“Go on,” said Wrexford. “Surely it can’t be as bad as the possibilities that immediately leap to mind.”
“Peregrine has been expelled from Eton,” she explained, “for setting off a stink bomb during the headmaster’s Sabbath Day speech to the upper-division students.”
“A corking good one,” offered Hawk with a hopeful grin. “It made several students puke and—”
A kick from Raven warned that such gory details weren’t helping their cause.
“Mr. Belmont was required to fetch him,” continued Charlotte, “and he came here to explain that he was facing a difficult conundrum . . .”
Wrexford listened intently as she explained about Belmont’s travel plans and his laudable concerns over Peregrine’s well-being if required to live with his aunt, whose prejudice against the boy was no secret.
“And so, when I proposed that Peregrine return to living with us, he readily agreed.”
Wrexford masked his elation with a stern scowl. “I’m disappointed in you, Peregrine. Your actions put your guardian, who has been nothing but kind and fair to you, in a damnably difficult situation.” Knowing that he ought not to be so delighted by the result of the mischief, he added, “Do not think for an instant that behaving badly will always get you what you want—and that goes for all three of you.”
Charlotte drew in a quick breath but remained silent. He didn’t dare glance at her, as he, too, felt his heart clench at seeing them look so remorseful as they struggled to hold back tears.
“That said, lad,” he intoned, “I know that Eton can be a horrid place for any boy interested in intellectual engagement. And I do understand how unhappy and helpless you felt at being trapped in a complicated situation not of your own making. It’s been hard for all of us. But Belmont is trying to do his best, and like it or not, heisyour official guardian—”
“Actually he’s not,” interrupted Charlotte. “At least he won’t be after next week, assuming you approve of the arrangement that I negotiated with him.”
“C-Cousin Belmont has agreed to make you and m’lady my official guardians,” explained Peregrine in a hesitant voice. “T-That is, if you’ll h-have me.”
Wrexford found his throat was too choked with emotion to reply. He swallowed hard . . .
Be damned with words.
In two swift steps he crossed the carpet and pulled the boy into a fierce hug. “My dear Falcon, as if that could ever be in doubt,” he finally managed to say. “Welcome to being a full-fledged member of our family.”
The tears now glittering on every cheek were ones of joy.
“But remember, that now brings both rights and—”
“And responsibilities!” chorused Raven and Hawk.
The earl smiled as the Weasels began cheering their new brother-in-spirit. “Aye, being part of a family means there are responsibilities, lads. And don’t ever forget that.”
Charlotte took a moment to dry her eyes before crouching down to plant a kiss on Peregrine’s cheek. “Well, I think that’s enough excitement for the evening.” She rose, drawing the earl to his feet with her. “Come, Wrex, and let me pour you that whisky.”
* * *
The fire in the hearth had burned down to a mellow glow, the soft whisper of the red-gold coals adding a pleasant undertone to the tranquility of the library. Expelling a sigh, Charlotte let herself sink a little deeper into the soft leather cushions of the armchair, uncertain of how to define her present state of mind.
“Life,” she observed, “can be such a wondrous but contradictory force of nature, bringing both joys and sorrows within a heartbeat of each other.”
“I might not phrase it quite so poetically,” replied Wrexford from his seat at one of the worktables. “But I shall not insult the Three Fates by calling them bad names.”
“A wise choice,” she agreed.
Paper rustled. He was perusing a book—another one of his father’s, guessed Charlotte. Turning her gaze back to the hearth, she watched the subtle changing of the hues . . .pumpkin orange . . . amber gold . . . lucifer red.
The quicksilver flickers seemed to mirror her unsettled mood. Despite having spent the last hour telling Wrexford all about the meeting with the three members of the Revolutions-Per-Minute Society, she found that talking over the nuances of what had—and had not—been said had only made things seem more confusing.
“You seem pensive,” said Wrexford, not looking up.
“At this moment, I should be feeling nothing but pure happiness,” she mused. “And yet . . .”
“Emotions are rarely so black and white. As you just pointed out, life requires us to deal with a multitude of challenges all at once.” The book snapped shut. “The beginning of an investigation is always hard. Possibilities flit around like unseen ghosts. One feels their presence and senses that they are close enough to touch, but when one grabs at them, there’s nothing but air.”
