“I do not wish to keep you,” Chev replied. “I arrived late.”
“Late.” Emmaus paused on the threshold. “One might say, Captain, you arrived just in time.” He disappeared into the twilight.
~~~
Cheverley came instantly awake at the sounds of footsteps in the gravel. His hammock swayed as he jerked upright.
Emmaus’s hammock? Empty. By the light, it was already mid-day.
He reached beneath the balled-up pig’s hide he’d used to fend off the chill and carefully retrieved the knife Emmaus had given him. Silently, he swung his legs over the side of the hammock and stood, parsing the quiet.
The dogs hadn’t barked.
Whomever had arrived, they knew. The tension in his shoulders eased.
“Emmaus?” A young man called. “Emmaus!”
Through hazed glass, a boy’s profile came into view. Rushing awareness seized Chev’s limbs.
He’d never met his son, but he’d seen the angle of the boy’s chin in a lifetime of mirrors and the boy’s hair swept up from a cowlick in the same spot as his, too. The boy’s nose, however—pert, pointed, and slightly upturned—thatwas all his mother.
Elation blended with loss, holding Chev beneath unnavigable currents.
Then, the young man opened the door, and Chev locked eyes with his own. Bittersweet ache seeped to the back of his knees.
Thaddeus hesitated for a moment. His gaze flicked to Emmaus’s empty place.
“Not Emmaus.”
“No,” Chev answered.
The boy’s gaze settled on Chev’s knife, then returned to Chev’s without the slightest hint of fear.
“No need for that,” he said.
Chev set down the knife. Pride flitted through his chest. “Emmaus left before I awoke.”
“He does that,” the boy replied. “Though a preference for night isn’t unusual in these parts.” He held out his left hand. “I am Thaddeus, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
But for the use of his left hand, Chev might have assumed Thaddeus hadn’t noticed his injury.
“Just Thaddeus?” Thaddeus had not used the heir’s title, nor the honorifics ofMasterorLord.
“Well, the servants at Ithwick use ‘Master,’ and Emmaus says ‘Lord’—if only because my cousins refuse. Either will do if you wish to be formal. I choose not to use the heir’s title just in case...” He paused and then changed course. “Anyway, I prefer Thaddeus, Mr.—?”
“Ch—” Chev cleared his throat. “Captain Smith.” He shook his son’s proffered hand. The boy had a fine grip. A man’s grip.
“Captain?!” Thaddeus lifted his brows. “Well, isn’t that a fine thing? We don’t get many officers. Are you a friend of Emmaus?”
For nearly a decade. “We’ve only just met.”
“I’m sure he asked his questions, then.” Thaddeus’s raised his brows. “I don’t suppose you have news of my father, else he would have brought you to my mother at once.”
Chev didn’t trust himself to speak, so he shook his head no.
“Well,” Thaddeus said with a touch too much brightness, “there’s always a chance, now, isn’t there?” He paused briefly. “My mother and I are staying at Ithwick Manor—and we never did so before and, if you’ll pardon, it’s dashed exciting to sleep in my father’s room. I never knew him myself. But I’ve heard plenty about his skill. That’s why I’m here.”
“Oh?” Chev said, hoping Thaddeus didn’t notice the crack in his voice.
