by Cheryl Bolen
“Th-thank you.”
Bending closer, he rested his cheek on hers, giving her his warmth as his arm pulled her back against his body. “I’m glad you came to me and did not look for them yourself, Hero.”
“I don't know why I came to you, my lord, when in truth you must be angry with me for my behavior today.”
“My behavior was no better, Hero, and I'm sorry if I frightened you.” Max wondered if she realized that she was leaning back into him, her head resting on his chest, one of her gloved hands sitting on top of the one he had around her waist. The rightness of holding her, having her trust him, didn't disturb him as much as he felt it should. In fact, it warmed him inside.
“It is forgotten, my Lord.
“Thank you, Hero, and I want you to know that what I did today was not only for your children. I did it for you, also.” She looked up at him as he spoke so he placed a soft kiss on her cold lips before once again looking forward to the trail they were following.
The moon was weak and the paths his men led him down were partially covered by snow so they had to be careful. Twenty minutes later, they stopped.
“There is the hut, Lord Caruthers. I had believed it stood empty, yet the light tells a different story.”
Max followed his stable master’s finger to where it pointed down to the gully below. He saw the dim light and prayed both Owen and Charlotte were all right.
“The two children are our priority, Sydney. They must be unharmed and removed from that hut as quickly as possible.”
“He's a nasty blighter, that Nivers, my lord. Been a few rounds with him myself over the years,” Sydney said grimly.
“I don't understand why the children were alone when I arrived in Neathern then, sir. I had believed they were without parents and that was why they ended up under my care.” Hero's voice no longer trembled and Max hoped that was because she was both warmer and less afraid, now that she was with him.
“Nivers and his woman decided to go to London to make some money, as no one would employ them here. They didn't care about the two little ones. They just up and left.”
“But why did no one else take them in?” Hero persisted.
“Some of us tried, but every time we got near to the children, they ran and hid. Eventually, we didn’t see them anymore and figured they’d left town too. Was a right relief when they turned up with you, Miss Appleby, if you don't mind me saying.”
She waved a hand about to indicate she understood and then resettled it on top of Max's.
“Bert, circle around the hut and watch the back while Jack, Sydney and I go in from the front. Hero, you will stay on the horse.”
“Oh, but-”
“No buts. It will be this way,” Max said firmly, knowing if he showed any weakness, Hero would ignore his orders. She subsided reluctantly, slumping against him once more.
“I'll have your word, Hero.”
“Yes.”
He didn't laugh as she snapped it at him, instead contenting himself with a small smile as he nudged his mount forward and down the narrow track. Dismounting at the bottom, he handed Hero the reins of his horse and the others did the same. Pulling out his pistol, he then looked up at her and placed a finger to his lips. Nodding, she whispered something, which he gathered was 'Be careful,' so he nodded and then, signalling to his men, they started forward.
CHAPTER SIX
Hero watched, heart in mouth, as the three men moved towards the small hut. She could hear no noise and hoped this meant both Owen and Charlotte were asleep. Max lifted a hand and tested the door and when it swung open, he raised his pistol.
“All inside. Place your hands in the air!”
She heard a roar and then the sound of feet and then Hero heard Charlotte cry out. Slipping off the horse, she dropped the reins and hoped the horses would stay still. Hurrying forward, she pressed herself against the side of the house.
“You will hand over both children at once and I shall leave you unhurt.”
“Who are you to take my children?”
Hero heard the words and then suddenly, Max was flying backwards with Owen and Charlotte's father. They landed in a heap of tangled limbs on the ground. She watched as the man punched Max in the jaw.
“Help him!”
His men ignored Hero's cry, instead going into the house for the children. Torn, Hero stood where she was, watching the fight. The men were rolling on the floor and then suddenly the man they called Nivers was sailing through the air. He landed with a thud several inches from where she stood.
“Move, Hero!”
She did, hurrying towards the open door as Max arrived to pick the man up and land a punishing blow to his face. Nivers crumpled to the floor.
“I told you to wait on the horse!”
She saw murder in his eyes as he looked at her, but she wasn't afraid. The man who had brought her children a Christmas tree would never hurt her.
“I wanted to see if the children were unhurt.”
He reached for Owen and Charlotte's father once more as the man started to move. Placing one foot on his chest, Max held him still. “How much money will it take to leave those children alone forever?” he then asked.
The man spat on his foot so Lord Caruthers moved it to his throat and applied pressure until the man started making a wheezing sound.
“I will repeat the question one more time and if you do not answer in a manner I find satisfactory, then I will have my men take you away and they will not be as lenient with you as I am being, Mr Nivers.”
Hero thought she should be horrified but, in fact, she was not. She wanted this man to suffer for the pain he had caused Owen and Charlotte and she wanted Lord Caruthers to make sure he never approached them again.
“How much money will it take, Nivers?”
He wheezed out an amount that made Hero gasp after Lord Caruthers lifted his foot from the man’s neck.
“I will give you that amount and an assurance that if you return to Neathern at any time or make any attempt to contact Owen and Charlotte, I shall not be pleased. In fact, Mr Nivers, I shall make you disappear permanently. I hope you understand my meaning.” Lord Caruthers accompanied those words with a menacing look that made Hero shiver. She was glad it was not directed at her.
“You can’t threaten me!”
“Yes, I can. However, not with a lady present.” He placed his foot back on the man’s throat. “Is it clear in there, Sydney?”
“Aye, my Lord. I'm bringing the other man out now.”
“Go in when he is outside, Hero, whilst I finish negotiating with him,” Lord Caruthers then said, giving her a brief look.
She watched Sydney drag a man out through the door and then hurried into the little hut. Her eyes searched through the dim lamplight until she found Owen and Charlotte huddled together in a corner.
“I'm here, my darlings. I told you I would come.” Hero spoke softly as she moved closer, dropping to her knees before the children. Holding out her arms, she reached for them, but only Charlotte flew at her. Pulling the little girl close, she held her while she sobbed but her eyes remained on Owen, who had his back pressed to the wall. His expression was still a mask of terror, his body rigid, his fists clenched as he looked, wide-eyed, at her. She could feel his pain, so deep and raw, it consumed him.
“He will not hurt you again, Owen, I promise.”
He didn’t move, just watched her.
“Please come to me, Owen. Please let me hold you as I am holding Charlotte.”
He took a small step and then another until he stood before her. Hero didn’t reach for him, nor he for her.
“How brave you have both been, Owen and Charlotte, and now we can all go back and get some sleep, and tomorrow there will be a special celebration because we are home safe again. Can you imagine what the other children will say to you both? They will be quite overcome to be in your presence, the presence of two such heroic children.”
Hero kept talking as he stood before her, wa
tching her as she rubbed Charlotte’s back until finally the little girl’s tremors began to ease. She wanted to hold him, too, and soothe his pain away, yet knew she could not until he was ready. She wondered if that day would ever come. He hadn’t spoken yet and his breathing was fast, as if he had been playing with the other children.
“I think we need to go home now, because it's my belief that after such a trying evening, you must both be in need of a cup of warm milk sweetened with honey and a piece of cake.”
“Apple and cinnamon?”
“But what other kind is there for such an occasion as this, Charlotte?”
“Did I hear someone mention apple and cinnamon cake?”
Hero looked up as Lord Caruthers walked into the small room, instantly making it seem full to the roof line. A bruise was forming on his jaw and his clothes were messed and dirtied but to her weak heart, he looked the most beautiful man she had ever seen.
“I was just telling the children how brave they’ve been, my lord.”
He looked at her and then at the rigid stance of Owen before her. Moving closer, he dropped to his knees beside Hero to look at the boy.
“Owen, I want you to listen to me carefully.” His voice was soft and un-threatening. “He has gone now and you have my word that neither you nor Charlotte will ever see him again. This is my promise to you both, Owen, and I always keep my word.”
Hero held her breath as the boy lifted his eyes and looked at Lord Caruthers for several long, drawn-out seconds. He then took a step and then another and then Lord Caruthers opened his arms and Owen fell into them. Placing one large hand on the boy’s head, he then held him close to his chest.
“Is he out there?”
Both adults heard the fear in Owen’s voice.
“He has gone and you have my promise you will never see him again, Owen.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I told him you belong with Hero, and your father now understands that.”
The boy didn't speak again after that reassurance from Lord Caruthers, instead wrapping his arms around Max's neck.
“I will carry him, Hero,” he said as they both regained their feet. “Surely, a big strong boy like this cannot be carried by a woman? What do you say, Owen?”
She heard Owen sniffle and watched his white curls flutter as he shook his head and then Lord Caruthers headed back outside. Following with Charlotte, Hero was relieved to see no sign of either of the men who had held the children inside the hut. Only Sydney remained.
“Will you ride with my stable master, Sydney, Owen? He is the strongest of my men and will keep you safe until we reach my home. I will carry Hero and Charlotte.”
Owen nodded and allowed Max to hand him up to Sydney, who settled him in front of him, even opening his jacket and tucking the boy inside.
Max lifted Hero next, with Charlotte in her arms, onto his horse and then quickly climbed up behind. The little girl had not lifted her head; it still remained buried in Hero's shoulder.
“Is she all right?”
“She will be, but I fear it will take her some time to feel safe again.”
He didn't speak, just directed the horse away from the hut and they were soon making their way home.
Hero had not felt the cold before; her thoughts had been only for the children. Yet now it bit into her, slicing through her clothes. She felt Lord Caruthers move behind her and then she was wrapped in warmth as he urged both her and Charlotte inside the folds of his coat. The heat from his large body felt blissful and holding the little girl closer, she sank into his chest.
*
Max rode up to his front door and then, dismounting, he lifted Hero and Charlotte down. Taking Owen from Sydney, he let the boy wrap his arms and legs around him once again and then urged everyone into the house.
“You will stay here tonight, Hero. It is too cold to risk going further with the children. I have told Sydney to send someone to Bratton House informing them you are all unharmed and will return in the morning.”
She nodded but said nothing further, too tired to argue over the impropriety of the arrangement.
“Freddy, please organise a bed for the children and Miss Appleby and food,” he said upon entering.
“At once, my lord, and I have lit a fire in the floral parlor.”
Max led the way and once inside the room, he directed Hero towards a chair and watched as she sat with the little girl in her arms. Now the ordeal was over, she was exhausted. He could see it in her body and the yawns she struggled to hide. She had not given a thought to leaving her home to venture out on such a night. Hero had considered only these two children and getting them back safely. Max did not know many people, men or women, who would undertake such a task for two children that were not even kin.
Owen still had a firm grip on Max, his thin arms holding him tight as his head pressed into his neck and he knew he would remember the terror in the boy’s face for many days to come.
“Put him down, my lord, and I shall coax him to share my lap.”
Max reached for the small arms around his neck but they stiffened as he did so. Moving to the seat across from Hero's, he instead lowered himself and Owen into it.
“He is just a little boy, my lord, and so very tired.”
So much emotion, Max thought, looking at the sheen of tears in her eyes as she spoke. She had not been treated well by her own family so he wondered who had set the example for her, who had taught her compassion and to love unconditionally. Was it something that was just inside her, this amazing capacity to give against all odds?
“I am quite comfortable having this young monkey draped about my person, Miss Appleby, I assure you.” Max was rewarded with another sniffle from Owen. And, God help him, he was comfortable with Owen’s little body resting in his arms. Something inside Max wanted to protect these children from any further hurt, see the little boy laugh again and ask questions about the king.
“Did you know that the dining table at Carlton House where the king lives is two hundred feet long and has a stream of water that flows from a fountain at the head of the table, Owen?”
The boy tensed and then lifted his head to look at Max. He was still pale and the fear still lingered in his eyes but there was a glimpse of the boy he met yesterday and that told him that the resilience of youth would heal this child, given plenty of time and love from Hero.
“Have you eaten there?”
“My lord,” Hero added, still correcting the boy even after what they had been through. Max wondered if that was what most mothers did, real mothers who cared for their children.
“I have, Owen, and there were four silver bridges and the food was served on large silver and gold platters.”
Food and drinks arrived and Owen unbent enough to slip off Max's lap and lean on his thighs.
“Was there fish in the river?”
“Goldfish,” Max confirmed, passing the boy a piece of cake. Hero was doing the same for Charlotte. They were still tense. He felt it in the small hand gripped around Max’s knee, yet the tension was starting to ease in the warmth and safety of his home and in the company of two adults who would protect them, no matter the cost.
They ate and drank with Owen asking questions around mouthfuls of food and gulps of tea and Hero even refrained from rebuking him, perhaps because she was pleased the boy seemed to be recovering, if outwardly, from his ordeal.
“Will I go to hell for hating my father, my lord?”
The question came from nowhere but Max understood the importance of it to Owen. Hero and he shared a look. How did one answer a question like that?
“Of course not, Owen,” Hero said, obviously deciding on honesty. “Nowhere is it written that you must love your father. Indeed, I did not mine. In fact, he was a fool.”
“Mine was, too,” Max said, surprising himself. He never spoke about his parents. In fact, he rarely thought of them anymore.
“I don’t like mine, either.”
�
�Excellent, Owen,” Max stated. “We can have our own little club of people who dislike their fathers.”
“Just the four of us,” Hero confirmed, sending Max a soft smile that was the sweetest he had ever received from her.
“The rooms are now ready, my lord.”
“Thank you, Freddy. Would you like to put Charlotte to bed now, Hero?”
“Yes, please, my lord.”
As Max started to leave the room, he felt Owen's hand slip into his so he wrapped the cold little fingers into his larger ones, the gesture feeling surprisingly natural and right.
Their room had a fire blazing and Hero soon had both children bundled into the large bed as Max watched from the doorway. She left them in their underclothes and then tucked the blankets in tight.
“Do you think you can sleep, Owen?”
The boy nodded and yawned. Hero then leaned over him and planted a loud, smacking kiss on his cheek and he did not pull away. Instead, he wrapped his arms briefly around her neck before releasing her. Max heard the murmur of her words and wondered what she'd said, especially as she repeated the process for the little girl. He'd never thought of having children of his own, but if he had one like Owen, he would not mind. However, how would he know how to treat them?
As Max watched Hero settle the children, he searched back in his mind for a day in his life that had not been spent doing exactly as he wished, but his memory could not unearth one. He was a pampered, spoilt man who lived an indulgent life and looking at Hero kissing and cuddling two children that were not even of her blood, he felt shame.
Pushing off the door frame as she approached, he bid the children goodnight and then moved into the hallway. Behind him, Hero closed the door softly.
“Will they be all right?”
“Yes. Apparently they are used to their father's ways. However, I think this time it was harder, as they have lived without fear for some time now.”
