I love you, he’d said. Matthew parroted the statement whenever Marigold said it, but Reggie? He held the words close to his chest, sharing his affection sparingly and without discernible reason. But this?
Archie must have recognized the importance of such a declaration, because he studied her, anticipating her response.
“I love you b-both, so much,” she managed after a long moment of calming the throbbing in her throat.
Thebothhad been a careful addition. Because if she was being honest, she’d have to admit that she might love all three of them.
Archie splurged on a hack to carry them from the gardens to the Croydon townhouse, and Matthew fell asleep against his mother’s side before they’d passed the guildhall. Reggie remained seated beside Archie, his gaze darting up on occasion. Once, the boy had almost smiled, the same reluctant tug of the lips that his mother showed so often.
Not now, though. She stared into the middle distance as she stroked her younger son’s hair, smoothing the unruly locks again and again.
He wanted to know what she was thinking with a desperation that felt like a rope tugging behind his sternum. Something had shifted in her, some final piece that kept her from trusting him falling away, and clearly she was rattled by it. Would she let her guard down now? Could he see all of her—not in a physical sense, of course, but in the way he’d seen her the first night they met? He craved that woman, the one who was free and bold, who rescued bees and stole caramels like she stole kisses.
The flirtatious housekeeper was waiting when they arrived, and Archie leaped down from the carriage to assist Marigold with her descent, then together they helped a near-catatonic Matthew and much more alert Reggie enter the house.
“He’s exhausted,” the housekeeper said of Matthew.
“And filthy,” Marigold added, but there was fondness in her tone. “Mrs. Addington, would you help me with a b-bath for him?”
The housekeeper assented and rushed off, and Marigold turned to Archie, lowered her voice. “I know we still need to t-talk about the letters.”
“They can wait.” He glanced into the parlor to see Reggie sitting at the chess board. “Do you think he’ll want to play a game with me?”
She pursed her lips, as though unsure how she should respond. “I think so.” She held his gaze for a long moment, then blinked, looked at her feet. “I should help Matthew—” she gestured to where the boy had curled up into a circle on the settee, “—and ask Mrs. Addington to clean the furniture.”
Archie chuckled. “I’m sorry to have caused a mess. I’m good at that. Should have warned you.”
“I already knew.” That sweet, reluctant smile emerged. “And thank you, again.”
Christ, but he wanted to kiss her. To remind her he would make her happy, would make sure her boys were safe.
But that was not a privilege he’d have.
Once she shuffled a whining Matthew up the stairs, Archie entered the parlor and sat across from Reggie. “Fancy a game?”
Not meeting Archie’s gaze, he started rearranging pieces. “I always play black,” he said without further explanation, so Archie merely nodded, sat, and moved his pawn to king four.
Reggie matched the move.
They each moved three more times before Reggie spoke. “You’re helping my mother divorce my father.”
Archie lifted his knight and placed it on king five. “I am.”
Reggie lifted a black pawn, put it on queen bishop three. “Is she doing this because of me?”
Archie held his queen, let the subtle grooves of the carved ivory play over his rough fingers. “In the way a good mother does, yes. She wants to protect you and your brother.” He put the pawn down, closer to the black king.
Reggie moved his knight. “I should be protecting her. I’m the man of the house now.”
Archie’s insides shifted as his heart bottomed out. He moved his own knight with trembling fingers. “You’re still young, my lord. You’ll have plenty of time to protect her.”
Reggie’s bishop took Archie’s pawn. “I’m not a boy. I can be of use. Mum doesn’t think that, though.”
They made the next several moves in silence while Archie contemplated Reggie’s words, neither claiming a piece from the other. How often had he wished he’d stepped up when he was a lad, protected his mother and sisters from their father’s abuse? Would their lives have been different if he’d taken action?
Should he have urged his mother for a divorce? Would he have testified in a hearing if given the chance?
Reggie claimed another pawn while Archie was distracted.
