He was getting too big for this. Not so large she could not hold him, but all elbows and pointy length where once there had been a comfortably portable little scrap of a boy who could be settled against her hip.
Tamsin wrapped both arms around him anyway, and Henry submitted to the embrace with considerably better grace than he would have shown had any of his brothers been watching.
Except, of course, Charles was.
Tamsin caught his expression over Henry’s shoulder. He watched them both with his brow furrowed, and she could not tell if he disapproved or was merely concerned.
“What is that look for, Charles?” She gently released Henry, who remained standing close enough to lean his shoulder against her.
“Was I wearing a look? I beg your pardon, it was hardly my intent.” That innocent look did not fool her in the slightest. “It was nothing.”
“Everyone keeps saying that while plainly thinking something.”
Her brother gave her another look—of wide-eyed innocence. “Marriage has made you suspicious.”
Tamsin huffed and absently ran a hand through Henry’s hair. “Marriage has made me acquainted with people who say nothing while thinking a great deal.”
Charles grinned rather impudently. “Hartwell?”
“Frequently.” She looked down at her little brother. “Thank you for coming to visit. Now you have a certain look, so I will ask what it is that you are thinking?”
Henry pulled away from her enough to glance around the room. “Where are the dogs? I would like to see Apollo again.”
“Ah. Of course. I am certain he will be delighted to see you, too.” She went to the garden doors and pushed one open.
“Apollo, Athena, Komm.” The dogs had been playing in the garden, likely let out earlier by Roman before he disappeared for the day.
She had seen them go and not worried overmuch while reading her book.
They both swung their great heads toward the door and came trotting quickly up the small walk, onto the steps, and into the room panting and wagging their tails, ready to romp indoors as well as out. She narrowed her eyes at them at the same moment they both looked at Henry, ears perked forward.
The boy froze. He’d only seen them outdoors before; they seemed a great deal bigger when inside a closed room. They regarded one another.
“Do you think they remember me?” Henry whispered.
“Yes, of course they do.” Tamsin settled in her chair.
“They remember they like the taste of children,” Charles said at the same time, most unhelpfully.
Henry’s eyes widened.
“Charles.” Tamsin glowered. “They are the gentlest of creatures, and do not eat children. You know that, Henry. You climbed all over them without injury a few weeks ago.”
“I was only jesting,” Charles said lightly.
She cast him another disapproving frown. “You are nearly thirty years old.”
“And still capable of teasing my baby brother.”
Apollo lowered his great head and sniffed in Henry’s direction. His tail wagged and he whined softly. Athena had entirely dismissed the visitors and laid down in front of her mistress, practically on her feet, her usual position of guardianship.
Tamsin smiled. “Say his name, Henry. He is waiting for permission.”
The boy held out his hand, then said, “Come here, Apollo. There’s a good dog.
” Apollo bowed his head and crouched, well aware of his intimidating size, and crept forward to sniff at Henry’s hand, tail wagging softly.
He snuffled loudly, making a great production of it, before looking up at Henry with his big brown eyes.
The little boy’s shoulders loosened. “He does remember me.”
Apollo promptly pushed his enormous head beneath Henry’s hand. Henry startled, then grinned and scratched between the dog’s tall ears. Apollo leaned into him with enough enthusiasm that Henry stumbled sideways.
Charles caught him by the shoulder. “Careful! I believe the beast has decided to lay claim to you.”
Henry laughed, whatever remaining apprehension disappearing. He put both hands on Apollo’s head, rubbing his ears vigorously enough that the dog’s tail began striking the furniture behind him. “He likes that.”
“Most creatures like being adored,” Charles said with a grin, dropping into a chair across the rug without an ounce of decorum, much like he did at their family home.
Tamsin gave him a pointed look.
“What?” He sank deeper into the chair, legs stretched out before him.
“Nothing.” She smirked. It was her turn to keep her thoughts to herself and see how he liked it.
The man didn’t seem the least perturbed and grinned without any hesitation. “I see marriage has made you judgmental as well as suspicious.”
“No more than I was judgmental before.” And she would venture to argue, very little. She much preferred to leave judgment to others and focus instead of what needed doing.
“That is true.” He sighed and sat up straighter, putting an elbow on the arm of the chair and his chin in his hand. “You are likely far too spare in your criticisms of the people around you, Tamsin.”
Now that was unexpected.
Apollo abandoned Henry abruptly and trotted toward the basket of canine toys kept in the corner of the room. He returned with his cricket ball clamped between his teeth and dropped it at Henry’s feet.
The child looked delighted. “He wants to play?”
“It appears that way,” Charles said with a grin. “Good thing you are first rate on the cricket pitch.”
Henry snatched up the ball and prepared a toss, but Tamsin quickly added, “Out in the garden, Henry—and mind you do not throw it toward windows.”
Her brother stepped to the still-open door and threw the ball gently. It hit the ground quickly and rolled, making it only a few feet. Apollo pursued it with undiminished enthusiasm.
Charles watched with raised eyebrows. “Not particular about the quality of the game, is he?”
She couldn’t help but grin. “Fortunately for Henry. And the windows.”
“I heard that!” Henry called.
“You were meant to.” Tamsin smiled as Henry bent to pick up the ball, deposited with a fair amount of the dog’s drool upon it. He bowled it out again, farther this time, and Apollo happily chased after it.
Tamsin lowered her voice as she looked at Charles. “Did Father send you?”
“No.” Charles kept his chin in his hand, staring at her without any semblance of urgency in his tone or expression.
“Mother?”
“No.” This time he frowned, though it was slight.
Her curiosity grew. “Then why are you the one who brought Henry?”
“I was at Sycamore Lodge.” He kept his gaze steady. “I heard about the discussion around Henry going away to school.”
That made her drop her hands into her lap. “From Father?”
Slowly, Charles shook his head. “From Henry.”
Tamsin looked toward her little brother, just outside the doorway, and raised her voice. “You told Charles about your school idea?”
Henry, crouched beside Apollo in an attempt to wrestle the ball from his slobbery mouth, shrugged. “He asked me how I was getting on. So I told him, and he actually listened.”
Charles gave the smallest shrug, evidently finding nothing remarkable in asking a child why he wanted to leave home.
Perhaps there wasn’t. But it was quite out of character for her older brother to take an interest in the Mayweather household affairs. He was always so silent when the family discussed anything bordering on the unpleasant, if he did not slip away entirely.
The thought of him paying enough attention to ask Henry anything about the boy’s state surprised her enough she had to clarify. “Did you ask him why he wanted to go?”
“Of course I did.” Charles’s brows drew together. “If a child wants to leave home, especially a boy of Henry’s good sense, there must be a reason, mustn’t there?” He nodded at Henry. “Do you want to tell her?”
Henry finally succeeded in pulling the ball from Apollo’s mouth and avoided looking at them both. “I want to go to school.”
“Yes, darling, we know that.” Tamsin kept her voice gentle. “What I do not know is why you wish to go now.”
Henry frowned at the ball. “Edward goes.”
“Yes, he does.” Edward was also thirteen years old, but her brother knew that.
The boy tossed the ball again. “He says he likes it.”
Was that all? Why was Henry being as evasive as everyone else of late? Why could no one simply explain themselves? Tamsin kept herself from sounding frustrated. Barely. “Yes, I know. But Henry—”
The boy spoke quickly, “He has friends there.” He knelt to get the ball again, though he wiped his hand on his trousers after picking it up. “People to play with. And they do things besides classes, too.”
Charles gave her a smirk, plainly expecting her to understand his point.
Tamsin ignored him. It could not be so simple as that, surely. “What sorts of things?”
Henry shrugged. “Things.”