“Yes,” he assured her, letting a wave of calm flood the words. “She is all right now. She is my wife. But I know it would mean a lot to her if she had something of her father’s. Is there some trinket, or a book of his that you might part with?”
The husband blinked. “There’s the trunk.”
Kendrick raised an inquiring eyebrow.
“He left a trunk,” Mrs. Cooper said, leaning forward eagerly. “He always hoped she would come home, but he knew we needed the room when the children started coming. So, we packed up all her personal things, and later everything he wanted her to have, and put it in a trunk. It’s in the attic. Dearest, will you?—”
“No need,” Kendrick said, lifting a hand. “I will bring it down if you point me to it.”
Kendrick followed the husband up the narrow stairs to the attic to unearth the dusty camelback trunk with “ESD” stamped on the cover. He wiped some of the grime off the brass plate and touched the keyhole.
“Hetty has the key,” Mr. Cooper assured him.
Kendrick carried the trunk down the stairs to where Mrs. Cooper waited. She held out the small, brass key. “Will you tell her—” She faltered. “We named our son for him—Ezra. And our oldest girl is Jenny. I never forgot what she did for me.”
Kendrick pocketed the key. “She hasn’t forgotten, either. I will tell her that you acted in her stead where she could not, and that you loved her father well.” He let his talent reach out as he caught the eyes of the husband and wife. “I am most grateful to you both. You will not remember much of tonight. But know that she is well and taken care of, and you have discharged this duty. Thank you.”
A puzzled expression crossed both their faces as his persuasion did its work, but they nodded and smiled, Mrs. Cooper with tears in her eyes.
Kendrick left the small, cozy house with the mysterious trunk over his shoulder.Maybe this will be cause for Christmas, after all, Genevieve.
ChapterThirty-Six
Genevieve had spent the last few days sleeping badly and feeling guilty. The first day without Kendrick beside her, she had woken from a nightmare. She had reached for him instinctively and when she had not found his comforting presence, she had plunged into melancholy. To top it all off, every shop was full of evergreen garlands and every person on the street seemed to exude good cheer, and Fletcher had returned at dusk from visiting the children at Dominic’s house to report that “a ruddy great tree” had been installed in the family parlor. The children had excitedly decorated it and hung stockings upon the fireplace. Carmine House had not a garland or festive bow to be seen.
“We going to get some of them gewgaws?” Fletcher wanted to know. “Peter and Hannah could decorate.” He had eyed Genevieve pointedly, which meant he would like to decorate too.
How miserly of her, to deny the children the delight of a fully bedecked Christmas, all because she could not reckon with her feelings towards the season.Scrooge-like, she thought morosely.How ghastly.
She finally squared her shoulders against her—what was it, pride or fear?—and asked Robbie to get them a tree and some greenery, since Kendrick was away.
The tree arrived the next night, so large, it nearly didn’t fit through the door. The three burly human deliverymen had to shove it through the doorway.
“Criffins, watch where you’re going!” Robbie commanded as it nearly careened into a wall. “Here, this way.”
“You gave in, did you?” Elspeth murmured over Genevieve’s shoulder.
“I did.” Genevieve sighed. “Fletcher recruited help.”
“Hannah has very effective puppy-dog eyes.”
“That she does. Let us just hope that Wulfric does not get confused with other trees he prefers to water in the garden.”
“A kissing bough, even,” Elspeth said in an intrigued voice.
“Akissingbough?” Genevieve repeated, her eyebrows flying up. “I said nothing about a kissing bough!”
“Robbie must’ve taking the initiative, then.” Elspeth smiled. “I’ll just tell him where to put it, shall I?”
They had gathered the children and were busily engaged in cutting out paper ornaments and stringing popcorn, a welcome respite from ball preparation, when a voice said, “I’m away for two days and you decide to redecorate?”
The smile that broke across Genevieve’s face at the sound of Kendrick’s voice could not be stifled. Kendrick stood in the doorway, freshly scrubbed of travel dust, watching the goings-on with amused interest.
Genevieve got from the floor to the doorway in a twinkling and wrapped her arms around him.
“Did you miss me?” he murmured in her ear.
“I think I did,” she said in a thick voice. “Oh—a letter came for you yesterday. Let me find it.”
