Chapter 9
Nine
Howard had never put much stock in the wonders of the season, which so many people rhapsodized about at Christmas.
He had always enjoyed the holiday for its food and drink, and now for the Christmas ball that Thurleigh and Haythorne were hosting at The Chameleon Club.
But that particular year, as he greeted another new day, the fourth in a row now, in bed with Yves in his arms, he felt entirely different about the holiday and the world in general.
“Are you certain you feel up to venturing out to your sister’s house today?” he asked Yves as they greeted the morning with snuggles and soft kisses while the fire he’d quickly gotten up to build crackled away in his grate.
Yves smiled and nuzzled against Howard’s beard. “I am ready for anything as long as I can face it with you.”
Howard laughed. Yves was telling the truth.
The last three days, since their midnight outing, had included further attempts to step outside and face the world.
At first, Yves had only managed to stand on the terrace in front of The Chameleon Club, watching as carriages and people attempted to walk through the snow that had fallen during the night.
Less than six inches had fallen, but it was enough to make moving about slow going.
Yves had stood in it watching the world for a good hour, however, and when they’d come back inside to enjoy mugs of hot chocolate, he declared that he’d only felt slightly anxious.
The next day, he’d ventured across the street into Hyde Park.
The snow had begun to melt and the paths were a muddy mess, but Yves had enjoyed his walk all the same.
Not a single police officer had rushed at him to arrest him and cart him off to Newgate, and one even touched the brim of his hat to Yves and smiled as they walked.
Christmas Eve had seen their most daring outing yet.
A few of the members of The Brotherhood had banded together to take gifts of food to one of the local workhouses.
Howard was convinced Yves’ gentle temperament would not last more than five minutes inside that wretched place.
He’d been wrong, however, Yves was deeply moved by the plight of the poor, but he found strength Howard did not know he had to deliver the food and share a few words of thanks and celebration with the poor souls trapped in their misery.
Howard loved him even more for it all. Especially since Yves had talked of nothing else but ways they might make an attempt to alleviate the worst of the wretchedness for at least some people.
Now it was Christmas Day, and the feast that Mrs. Cavanaugh was preparing awaited them.
“What if Yvette is angry with me for staying hidden away for so long?” Yves asked as the two of them rose, washed, and dressed. Doing such domestic things together filled Howard with a sense of simple bliss that came as a complete surprise to him.
He laughed. “From my brief acquaintance with your sister, I doubt very much that she is capable of anger or indignation in any way.”
Yves blushed and laughed sheepishly along with him. “I suppose that is true, but you should have seen Yvette when the two of us were young. There were times when I believed she had more of a backbone than I did.”
“I do not doubt that at all,” Howard said, interrupting his wash to catch Yves and kiss him.
Kissing interrupted their preparations several times.
Howard found that he simply could not get enough of kissing his sweet angel.
Yves’ spirits had improved so much in the last few days as his hopes for a life beyond the walls of The Chameleon Club improved.
It made Howard think of a wealth of ideas for places the two of them could go and endeavors they could set themselves to.
It might have been the first time that Howard had wanted to stay close by the side of a man rather than loving him and leaving him, but it was also the first time he began to frame his life in terms of what the future might hold and what he could do for other people.
Yves fell into a moment of quiet panic as they waited for Ben to bring the carriage around to take them to the Cavanaughs’ house in Fulham.
“What if I lose my nerve and fall into a fit at my sister’s house?” he said quietly as the carriage pulled up.
Howard took his hand, despite the risk of doing so outside. “You will not,” he said. “I’d wager that the moment you see your sister after so long, the two of you will fall into each other’s arms and will weep and lament that you spent so long apart from each other.”
As it turned out, Howard was exactly right. Yves fidgeted through the entire ride to the Cavanaughs’, nearly upsetting the footwarmer of hot coals on the floor between them in his anxiety. Once they reached the Cavanaughs’ simple but elegant house, however, Yves’ fears evaporated.
“Yves!” Mrs. Cavanaugh called out as soon as the maid opened the door, admitting Howard and Yves. She threw her arms wide and flew at her brother.
Yves was immediately affected by the enthusiasm of his sister’s welcome. “Yvette!” Yves nearly sobbed as he opened his arms to catch her.
Howard’s throat constricted with sentiment as he watched the siblings embrace. His eyes stung with happy tears as Yves lifted his twin off her feet and spun her around in pure joy.
“It is over,” Mrs. Cavanaugh said, weeping openly when Yves set her on her feet again. “Guillame’s reign of terror is over at last. You can be free to join us and live whatever life you’d like now.”
“We shall see,” Yves said, though he was laughing and wiping tears from his eyes simultaneously as he did.
Howard greeted Mrs. Cavanaugh much more sedately, though she was almost equally as glad to see him as she was her brother.
“Thank you so very much for bringing our Yves home to us,” she said, shaking Howard’s hand profusely, then leading them farther into the house, to a cozy, family parlor at the back.
The parlor was already crowded with people and decorations. Mrs. Cavanaugh had been as enthusiastic with her boughs of holly and ivy as she’d been with her greetings. Bright red and gold bows accented the greenery, and candles burned merrily on the mantlepiece, above a cheery fire.
“You remember Phillip, of course,” Mrs. Cavanaugh said, bringing Yves over to her husband.
Howard held his breath for a moment as he watched the two men meet, nod, and shake hands.
Mr. Cavanaugh was a grocer and quite intelligent, if Howard’s initial assessment of the man held true.
Yvette might have been completely accepting of her brother for who he was, but there was no telling whether Mr. Cavanaugh would be kind or another Guillame.
Those worries were put to rest straight away.
“Mr. Clermont, it is so good to see you again, and looking so fit and happy, I might add,” he said, his smile full of kindness.
“Thank you,” Yves said in return, his face pink with uncertainty. “I have been…these last few years…I did not intend to stay secluded for so long.”
“Think nothing of it,” Cavanaugh said, letting go of Yves’ hand and stepping back to stand by his wife’s side, resting his hand on the small of her back. “We are overjoyed that you have joined us today.”
Howard smiled, deciding right then and there that Yves’ family were good people and that he was entirely safe with them. So much so that he began to worry that Yves would not want anything to do with him anymore, rake and wanderer as he was.
He maintained an outwardly cheery appearance as he was introduced formally to Mrs. Charlotte Clermont, Guillame’s widow, and her two sons, William and James.
Both Mrs. Clermont and her boys seemed more subdued than was usual for family at Christmas, but the reason for their quietness was understandable.
Yves was more than happy to be reacquainted with his brother’s widow and with his nephews.
In fact, as the family settled into the parlor to talk about old times and to look forward to new, Yves became something of a favorite of all his nieces and nephews.
The eldest of the Cavanaugh children, a boy named Albert, who could not have been more than four, even climbed off of his father’s lap to deposit himself on Yves’.
“You are a natural with children,” Mrs. Cavanaugh observed, beaming at her brother. “Albert does not take so quickly to strangers most of the time.”
“But Mr. Clermont is not a stranger at all,” Cavanaugh said. “He is family.”
The comment left Howard beaming.
At first.
As the day wore on and the family gathered around the table to fill themselves with the feast Mrs. Cavanaugh and the young maid had prepared, his feelings began to take a different turn.
“What a magnificent goose,” Yves commented his sister’s cooking with a broad smile as Mr. Cavanaugh began to carve.
“We have been most blessed this year,” Cavanaugh said proudly. “The shop has been engaged in an exceptional amount of trade. I’ve even been considering expanding to a second premises. You wouldn’t want to leave your accountancy life behind to become a grocer, would you, Clermont?”
“Oh, what a splendid idea,” Mrs. Cavanaugh said, clasping her hands to her heart.
“I…I know nothing at all about the grocery business,” Yves said, blushing and stammering and glancing to Howard for approval.
“But you are such a brilliant accountant,” Yvette complimented him.
“It would be an easy thing to learn,” Cavanaugh said. “One would always rather be engaged in business with family than with strangers. Say you’ll think about it.”
“I will think about it,” Yves said, though the way he glanced at Howard was a bit desperate.
That desperation melted again as the feast progressed. Even the widowed Mrs. Clermont engaged with the others in talking about the events of the day and what there was to look forward to. She, too, included Yves in the conversation as if he had never been separated from the bosom of the family.