Watching, Toby felt the bone-deep sadness in the man, yet it was countered by a quiet rock-solid assurance that this parting was in his children’s best interests.
That letting them go and waving them goodbye was the best thing he could do for them.
Fellows’s strength in clinging so resolutely to that decision left Toby humbled, impressed, and deeply moved.
Diana came to the carriage door and watched for an instant, then she switched her gaze to Toby and met his eyes.
Their mutual unvoiced understanding of everything that fraught moment encompassed was shared in that brief exchange.
Then the horses shifted, jolting the coach. Gunter immediately soothed them, but the disruption reminded everyone of the passage of time.
Diana met Adrian’s eye and nodded. Not wanting to cry in front of the children, she’d taken her leave of him earlier, assuring him that she would take care of his children and wishing him as easy a time as God allowed over the coming weeks. Their friendship was one she would cherish all her life, and she’d told him so.
He’d tried to thank her for her help, but she’d brushed his words aside and simply stated, “It’s what people do for those they love.”
With that, she’d bustled off to organize some more so that her tears fell only on the inside.
Now she drew her gaze one last time from his and, beckoning, backed into the coach. “Come up, boys. It’s time we were away.”
She sat and met Helga’s eyes. “Do we have everything?”
Helga glanced at the racks above, then at the ceiling. “I can’t think of anything we haven’t packed. We’ve even got a water bowl for Bruno. And three balls.”
Diana nodded, her gaze shifting outside.
She watched as Adrian hugged his sons, first Bryce, then Roland. Then he straightened and touched their heads. “Go, now.” He gestured to the carriage steps.
Toby was there to help first Bryce, then Roland up. He didn’t propel either boy but was simply close enough to provide whatever help they needed.
Diana took over and directed the boys into their assigned positions, Bryce beside her, by the window opposite Evelyn, and Roland on Helga’s other side, opposite the space Toby would occupy beside Diana.
As, unusually somber and quiet, the boys settled on the seats, Diana saw Toby turn to Adrian and offer his hand.
Adrian gripped it and smiled wearily, yet warmly. “Thank you.”
Although Toby spoke softly, Diana heard him say, “Rest assured, we will get the children to England safely, even if I have to move heaven and hell to do it.”
Toby looked into Fellows’s eyes and let the man see his sincerity.
Fellows read his eyes and understood. His grip tightened for an instant, then he released Toby’s hand, cleared his throat, and rather hoarsely said, “Go, now, and Godspeed!”
Realizing Fellows was at the end of his reserves, Toby saluted him, then climbed into the coach and shut the door. He picked up his cane, which he’d left on the floor, and used the end to tap the ceiling.
The coach lurched as Gunter gave the horses the office, then started rolling down the street.
Through the windows, Toby and Roland looked back at the house. Everyone—Fellows, with his butler at his elbow, and all the staff who had assembled on the porch—waved. Silently. All there knew they were trying to avoid drawing attention to their departure.
Roland raised his hand and waved back, his young face already etched with loss, sorrow, and a touch of trepidation, then the coach turned, and he could no longer see his father.
Toby watched as Roland lowered his hand. The boy seemed to turn his attention inward. Toby knew well enough to let him be, at least for now.
On the other side of the coach, Bryce was quiet, yet didn’t seem fearful, while Evelyn was eagerly looking out of the window and all but bouncing on the seat.
Toby had told Gunter what route to take to leave the city. As the coach rattled past the city walls, Toby glanced at Diana.
She was looking at him, and their gazes met and held.
The sense of a break—of the end of one era of life and the beginning of another—swept over him.
