Chapter 12
Désirée and Jack were ensconced in their usual evening nook in the wine cellar when a footman knocked on the staircase wall, just out of sight.
“Pardon the interruption, sir. A message has arrived.”
“Come in, Hawkins.”
Désirée watched Jack’s face carefully as he accepted the missive from the footman. Although they had only been enjoying post-supper wine together for just over a month, this was the first time they had been interrupted. Something must be amiss.
A muscle worked in Jack’s jaw as he read, then folded the letter. “I’ll have to send a reply at once.”
“His man is waiting at the door, sir, in the hopes of just that.”
Jack glanced at the clock in the corner and winced. “Blast. I don’t know how long this will take, and the twins are expecting their bedtime story. Désirée, can you handle it just for tonight?”
Could she take their father’s place, unexpected and uninvited, to perform their father’s beloved nightly ritual in what was now often the only time the twins enjoyed privately with their father all day?
No. She could not. It was not Désirée they wanted.
“Thank you,” Jack continued without waiting for a reply, and tore up the stairs with his footman trailing close behind.
She rolled back her shoulders and trudged upstairs to disappoint the children.
“Why are you here?” Annie asked when Désirée walked into the room.
“To… read your bedtime story. If you would like me to.”
Frederick narrowed his eyes. “Where’s Papa?”
“He was called to his office to deal with important business.” She took a deep breath. “He is very sorry he cannot read to you tonight. I know it is your special time with him.”
The twins scooted away from each other in the bed.
“You’re practically Papa,” Frederick said.
Annie patted the blank space between them. “Papa always reads lying in the middle.”
Désirée’s eyes stung and her heart seemed too big for her chest. “I… Shouldn’t I fetch the book first?”
The twins exchanged another glance.
“We might’ve already been reading it,” Frederick admitted.
Annie nodded. “We might’ve actually finished it and started on a different book.”
They each pulled a volume out from under their pillow.
“You can read from whichever one you like best,” Annie added helpfully.
Désirée let out a shaky breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and climbed up into the middle of the bed between the two children.
“Why all the subterfuge?”
Annie made a face. “Papa might stop reading to us if he realizes we can do it faster on our own.”
“He knows,” Frederick said darkly.
“I know he knows,” Annie hissed. “But as long as we all pretend nobody knows, things will go on like they always have.”
