Your friend,
Your father,
Your husband,
Lucas
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The gathering at Lampton Parkhad been somber over the twenty-four hours since the reading of Father’s final messages to them all. Mingled with the feeling of renewed loss and longing was also a sense of peace. They’d been granted an almost miraculous moment of his presence among them again. Painful as it was to hear him speaking almost as it were from the grave, they’d had new words from him after thirteen years of believing he had said to them all that he ever would.
Charlie had not yet read the letter written to him, nor had he so much as looked at the book that had come with it. True to her word, Artemis had seen to both, assuring him they were safely placed where she could retrieve them the moment he was ready for her to do so. The lady whom he had, not long after first making her acquaintance, dismissed as too flighty and shallow to be depended upon, had shown herself to be a solid and dependable foundation. As remembrances of the emotional gathering the day before threatened to overwhelm him, he looked to her for reassurance and stability.
They were both in the small sitting room on the ground floor that afternoon, whilst those of his siblings who had little ones spent the day on the back lawn undertaking games and diversions. Charlie would normally have joined them, but he found his heart too heavy for the excursion.
He was sitting on a sofa, Artemis curled up beside him, her head resting on a pillow against his leg. He had hardly slept the previous night. His mind had refused to settle enough to allow him to even keep still. He’d paced the room whilst Artemis had slept fitfully on the bed. Her sleep had not appeared the least restful. It was little wonder she was sleeping so soundly now.
Mater slipped inside. She spotted him and smiled. He’d come to depend so much on her the last thirteen years; she was the one person in all the world he knew would always be pleased to see him.
Her gaze dropped to Artemis, and a look of empathy touched her expression. “Have we exhausted her?”
“We are a lot to endure when all together.” He brushed his hand over Artemis’s hair before settling it on her shoulder. “She told me, the day all the sisters went to the vicarage, that she very nearly cut off all her hair out of frustration with it.”
“Heavens, I’m glad she didn’t.”
Charlie nodded. “She has the most beautiful hair I’ve ever seen. And it is amazingly soft.” He ran his fingers over the golden curls again. “I like the feel of it.” He looked to Mater, cringing a little. “That’s probably strange of me, isn’t it?”
“Oh, Charlie,” she said kindly. “That is not strange at all. I daresay your brothers feel the same way about touching their sweetheart’s hair.”
“She’s not really my sweetheart,” Charlie said.
“Isn’t she though?” Mater moved her chair closer, then took his free hand in hers. “I watched the two of you yesterday during the reading of your father’s will. She comforted you as naturally and expertly as any of your sisters-in-law comforted their husbands. She held you to herself, and you clung to her in return, and nothing in either of your postures spoke of doing so simply because the other was conveniently located.”
Charlie wanted to believe her, but his heart warned him to proceed with caution. “Comforting someone in distress is not proof of a tender regard.”
“Then allow your current arrangement to serve as evidence,” Mater said. “A lady does not sleep as deeply as she is sleeping now in such close proximity to a gentleman for whom she has no ‘tender regard.’ And yet, she has not so much as stirred. She feels safe and protected and entirely at ease with you. That, my dear Charlie, is a remarkably good sign.”
“Linus said much the same thing.” Some of the tension around his heart began to ease. “Things have been better between Artie and me of late. Father’s friends have offered me some insights, things Father apparently did when you two were first married.”
A fond nostalgia touched Mater’s eyes. “What did they tell you?”
“That he focused on gaining your friendship, finding things you could do together that would be enjoyable without requiring either of you to suddenly be madly in love.”
She laughed lightly, leaning back in her chair and resting her clasped hands on her lap. “Did they suggest hide-and-seek? Because I would personally recommend that.”
Charlie grinned. “We played that with you and Father often growing up. I don’t remember much of him, but I remember that.”
“What else do you remember of him?” Mater asked.
“He used to run around the grounds with us and take part in our larks.”
“Your father had more energy than anyone I’ve ever met, and heavens, he loved being with children. Loved the games and the silliness. Their happiness mattered to him more than anyone else’s, I suspect.”
“Not more than yours,” Charlie said. “Idoremember that about him. None of us harbored even the tiniest doubt that you meant more to him than anything or anyone else in the entire world.”
She sighed, the sound as peaceful as it was sad. “I hope that is something each of you boys has carried into your own marriages. If your wives can know they matter to you, that will make all the difference in the world.”
“He used to bring you flowers,” Charlie said. “I’ve done that with Artemis, and she has told me she likes them, though I don’t know if the gesture has made a difference on a truly personal level.”
