Page 8 of Lord of the Lost

“Mother,” he took her hands and bent to gently kiss her cheek, “dear Mother. How alone you must feel. How scared you must feel. I am so sorry that I was not here when you needed me most.”

He said this because he knew he must say it; he said it because it was expected of him.

Whether or not he felt it was harder to discern.

But his mother seemed to appreciate the words, and clung to his hands for a moment, before stepping back and waving his sister forward. His sister had become a woman, he saw, as she stepped into the room, and came to him.

Gabrielle hugged him close and cried, and Devlin knew that, perhaps, he should feel the urge to cry as well – but he did not. It was as if he was outside himself, just watching all of this happen. So he held her, and patted her back gently, until she drew back from him, and pulled out a handkerchief to dab at her eyes.

“I have missed you so much, brother – you have been gone so very long. I am beyond glad that you are home. Mother and I have been dreadfully afraid that… that...”

“…that I had been killed on the battlefield?”

He said the words for her, because he knew that she could not bear to say them herself. She nodded. Then his mother stepped past him.

“Come, sit down – you must be tired. Wilkins tells me that you have only just arrived – you must be exhausted from the road.”

“I am, and in truth, hungry, for I have barely rested or eaten since leaving Portsmouth.”

His mother regarded him with huge eyes, stunned by his words.

“But… why…? Have you no staff, no…?”

The bitter laugh rose in his throat, and he stifled it – she did not deserve that reaction from him.

“Why? Because I could not afford to do anything else, having spent almost all that I had on passage from France, and then the horse that I rode from Portsmouth. I have lived far rougher on battlefields – a few days of discomfort is irrelevant. And no, I have no carriage, no staff, no luggage – nothing but myself, and the bedroll that was still tied to my saddle when I left my horse in our stables, with Sam.”

“Oh my! Then we must remedy that, as soon as possible – at least as far as a valet – I kept your father’s valet on, just in case, so he is available to you. And food, that is easy, and being prepared now. I would not have you go without, ever again, my son!”

Devlin nodded, uncertain what to say, for in truth, he was no longer sure that he knew how to live the life of a gentleman of the ton, after so many years in the field.