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.
