Anne had left for her wedding trip the morning before, and my eyes were still scratchy from crying. I thought I was prepared for this. Apparently, I thought wrong.
The high noise level was due to the vaulted ceilings of the great room, which added to my concerns. Children were rambunctious, and they were expected to meet their classmates eagerly. Harry wasn’t one of those children. Inside, my turmoil was worse than the typhoons I read about in the South China Sea. I wasn’t sure how I managed not to sob like a child every second of this day, but I needed to be strong for Harry. One of his strengths was sensing other people’s weaknesses, and if he knew of my upset,hewould become more upset.
Harry had been quiet most of the tour and stuck close to his brother’s side. Atticus had been doing his best to help Harry by being enthusiastic about the surroundings and telling stories about when he attended.
Rex had chimed in, and between the two men, Harry seemed to relax as much as Harry could relax. His only outward indication that he was uncomfortable was the twitching of his left hand. He had a habit of tapping it against surfaces whenhe was nervous. It had beaten a steady rhythm on his leg throughout our morning.
Another family passed with their boy in tow, his brown hair flopping over his forehead. He was about Harry’s age and talking non-stop to his parents, his excitement palpable. We exchanged smiles.
“Oy mate,” the boy said to Harry with a friendly smile.
My son simply stared at him for a long moment. The boy’s smile fell. I held my breath, willing Harry to speak. Rex laid his hand on Harry’s shoulder, giving him a squeeze.
Harry shot his hand out, a determined jut to his jaw. “Lord Harry Smythington.”
“A pleasure, name’s Mr. Thomas Lloyd.” The other boy shook his hand before dropping it. “Friends call me Tommy.”
His parents and I shared a pleased look, my relief strong. Perhaps Harry might fit in after all.
“My father is a duke,” Harry announced, looking from me to Rex. “My brother will be a duke someday. But Father isn’t dead yet, so that will be a while.”
Lloyd’s parents seemed confused and intimidated all at once. The headmaster lowered his head, a decided smile on his lips. Atticus rubbed his forehead.
Rex’s chuckle diffused the situation. “I am very much alive. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lord Rex, the Duke of Smythington, and this is my wife, Lady Eleanor. It is a pleasure to meet you all.”
“Your graces, a pleasure for us as well,” Mr. Lloyd said.
Mrs. Lloyd bobbed a curtsy. “I am sure our boys will be great friends.”
“I hope so.” I prayed that would happen and my fears would be for not. While on the outside Harry seemed normal, I was still concerned about our decision to let him attend here. I didn’t know if it was mother’s intuition or a selfish reluctance to havemy last child leave the home, except I didn’t have a good feeling about Harry being here. I knew it was silly, so I kept a hold of my tongue and said nothing.
“The rest of the first year families will receive their dormitory assignments in the chamber off the great hall,” the headmaster told the Lloyds, effectively dismissing them. The men had already seen Harry’s dormitory, which was the same one Atticus had lived in as Rex had before him. Women weren’t allowed in the dormitory thus I had to assume the room was adequate for his needs.
The family disappeared before Randall addressed us, “That concludes our tour.”
“Thank you, headmaster, that was very informative,” I said. While I was glad it was over, I wished it could continue for days. If that were the case, I could put off leaving Harry.
“Thank you for your time. I guess there is nothing left except for us to say goodbye to our son,” Rex said.
The headmaster offered a bow before he left our company.
The parents would be asked to leave once the boys had their dormitory assignments. I had gone through this with Atticus without reservations. He was a good boy—no, he was a man.
The time for us to leave was at hand, and my knees began to quiver. I couldn’t believe I was about to say goodbye to my youngest son.
After much debate, Rex and I had determined it would be more beneficial for Atticus to see his brother back to the dormitory before he went to the Oxford campus. Harry tended to be more mature around his brother than with Rex.
“I guess we will be leaving.” I bent down until I was at eye level with Harry. “Atticus will see you to your room, and he will come to see you often.”
Harry nodded and laid a hand on my sleeve. “Yes, Mama. You needn’t worry about me.”
“No, I needn’t, but I worry about all my children,” I said, smiling for his benefit. Unlike my parents, I had seen to their every physical and emotional need. “It is what parents do for their children.” With one last caress to his cheek, I stood and reached for Atticus. “Thank you, my love.” Love for my oldest son bloomed. I dare not do more than hold his hand for fear of embarrassing him in public.
“He will be fine,” Atticus assured me, his fingers squeezing mine before he dropped them. “You should return to London before it turns dark.”
Except we weren’t heading to our London home yet. Flynn had booked a private suite at the Stratham Hotel where we would explore our mutual passions without fear the servants would walk in on us. Flynn had assured me the owner was discreet and would see to our every need.
“Come on, Harry, let’s join the rest of the boys.” Atticus nudged his brother in the direction of the anteroom off the great hall.
