After the door shut softly behind him, Maeve picked up her serviette and fiddled with it. “Apologies. I don’t seem to be myself these days.”
Concern filled the brown-green-gold of his eyes. “What is it, my dear?”
Pride flew for the window. The closed window. “It’s stuffy in here.”
“Ah.” He rose and let in some air. “Better?”
Her serviette twisted within her fingers. “I-I don’t understand why you never wish to wake up with me in the morning.” Her humiliation was complete. Her pride had just escaped out the now open window.
Brandon had picked up his coffee, was poised to sip, but his hand stilled.
“Am I that abhorrent?” To her utter dismay, her voice cracked.
His cup clattered to its matching saucer. He was out of his chair and had her in his arms. “How can you believe such a thing?” His mouth crashed over hers. His kiss, possessive and deep. Desperate and reassuring. He broke away and smoothed loosened tendrils from her face.
She laid her head on his shoulder. “Oh, Brandon. I don’t know what is wrong with me. I fear every second for those girls upstairs. I know there are many others we can’t save and it sickens me.” Tears blurred her vision. “Every morning I’m casting up my accounts, worrying someone will attempt to steal them away. But they are children. They can’t be kept holed up here forever without fresh air and exercise.”
“Darling, the reason I haven’t stayed the night is because I’ve been reading Rowena’s journal. Things are coming back to me, just as Dr. Holks’ assured me they would. The memories cannot come fast enough. But wishing it so has not helped. He said they would come in time. Not to force them. And, by God, it seems to be working.”
“I’m so glad,” she whispered. “So very glad.”
He turned her body and pressed her into her chair. “Eat something and tell me what you have planned for the day.”
Like an obedient child, she did as he asked, knowing he wasn’t going to like what she had to say. “I’ve ordered a basket for lunch and have decided to take the children to Hyde Park. It will make a nice, much needed, outing.”
He frowned. “I’m not sure that’s wise.”
The children were not the only ones who needed fresh air and if she didn’t put her foot down now, she’d never win her way. She put her hand up to stay his argument. “The sun is shining, if a bit cold. The baby will stay home. Niall will drive us—”
“And Baird.”
“Who is Baird—oh, the gardener. Really, Brandon.” Her irritation spilled over her. “These unknown servants that keep appearing—”
He leaned over and kissed her to quash her rampage. It was an effective tactic he was using with regularity, she noted. Yet when the fragrance of soap and masculinity and fresh coffee hit her, her defenses melted away like finely spun sugar.
Harlowe conferred with Baird and Niall, then took himself off to Kimpton’s to speak with his sister and her husband. There was the little matter of transporting his current studio from Kimpton House to his new one at Cavendish Square.
He understood exactly how Maeve felt about being confined indoors. Winter, itself, was difficult enough to deal with, what with having the windows closed most of the time. He’d thought about trailing the troupes to the park as well, but his hovering would only make things worse. He had every confidence in Baird. And sending Rory as added precaution to trail along went far in soothing Harlowe’s apprehension.
The urges for opium had lessened over the weeks, and Harlowe was only occasionally struck with his unnatural need, which he ruthlessly shoved away, with his own bouts of exercise and drinking of freshly boiled water. Considerable amounts of water. His wife had been on to something there.
“Brandon! How lovely to see you.” Lorelei peered around him. “Maeve isn’t with you?”
“She had a date with several young women. They took to the park. I wasnotinvited.”
“Things are going well with the children? They are all adjusting?”
“Indeed they are. Penny has not had a single nightmare since her sister was installed. Maeve insists on assisting the governess with their lessons, though Stephen grumbles, saying he is too old for such juvenile pursuits. I do believe he used the word “pursuits.””
Lorelei laughed. “So whether he realizes it or not, he is learning. Here, here.”
Harlowe hugged her. “You’re glowing. I daresay with you at my side in the dusk, I would have no need for a lantern.”
“My wife will not be walking with you at dusk,” Kimpton groused, walking into the foyer. “I don’t care if you are her brother.” He took Lorelei’s arm and tucked it into his elbow. “I thought you moved out.”
“Really, Thorne.” Her annoyance was clearly feigned.
“As a matter of fact, that is the exact purpose of my visit.”
