The Regimental Heroes Anthology(37)
Vivienne cut him off, “Boys will you go and play down the hall for a moment so I can speak with Lord John… alone.”
“What is this about?”
“It’s about you. Graeme misses you. He’s barely seen you in weeks.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“I understand.” She took a calming breath and then said barely above a whisper so the boys would not overhear, “Graeme thinks you blame him for your father’s and your brother’s deaths.”
“What?” His eyes grew wide. “How could he possibly think—”
She put a hand on the sleeve of his coat. “He feels everyone around him dies and you haven’t seen him because of it.”
“Oh…my Lord.” John closed his eyes for a second before looking across the room at his nephew. “I never thought…” his voice faded.
“I know in our minds it does not make sense, but we are adults and he is only a child. Everyone grieves differently. It is the deduction Graeme’s formed. From what you told me, your father did not show compassion toward you, so I beg you sir, do not act the same with Graeme. He needs your commitment and if you can administer it, your love.”
He watched her for a moment then nodded and moved to the boys. To her surprise, he scooped both boys into his arms and bounced them on his hips before dropping them to their feet. “I need to work for a short time longer, but then I promise, I will stop. Go and play, but come back, and we will work on the ship. I’m putting the cannons on today.”
The boys whooped and ran at full speed out the French glass doors to the back lawn.
“Do you mind if I stay here until they return? I insisted if they came to see you, they needed to complete their lesson.”
“Rules.” He rolled his eyes but smiled. She wondered when the last time was he’d smiled?
John sat heavily behind the desk, jammed a hand under his chin, and sighed deeply.
Vivienne moved behind him and glanced out the windows to find the boys. When she turned back, she noticed the business forms scattered across his desk from the mill. John lifted the quill and began to write. Two of the letters in the first word he wrote were backwards. As he attempted the second word, he cursed and threw the quill to skip across the desk’s wood surface. “This is hell,” he muttered. “I would rather chew needles.”
She glanced at the other records. All invoices had similar words she assumed he’d written, all with backward letters and malformed words. Vivienne started to say something, but the boys burst through the door, red cheeked and out of breath.
“Have we played long enough?” Charlie asked.
Vivienne answered, “Yes. Boys, I want you to sit at the table and finish our lesson.”
The boys let out a communal groan.
“Will you help us, Uncle?” Graeme said and handed John a sheet of paper. “Please?”
“The word the boys are working on is ran. Can you write it on the paper for Graeme and then use it in a sentence?”
John reluctantly picked up the quill and then scribbled the word. The N and the A were reversed and the N was backwards.
“You and Charlie quickly ran across the field,” John said and handed Graeme the paper.
John did as he promised and for the evening left his work behind. Each boy was able to put a cannon on the HMS Resolute complete with pea-sized black cannon balls. They couldn’t be happier.
She was troubled by John’s struggles with work, so Vivienne asked one of the house staff to stay with the boys and sought John. She didn’t need to look far, he was in his study with the same pile of paperwork laid out before of him.
As she watched him from the door, she knocked. “I am sorry to bother you again.”
His eyes softened when he saw her. “Please, come and sit. I will not bite this time.” He gestured to a chair empty next to him, crossed his feet at the ankle, and sat back.
“I can only imagine how busy you have been the past weeks, but I am grateful for the time you spent tonight with Graeme. I saw an immediate lifting of his spirits.”
“Sometimes I need to be pulled from all of this.” He gestured to the piles of paper and ledgers.
Vivienne leaned forward and lifted the paper John wrote on earlier for the boys. “I have a question about when you write.”
“I barely write. Now you know the truth.” He let out a sarcastic laugh. “I can also barely read. I am stupid.”
“If you say you are ‘stupid’ one more time, I will be forced to slap you.”
He looked shocked at her words, but then grinned. “You wouldn’t.”