The Reunion

by Michelle E Lowe

  * * *

  Again, Pierce was the first to awaken. He thought to kiss Taisia until she awoke, just as he had done in the elf forest. He decided against it, for they had been traveling nonstop for days, and rest was what she needed. Yet, once he was awake, he couldn’t fall back asleep, so he got out of bed to stretch. He washed his face, dressed, and went out to fetch something to eat.

  In the dining area, Pierce found the hotel’s complimentary breakfast buffet and loaded up a plate. As he did, he noticed a fair-haired man sitting at a nearby table, chatting with the desk clerk Pierce had spoken to the night before. He looked to be in his early twenties, with sharp blue eyes and a handsome young face. Pierce didn’t think much about it until the lad approached him.

  “S’il vous plait, monsieur,” the youth said.

  Pierce turned to him, a bagel in his mouth. “Oui?”

  “Monsieur, my staff has informed me that you have requested Room 107.”

  Pierce took the bagel out. “I did.”

  “May I ask why?”

  Apparently, the lad was part of this little mystery adventure. He decided to offer as much detail as possible. After all, the youth was most likely expecting his mother, Nona.

  “I uncovered the clue behind the yellow brick under the bridge. The clue before that was inside a birdhouse in Bergsham Forest.”

  “And who are you, exactly?”

  The lad’s tone wasn’t rude, only curious as he tried to figure Pierce out.

  “Pierce. Nona Fey’s son.”

  The youth beamed.

  “You are? Where is your mother?”

  “In England. I came in her stead.” Pierce felt it was time to offer up a question of his own. “And you are?”

  “I am Nico Joubert. Son of François Joubert.”

  Bloody hell, Pierce thought. He’s my bleedin’ cousin!

  “Let me ask you something,” Nico threw in gently. “Who exactly is Nona Fey?”

  This was a test. The savvy lad wanted to make sure Pierce wasn’t some tosser who somehow stumbled across the knowledge about the inheritance.

  “Nona Fey is a lifelong wanderer who married Jasper Landcross. Together, they had two sons. Anything else you need to know?”

  “What about her mother?”

  “Grandmother Fey? All I remember was she had fallen deathly ill years ago and we—meaning the troupe—brought her to your father here in the Netherlands.”

  That seemed to win Nico over.

  “Only Father and I knew Grandmother was a Gypsy. You and I really are related, aren’t we?”

  “It appears so,” he agreed right before the lad hugged him. “Whoa. Hey now.”

  Nico looked upon him with fondness. “I have yearned to meet my extended family since learning about them.”

  “Learned about us from whom? François?”

  Nico shook his head. “No. Father would never speak about his family.”

  “I see. Well, regardless, I’m sorry to hear about his death,” Pierce lied.

  “My father isn’t dead.”

  Pierce was taken utterly aback.

  “Pardon?”

  “He and my mother moved to France two months ago. Father has left me in charge of this hotel.”

  A novel’s-length worth of questions developed rather quickly.

  “Come again?” he said in English. “Your father is alive? Is he sick, then?”

  “He is very healthy.”

  Pierce thought for a moment and forced himself to hurry and accept this news. “Wait a tick. If he’s not in the country, then how did he hide the clues and the letters?”

  “He didn’t. I hid them.”

  “You?”

  “Oui. She asked me to.”

  Things began merging.

  “She, eh? Let me just throw this out there—Grandmother Fey?”

  “You guessed it!” he claimed with zeal. “She, too, is alive.”

  It all made much more sense. Everything in the notes was something deeply personal and emotionally driven. They were not written by a brother severed from a family he cared nothing for, but a mother trying to reach out to her long-lost daughter.

  “So, you hid the clues, eh? Nice touch with the gadgets.”

  “Merci. I enjoy collecting unique items. The devices I put the clues into were designed by Contributors. I didn’t hide all of them, though. Grandmother requested the lawyer she hired to hide the clue in my grandfather’s grave so I wouldn’t have to.”

  “Understandable.”

  “And it was I who wrote the last couple of clues that led you here. In fact, I chose our finest room because I desired for you to be as comfortable as possible after your long journey.”

  Pierce now understood why those clues differed from the others.

  “The lullaby was a song my mother used to sing to me.”

  “Charming,” Pierce grunted with contempt. “Where is Grandmother Fey?”

  “She lives in Zeewolde. She has a cottage next to the Horsterwold Springs. Here.” He reached into his jacket pocket. “This is the real clue our grandmother wrote. It was meant to be hidden in the birdhouse and lead you directly to her.”

  Pierce took it and read, “‘Keep north to the river. Make your way to the springs. Look for a cottage and find what your journey brings.’”

  “As I told you, I wanted to see the other branches of my family tree,” Nico admitted. “I hope you can forgive me.”

  Pierce liked this cousin of his. He came off as the humble, kind-hearted sort. Qualities that most certainly hadn’t been inherited from his father.

  “We can cross the bridge over the Gooi Lake.”

  “We?” Pierce emphasized.

  Nico frowned. “Oh. I thought I could join you. Show you the way?”

  Pierce could see the restless lad was itching to get out of the hotel for a while.

  Pierce shrugged. “Sure, I see no harm in it.”

  Nico’s large, bright smile returned in an instant.

  “Ah, wonderful! I will have our horses saddled and ready.”

  Nico turned on his heel and exited the dining area, calling for his hotel staff.

  “Grand,” Pierce whispered to himself.

  He finished gathering breakfast and returned to the room. He felt excited and nervous about meeting his grandmother. The last time he’d seen her, he was but a small tyke and she was at death’s door. His memories of her were vague, and he was separated from his parents before he really had a chance to learn more about her.

  Taisia was still asleep when he returned to the room. He set the plate on the table and crawled on his hands and knees across the mattress before gently lying down on top of her. Her eyelids fluttered as she drifted from her dream world. Her beautiful lips rose in a smile upon seeing him.

  “What time is it?” she asked, stroking her fingers through his hair.

  “It’s early yet. Guess what I found out.”

  “What did you find out?” she moaned, clearly still in the grips of her slumber.

  “It was a cousin of mine, Nico, who hid the last couple of clues. He did so to meet the family his father refused to talk about. Oh, and speaking of my uncle, it turns out the bloke is still breathing.”

  Taisia knitted her eyebrows in confusion and sat up. Pierce rose with her.

  “What?”

  “Aye. In fact, François is as healthy as a hog and has moved away recently. Apparently, he has nothing to do with this.”

  “Who wrote the other clues, then?”

  Pierce chewed at his bottom lip. “Grandmother Fey.”

  He waited for her to process what he had said.

  “Your mother told us her brother sent her a telegraph claiming she had died.”

  “Reckon he lied.”

  “Where is she?”

  He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out the map. “My cousin told me she lives in a cottage next to the Horsterwold Springs in Zeewolde, which would be”—he slid his finger over the Gooi Lake and to
the legend of the springs on the map—“right around here somewhere. Nico is preparing to bring me there.”

  Taisia snapped her head up from the map.

  “Only you? You don’t want me to come along?”

  He did, and had intended to have her be there with him, but, seeing her sleeping so soundly, he supposed she’d be too exhausted to travel.

  “I’ll return this evening,” he explained. “It’ll be best if I go first and see what kind of woman Grandma is. She might be sore that I’ve showed up and not Mum. Rather you didn’t endure such drama.”

  Taisia’s expression darkened, and a cold shudder raced up his spine.

  “Is it that, or are you afraid to introduce me to her? Are you worried she may refuse us the inheritance because of me?”

  Strangely enough, Pierce had entirely forgotten about the inheritance. Learning that his grandmother was alive had put the entire mission into a new light.

  “Afraid to introduce you to her?” he inquired, confused.

  She threw the blanket off and got out of bed. “Don’t act like you do not understand what I’m talking about. You’re nervous she’ll object to us being together.”

  She stormed into the water closet and slammed the door. Pierce stood, finally realizing what she meant.

  “That is neither here nor there, Tai. Why would you think that of me, eh?” He approached and tried the knob, but it was locked. “Listen. Come with me, then.”

  “Go!” she yelled. “I wouldn’t want to jeopardize you getting the money.”

  He was utterly gobsmacked.

  “Fuckin’ hell,” he whispered. “What did I say?”

  Instead of continuing to argue, he went to retrieve his gun belt when he realized it, and his pistol, were still in the lavatory where he had left them.

  “Shite.”

  He thought to ask, but then decided against it. Instead, he grabbed his jacket and hat and left.

  Nico was enjoying his tea and newspaper in the dining area when Pierce entered.

  “Oh. Are you down already? I believed you were going to eat first. Where is your companion? My clerk informed me you had arrived with a young black woman.”

  “She’s staying here,” he answered, trying not to sound vexed. “We don’t have any other place to stay, is it all right if we have the room for another night?”

  “Of course,” Nico said, standing.

  “Merci. I’m set to leave whenever you are.”

  They mounted up and Pierce followed Nico. He was having second thoughts about his decision to leave without Taisia. To quiet his guilt, he reckoned they needed space from each other to allow their heads to cool. Even so, he glanced back at the hotel, hoping to see her running out to join them.

  * * *

  Rupert’s blood boiled when he saw Landcross. If he weren’t under Christopher’s threat of being made known to one of the most ruthless men he had ever encountered, he would ride straight out of the alleyway he was hiding in and take Landcross down. Witnesses be damned, he would have pulled him off his horse and sliced him up until he bled to death. Alas, Rupert needed to bide his time.

  “The woman isn’t with him,” Ainsworth noted from his own horse. “She must be staying behind.”

  “Hmm. Maybe I ought to search for her.”

  “No. I need you with me on this. You can have her when we return. I doubt she will be going anywhere.”

  Rupert pouted. He squinted his eyes at the youth traveling with Landcross. “Who’s the lad?”

  Ainsworth studied him.

  “I could be mistaken, but I believe he’s François’s son. He supposedly manages this hotel.” Ainsworth turned to him. “I know exactly where they’re going. It is where I had suspected the search would end.”

  “Good,” Rupert said flatly, eager to get underway. “Then let’s crack on.”

  * * *

  An hour after her fight with Pierce, Taisia had calmed down enough to eat the food he had brought up. She thought deeply on things and eventually arrived at the conclusion that her sister was right about her short temper. Her fits of angry didn’t flare up often, but when they did, she regretted every ill word she said. She knew her argument with Pierce had come from a deep resentment toward the hostile way people, especially whites, had treated her. Even in her own country, she and her family had regularly been regarded as subhuman. So, even though there had been no suggestion that Pierce was ashamed of her, her thoughts had instinctively gone in that direction. She also realized it was her love for Pierce, and the fear of him disappointing her, that had made her volatile. Her concern had heightened now that she had given so much of herself over to him. The vulnerability of her emotions was as tender as a stitched-up wound, liable to rip at the seams. If she was going to have a long and healthy relationship with Pierce, she had to learn how to control her sentiments and stop letting herself skip to conclusions. If she did not, she ran the risk of losing him, and that frightened her tremendously.

  Inside the water closet, she washed her face clean of dried tears and wiped away the crumbs on the side of her mouth. As she reached for the towel on the counter, she spied Pierce’s gun belt underneath it. After what had happened in the elf forest, it wasn’t wise for him to be out there unarmed. Taisia looked at the map still on the bed and studied the location where he and his cousin were heading. This was a way she could make amends, as well as keep her promise of making sure he was safe.

  She would go to Horsterwold Springs.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Grandmother Fey

  The journey to Horsterwold Springs took hours. Pierce thought to ask Nico more about Grandmother Fey, but he reckoned he’d discover it all for himself soon enough. Throughout the trip, Nico asked many questions about what was it like growing up nomadic. Pierce told him all about his childhood until he reached the part where he and Joaquin had been separated. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to disclose about himself.

  “And then what happened?” Nico pressed.

  “Erm, why don’t you tell me about yourself?” Pierce suggested, changing the subject.

  “Oh.” He frowned, looking mournful. “My life is rather dull. I spent my childhood in an all boys’ school in France until I was eighteen. I have a dream about traveling abroad, but Father wouldn’t allow it. Now, I am in charge of running his business here in the Netherlands. I have no real home. I stay in the hotel.”

  “What’s keeping you from traveling? You’re not a child anymore.”

  “You mean, leave my responsibilities? Father would disown me. I would be cut off.”

  “Aye, I understand how that could hold you back, but are you willing to let your years pass you by without experiencing what could be waiting for you out there in the world?”

  Pierce knew what he was talking about. His entire life had been a nonstop adventure, which had pulled him in so many directions that it would make his brain spin if he ever tried telling his whole life story. Despite the fallouts and close calls with death, Pierce really had nothing much to complain about. He was alive, in fair health, and now had found his family, as well as a possible wife—if she ever spoke to him again, that is.

  “You think I should? Maybe I could come with you.”

  Pierce gave him a sidelong glance. “That wouldn’t be a good idea, lad.”

  Nico stayed silent a moment.

  “Pierce? Are you the Pierce Landcross, the thief who tried stealing from Queen Victoria?”

  Christ, even in the Netherlands people have heard about that?

  “You don’t need to answer,” Nico said at length. “But if you are, your secret is safe with me.”

  Pierce considered him. Nothing in his innocent expression suggested he harbored any ill will toward Pierce.

  “All right, lad.” Pierce sighed. “What do you want to know?”

  They traveled through the woodland and followed a path accompanied by verdant trees. Soon, the trees spread out around an open field with a pond set in it. The moment they e
merged from out of the woods, Pierce spotted a cottage at the forest’s edge. The outer walls were painted white with blue shutters beside each window, and there was a single stone chimney standing at its peak. A wraparound porch encircled the entire place. When they had reached his grandmother’s home, Pierce dismounted.

  “I’m not going in with you, yet,” Nico stated, staying on his horse. “She has no idea I switched her clues. I must make it up to her. I will hunt a rabbit for her.” He started riding off. “I shall not be long.”

  “Wonderful,” Pierce grunted.

  He climbed the steps to the front porch. He breathed in a nervous breath and knocked. He removed his hat and checked his hair in the reflection of the window. He supposed he looked presentable enough. When the latch turned down, he straightened his posture.

  “Oui?” asked the old woman who answered.

  “Madame Fey?”

  “Mademoiselle,” she quickly corrected. “I never married.”

  “Oh. Sorry. Erm. Not sure you’ll remember me, but I’m . . .”

  “Pierce?” she said, stepping out and placing her hands gently under his jawline. “Is it really you, mon enfant?”

  “Aye,” he answered perplexingly. “How did you know?”

  She pushed her spectacles farther up the bridge of her nose. “I’ve read about you in the papers through-out the years. Landcross isn’t a common name. Come inside.”

  He stepped in and the aroma of flowers that seemed to have no clear source greeted him. The house wasn’t large, only a simple, one-story structure with a wooden dining table near the hearth and a kitchen nearby. The wooden flooring appeared original, and the inner walls were the same as the exterior walls with a single mirror hanging beside the back exit. A pair of crossed swords hung above the fireplace mantel. There was a doorway on the left-hand side that may have led to the bedroom.

  He placed his hat on the table beside a candleholder and took a seat when she offered. She poured him tea that she had already brewed.

  “Expecting company?” he asked.