The Butterfly Formatted

by Vale, Victoria

  He left them, blowing out into the night and slamming the door behind him. He’d gotten halfway down the lane when a thin voice cried out to him. He turned to find Evie rushing to catch up to him, a threadbare shawl held around her shoulders. It was not enough protection against the cold, and she shivered, her teeth chattering as she skidded to a halt before him.

  Niall frowned and glanced back at the house, half expecting Conall to come huffing after them. But, no one had followed her.

  “It’s freezin’ out here,” he chided, shrugging out of his coat and draping it over her shoulders. “Ye should go inside before ye catch a chill.”

  “Please,” she insisted, reaching out to touch his arm. “I didnae know … he never told me he already had a son. Ye look so much like my Gawain.”

  He could not help the grim expression tightening his lips at the thought of the boy, who was in for a world of pain with Conall for a father. “Does he beat the lad?”

  With another shudder, Evie pulled the sides of his coat together and huddled inside it for warmth. “No … only me. When ’e tries to touch the boy, I get between ’em and take the blows. I’d do anythin’ to protect ’im.”

  Niall pinched the bridge of his nose, a pounding beginning between his eyes. “That’s how it started with me. My maw couldnae protect me forever … and ye cannae keep gettin’ in the way o’ Conall’s fists. He’ll break ye if he doesnae kill ye first.”

  Evie sobbed, and a tear ran down her cheek. “He willnae come for the job. Ye ken that, though, don’t ye?”

  Niall nodded. “Aye. I know he willnae. But ye and Gawain … ye can come to get away from him. Ye dinnae have to stay and put up with this sort of treatment.”

  She bowed her head, sniffling and using the lapel of his coat to dry her damp face. “I cannae leave him … he’s my lawful husband. But Gawain … maybe … could he come to live in yer home? Conall doesnae want him around, anyway, and … well, he does look an awful lot like ye. Maybe some’d think he’s yer boy.”

  Niall studied the woman in silence for a moment, hardly feeling the cold sinking through the layers of his clothes without the benefit of his greatcoat. His life had changed so much in the past few months, with so many changes flying at him, he hardly knew how to take them all. He had come here to find Conall, not expecting to discover a stepmother and half-brother along with him.

  “Oh, but yer wife wouldnae like it,” Evie said when he did not respond. “So silly o’ me to think a fine lady would want some lowborn child comin’ into ’er home.”

  “No,” he murmured. “No, Livvie would …”

  She would love Gawain because he was Niall’s brother and would want to protect him, knowing what Conall was capable of.

  “I would have to speak with her about it, but she’d never turn him away.”

  Evie clasped her hands in front of her, eyes going wide. “Oh … I’d be so grateful. I mean, I’d miss my boy, o’ course, but if ’e could have a better life …”

  Niall reached out to place a hand over both of hers. “I will return in a day or two. Can ye hold on until then?”

  She nodded, now clinging to his hand with both of hers. “God bless ye, Niall. I dinnae know how a son o’ Connall turned out so well, but ye’re a good man.”

  He pulled his hand free to reach into the breast pocket of his coat. In it was his purse, which contained a few guineas and folded bank notes. He extended it to Evie, who looked at it with wary eyes.

  “Take it,” he urged. “Dinnae give it to Conall, or he’ll piss it away on gin. It isnae much, but it could make do for ye if ye spend it well.”

  With a tight smile, she accepted the purse, exchanging it for his coat.

  “Keep that, too,” he insisted. “Ye’ll freeze.”

  Evie shook her head and shoved the coat into his arms. “’e willnae like it if I come back with this. This purse can be hidden.”

  Niall watched with raised eyebrows as she tucked it into the bodice of her gown, where it disappeared from view. Then, she was gone, her shawl held close to her body as she dashed back to the house.

  Pulling his coat back on, he waited until she had slipped back into the house before he set off for home. He wrestled with his decision all the way to Dunvar House, his mind reeling as he tried to think what Olivia would say, how they would manage to raise another child alongside Serena. The boy probably couldn’t read, so that would be the first thing he’d remedy. He’d need clothes, a place to sleep, a tutor …

  By the time he walked up the front steps, he was no closer to having any of it puzzled out than he had when leaving town. All he knew was that he had been wrung dry and just wanted to find his bed and his wife. She’d help him make sense of this, help him make the right decisions when it came to Gawain.

  Once home, he took the stairs two at a time and went to his room on swift feet. He found Olivia abed with a blazing fire casting a warm glow over her. She had not fallen asleep yet, the book she’d been reading resting in her lap, the scrap of lace she used to mark her place lying on the coverlet.

  She smiled at him, but then grew concerned when she took in his haggard expression. “What’s the matter?”

  Taking off his coat, he sat on the edge of the bed and began working at his boots. “Don’t be angry with me.”

  “Why would I be angry, Niall? What did you do?”

  Kicking his boots aside, he patted the mattress beside him, beckoning her to his side. His heart stuttered as he waited, the words to tell her all of it burning the inside of his mouth. Then, she was beside him, shifting close so that their bodies touched, her hand finding his. She intertwined their fingers and looked up at him expectantly.

  “Whatever it is, we can sort it out together,” she assured him. “Just tell me.”

  “Well,” he began. “It turns out I have a brother …”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  2 weeks later…

  Dunnottar Castle

  Kincardinshire, Scotland

  livia glanced down at the boy walking at her side, his face a study in grim determination. She smiled, unable to help the way her heart ached at the sight of Gawain, who was so much like Niall, it was uncanny. Dark hair, dark eyes, a stature far greater than other boys his age, and a solemn face. When her husband had come to her with this notion of taking him in to raise alongside Serena at Dunvar House, she’d only experienced a moment’s hesitation.

  Her reticence had had nothing to do with the boy—he had not asked to be born to Conall and could have a better life with them. No, her worry had been over how Gawain might take to being sent away and thrust into an entirely new world away from his mother. Would he like Olivia and Serena? Would he even want anything to do with them?

  But, of course, she had agreed that the boy should come to live with them, and the very next day, Niall had gone to fetch him. He had warned her how much Gawain resembled him, but she had still been unprepared for the child who had been presented to her—filthy and dressed in rags, but still the handsomest little boy she’d ever seen.

  He had been wary of her, of course, but had confessed that his maw had explained everything to him before he’d left. He understood that he was being brought to live with his brother and his wife and daughter, and that he was to have an education and a far better life than the one his sire would have provided. He’d been quiet and reserved, though had enjoyed the new clothing and bedchamber that had been given to him. Far too thin upon arriving on their doorstep, he was now beginning to fill out, his love of the food at Dunvar House giving him the additional weight.

  Not long after Gawain had come to live with them, they had received a letter from Adam. He’d returned to Dunnottar after Bertram’s execution and wished for them to come visit right away. Apparently, there was news he must share with them in person. There had not been time to apprise him of the situation concerning Gawain, so Adam did not know that four of them had come from Edinburgh instead of three.

  Thus, Gawain’s grave expression as the
y alighted the front steps of the massive, ancient castle her brother had acquired and renovated five years prior. The keep was a piece of Scottish history, having once been a holding of William the Lion, an ancestor of Adam on his mother’s side. Built upon the edge of a steep escarpment with the ocean beyond, it might just be the most beautiful place she’d ever seen.

  She watched the boy stare up at the massive double doors leading into the keep, and she wanted to reach out to touch him, reassure him. Yet, she refrained. The lad liked her well enough, but still missed his mother. He did not care for displays of affection, and she did not want to make him uncomfortable.

  “Do all earls live in castles?” he asked, gazing up at Niall, who had just knocked upon the door.

  Niall, who held Serena’s hand, and the puppy Daphne in the crook of his opposite arm, smiled down at his brother. “No. Only the eccentric ones.”

  Gawain frowned and turned to look to her. “What does ‘ecc-cen-tric’ mean?”

  He always turned to her with such questions, seeming to think her the more knowledgeable between them, being a noble lady and all.

  “It means strange,” she told him with a little laugh. “And my brother certainly qualifies as that. But, I have a feeling he will like you.”

  Gawain relaxed a bit, adjusting his coat and then smoothing his hands down the front of his waistcoat. He had been quite fastidious in dressing himself this morning, wanting to look his best to impress the earl.

  The door swung open, and a servant Olivia recognized as a former footman greeted them. It appeared he’d been promoted to the post of butler. As he ushered them in, they found Adam already waiting for them. He stood just within the vestibule dressed as he always did when in the Scottish countryside—indecently, without cravat or waistcoat, his hair unbound and hanging wild down his back.

  At the sight of them, he came forward, a slight smile curving his lips. “Butterfly.”

  She practically flew into his arms, finding that she’d missed him, even after so short a time apart. “Hart.”

  He embraced her, then stood back to inspect the rest of the family. At the sight of Gawain, he frowned. “Who’s this?”

  Niall come forward, pulling Gawain along with him. The boy stared up at Adam in awe, a bit of curiosity gleaming in his eyes as he took the earl’s measure.

  “Adam, this is my brother, Gawain,” Niall said, beaming proudly as he indicated the boy. “He has come to live with us at Dunvar House. Gawain, this is Lord Adam Callahan, my brother-in-law.”

  “And the only friend he’s ever had,” Adam quipped, offering the boy a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Gawain.”

  He did not bat an eyelash at being so suddenly introduced to Niall’s brother, though she could see the questions in the depths of his stare. She nodded to indicate they would explain in good time.

  “And where is my little princess?” Adam asked, glancing about the vestibule as if he could not see Serena standing just before him. “Oh, dear … did you leave her in Edinburgh?”

  Serena giggled, jumping up and down to capture his attention. “I’m right here, Uncle Adam!”

  He pretended to be startled by her, glancing down with a gasp. “Well, now, there you are. How does Uncle Adam’s princess fare today?”

  She leapt into his arms, giggling when he kissed her, his stubble tickling her cheek. “I’m hungry!”

  “It just so happens that luncheon is being served in the dining room,” he declared, motioning for them all to follow him. “The news I wish to tell you … well, it will all become evident once we get there.”

  Curiosity had Olivia practically tearing off her coat and gloves to hand them off to a footman. Whatever was going on, Adam had been deuced secretive about it, insistent that they come immediately. She wondered what it could be as they followed him to the dining room, Serena still held in his arms. It must be good, considering Adam’s fair mood. He was a far cry from the man they’d left in London after the events of Bertram’s arrest and trial.

  The answer became evident as they stepped into the dining room to find the table laden with several dishes and footmen ensuring everything was in readiness for them. A figure seated at one end of the table caught her eye—a woman dressed in a sprigged muslin day gown of white and lilac, a bit of matching ribbon tied about her throat in the style of a choker. Shock rippled through Olivia as she stood to greet them, a wide smile crossing her face and mirth twinkling in her eyes.

  “Daphne!” Serena cried, leaping out of Adam’s arms and rushing to her aunt.

  The puppy in Niall’s arms barked and squirmed in response to her name, prompting laughter as they all watched Serena throw her arms around the lady Daphne’s legs and squeeze tight.

  Olivia and Niall traded bemused looks while Adam went to Daphne and Serena, standing beside them to face the others.

  “What is going on?” Olivia blurted, taking in the way Daphne looked to Adam, who placed a possessive hand at the back of her neck.

  “My news is Daphne,” he said with a little smirk.

  “But, I thought …”

  “Ye left her in London,” Niall finished for her. “What happened?”

  Daphne laughed, tousling Serena’s hair. “He was determined to leave me behind, but I was having none of it.”

  “She came after me,” Adam said, trying his hardest to sound displeased about it, but failing miserably. “I supposed I ought to keep her, after all.”

  “We were married in Gretna Green, barely a fortnight ago,” Daphne added, holding up her left hand to display a ring.

  Olivia recognized the piece as having belonged to Adam’s mother—a diamond in a setting of silver with tiny rubies adorning the band.

  “Married?” she mumbled, her head spinning as she digested this development.

  It was the last thing she might have expected to hear, but the most welcome thing in the world. Adam’s one final chance at happiness had not been thrown away, after all, and now, their family was complete. She had Niall and their daughter, and now, they had Gawain. Adam had Daphne, and Serena would be allowed to grow up knowing her aunt, as it should have been all along. Her chest felt tight, as if her heart might swell and burst free of it altogether.

  Adam sidled toward her with a mischievous grin, one hand reaching out for hers. “Will you congratulate me, or stand about trapping flies?”

  Snapping her gaping mouth shut, she smiled and took his hand. “Congratulations, Hart. Do take care of her.”

  He snorted. “Some man ought to. The stubborn woman needs someone to keep her out of trouble.”

  “I am married to trouble, as we both well know,” Daphne countered from where she had resumed her place at the table.

  “Aye,” Adam agreed, giving her a sly glance. “Which means you’ll have your hands full enough with me … you’ll have no excuse to go getting yourself into anything else.”

  Olivia looked away as their exchanged glances grew heated, feeling as if she now witnessed something she should not. It was clear to her that the connection between Daphne and her brother was as strong as ever, and for that, she was grateful. Her own happiness became magnified as she bore witness to her brother’s.

  Niall reached over the back of Daphne’s chair and clasped her shoulder—the one that hadn’t been injured. “’Tis good to see ye, lass. Even better to see ye’ve finally brought this one to heel.”

  Daphne glanced up at him with a smile. “So it seems. It is good to be back.”

  The two clasped hands for a moment, then Niall was pulling out a chair for Olivia, motioning for her to sit. Gawain, determined to become as much a gentleman as his brother, mimicked the behavior, pulling out a chair for Serena.

  With the puppy napping beneath the table, they began serving themselves from the dishes spread out between them. Conversation flew back and forth, stories of all that had happened during their separation filling in the gaps so it felt as if they’d never been apart at all.

  Hands shoved down into the pocke
ts of his greatcoat, Niall gazed out at the rolling and crashing waves of the sea as the sun dipped lower and lower on the horizon. Above him, the rocky cliff that Dunnottar Castle had been built upon loomed high, the keep itself thrusting up off it and toward the sky.

  For him, this place had always felt bittersweet—a fortress against the world, where Olivia had been kept hidden from society. It was here she and Serena had been brought to live once it had been decided that no one could know about their ordeal. It was here he had been elevated to the status of butler, where he had lived and worked while doing everything he could to keep Olivia safe. It was here she had lived in agony, her cries and screams often echoing down the yawning corridors.

  Despite all the sadness and grief this place represented for them, it was good to return, to say good-bye to the past and look forward to the future. Not that they would never return. On the contrary, they planned to remain at least a sennight before returning to Edinburgh. As well, Olivia and Daphne—falling seamlessly into a bond of sisterhood—had already begun speaking of Christmas at Dunnottar, all of them here to celebrate it together.

  As he gazed out over the water, he reached into the pocket of his greatcoat and retrieved the object he had brought with him to the shore. He had gone up to his butler’s quarters after dinner to gather his belongings to take home to Dunvar House with him. It did not matter that he was no longer a servant and owned fine things—he’d never want to be rid of his mother’s hand-sewn quilt, or the books Olivia had given him over the years, or the small trinkets he’d been able to afford himself with his butler’s wages. The things were his and reminded him of where he’d come from. He wanted to keep them so he’d never forget. Such humility could only serve him well in his new life.

  All those things had been packed away for the journey home, but this … the bit of the porcelain statue he’d kept since he’d been a boy had found its way into his pocket, a force of habit. Running his thumb over it, he found that touching it had lost its thrill, that his awe over its beauty had begun to fade.