Rescued By A Viscount(73)

Claire’s ride to London had left her muscles aching and her head a mass of turbulent thoughts. She had hoped the time alone would give her clarity, yet she was more conflicted than ever. She loved Simon–there was no doubt in her mind about that–and the thought of marrying him was a dream she knew with only a few words she could put into reality. But did he really wish to marry her? He’d said he did and she wanted to believe him. They needed to talk alone so she could be sure his insistence was not motivated by honor.

“We are seeing Simon?”

“Yes, Louis, we will see Simon.” She squeezed his hand gently.

Her interview with Mathew had started well enough, with him showing concern over her early return and asking what had occurred. Then things had steadily grown worse as she’d explained where she had been. Simon had arrived when Mathew had started yelling, and his words had warmed her. He had said her heart was bigger than any he knew and that she was brave and beautiful.

Approaching her brother’s study, she heard only the rumble of male voices, yet no yelling. Surely that was a good thing? Leading Louis in, she found her brother and Simon seated, conversing with each other over Mathew’s desk. Simon rose and came to her as she approached.

“Have you eaten all the food in the kitchens, Louis?”

The boy flashed a small smile and nodded.

“I will surely have to seek employment to keep my pantry stocked, then.”

“Dear Christ, he is the image of Anthony as a child, Claire.” The words were a hoarse whisper from behind Simon. Claire picked up Louis and held him close.

“Introduce Louis to his uncle, Claire.” Simon brushed her cheek with a warm hand as he spoke, and she wanted to lean into him and feel his strength. “He will not hurt either of you, and if he does, I will kill him.”

The words were spoken in jest, yet Claire knew if Mathew said or did anything Simon did not like, then he would make the man pay, and it was that knowledge that gave her the strength to leave his side and face her brother.

“Louis, say hello to your uncle.”

Mathew came to meet Claire as she moved around the desk. “His eyes are identical.” The wonder in Mathew’s words mirrored those of Claire’s when first she’d met the boy. “It is as if Anthony is here in this room with us.”

Louis let Mathew place a hand on his head as her brother came to terms with what was before him. She saw that his fingers shook as he slid them down one soft cheek and cupped Louis’s chin. “Will you ever forgive me for my ignorance, Claire? For nearly losing him and the chance to let Anthony’s legacy live on in our lives?”

It was the tear that rolled down his cheek that undid her. Her strong brother, the man who seemed to need no one or nothing, was crying. “I only said what I did to protect you and mother. I never truly thought a child existed, Claire. I need you to believe that.”

“Mathew, we have a nephew,” was all Claire said as she leaned into him with Louis. “He’s ours to love, brother, and it is my belief that he has not had much love in his past, so we have much to make up for.”

She felt his arms wrap around them, and his cheek rested on top of her head. “I will make it up to you, Claire—to both of you,” he vowed.

“There is nothing to make up, Mathew. We start with our future now—today. The past, we leave behind.”

She felt his lips in her hair. “Yes, Claire, we start to live today.”

Sniffing, Claire stood once more. “He speaks only French, Mathew, so we have much to teach him.”

“Hello, Louis,” Mathew said in faultless French.

“Hello,” Louis replied in his gruff little voice.

“How old is he?”

“Six, we believe,” Simon said, coming to her side.

“Will you let your new uncle hold you, Louis?” Claire questioned her nephew.

“Do you have food in your drawers, Belmont?”

Looking puzzled, Mathew went to his drawers and opened one. He found a small twist of paper containing toffee, which Claire knew was his weakness.

“Your uncle has food, Louis.” Simon said and laughed as the boy held out his arms towards Mathew. “He has a ferocious appetite.”

They watched Mathew hold the boy gently, settling into his chair as he opened the paper and fed the sweets to him one at a time. “You should have told me about your sleep problems, sister.”

Claire looked from Simon to Mathew, then back to Simon. “You told him?”

“You should have told him long ago, Claire. This was not a burden you needed to carry alone.”

“It was my problem. You had no right to tell him, Simon.” Claire said as she felt her old uncertainties rise.