Seryl 10th, 1513 – Carico Estate, Lothianshire, Albion

“If you don’t mind my saying… you are an idiot, brother dear. I love you. But you’re an idiot.” A voice whispered in Josh’s ear, causing him to jump and almost slam the library door.

Being a year older certainly hadn’t softened his sister any. Well, with Bet, he supposed that was only to be expected. He was a thin cover of fragile marble laid over a marshmallow center, Elizabet was diamond from the core out, only her physical appearance usually granted her any softness at all.

Tonight, however, even the usual softness granted to her by her hair and the clothing she wore had been traded for something else. Her costume, that of Lady Morgan le Fay, added an extra physical hardness to her. She certainly was shades of a legend in it, but if there was something that the Lady Morgan of legend and Elizabet shared, it was a distinct lack of the appellation “soft”.

“How,” his voice cracked slightly. He coughed into his hand and tried again. “How do you mean?”

“This is just like you, Josh. Just go in and talk to him.” Elizabet shoved at his shoulder. “I promise nothing’s changed.”

“That’s what you think.” Josh muttered. Elizabet rolled her eyes.

“Okay, let me rephrase that, except what’s going on in here.” She paused to tap the side of Josh’s head with a long finger. “Nothing has changed with him. You’re a better host than that.” Josh was starting to feel like Benoit, that was to say lost, in what should be a simple conversation to follow. He’d been doing okay until that sharp left turn at the end there. “Darin came to my party because you asked, in fact I’m pretty sure, given how much he protested whenever the party came up in conversation, that you insisted that he come.”

She sighed. “So he came and his date is in the ballroom chatting up other people and he’s hiding in the library with Ri, only she at least is pretending that she is interested in that book of poetry she’s holding, and he’s staring at the Orkney crest on the wall.” Elizabet shook her head one of the flowers woven into the dark strands of her hair threatening to slide out. “It is your duty as host of this event–and as the person who invited him–to make sure that Darin has a good time. So.” She poked him hard through the sleeve of his doublet. “Oww.” She complained. “What do you keep under that thing, Josh? Rocks?” She wandered off still muttering about how nothing good could come from a birthday where she hurt her finger on her brother’s bicep.

“You have better manners than that, Joshua Piers!” She called from the dining room door, waggling a finger in his direction. She was right, of course, damn her. He did have better manners than that. But she didn’t understand.

It had all started in the reception line. He’d caught sight of Darin in his costume as Florian Carey, the later years steward of Earl Pellinore, a rather ironic choice, as Florian was said to have a very peculiar sense of humor and a distinct sense of whimsy. Darin, so far as Josh had ever seen, had no sense of humor and wouldn’t know whimsy if it bit him in the arse. He could never imagine Darin holding a record for being kicked out of the most taverns in his time in Albion, managing to even beat Captain Jessiah Andavri for the record!

The blonde wig didn’t suit him. Josh had decided as he nodded in response to whatever Lord Henry had just muttered to him, briefly losing sight of Darin to the huge puffed shoulders of Lady Henry’s costume. It made his face look sallow and drawn, contrasting badly with the dusky tone of his skin and reinforcing the hollow hopelessness that was almost always lurking in Darin’s blue eyes.

He needed–he needed… His mind was pulled back onto what he was supposed to be paying attention to, which was the receiving line, by the sound of Lady Henry simpering to his mother.

“Oh, Lady Marisol, I was so grieved to hear that Lord Jayson would be missing this. I know that Henry wouldn’t have missed our girls debuts for anything. I would half expect him to crawl out of the grave to be at Julia’s. Such a shame that he couldn’t make it back from Camelot in time.”

Josh’s mother was obviously trying to wrangle whatever sharp thing that had been building behind her teeth into something appropriate to say at a party when the tension was defused by an unlady-like snort from the woman behind Lady Henry in the receiving line.

“What?” Lady Henry turned, affronted.

“Oh, nothing, I am sure you are terribly grieved,” Madame Cox smiled as she gave Elizabet a hug. “I, unfortunately, have mixed feelings on the whole thing. It certainly is a shame that the baron will miss this.” She winked at Elizabet. “But it does mean that Masen is still in Camelot too, which kind of dries any tears I might have over the whole thing.” Elizabet covered her mouth with her hand, probably covering a giggle as well. Josh’s mother was too well schooled to smirk, but he thought he detected a hint of a smile at the corners of her lips too.

“Surely you wouldn’t stand for Master Masen missing your own daughter’s debut!” Lady Henry asked, planting her hands on her hips. Lord Henry was looking like he was praying for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“It would honestly depend on why he was missing it.” Madame Cox said, ignoring Lady Henry’s stance to lean in and kiss Marisol’s cheek. “After all, the universe is the Lord Wright’s to control and not ours. And certainly should it be fire, flood, or act of Wright that was preventing him from being there, he’d be excused in my eyes!” She fluttered her lashes in Lady Henry’s direction.

Lady Henry stormed off to where Lord Henry stood waiting looking like he still wanted to be swallowed by the paving stones, forgetting to say anything to Josh at all. “What?” She hissed at him.

“I told you not to get into that with Lady Marisol, Katherine. It’s not like she’d miss that it was a jab at her.” Lord Henry muttered before heading off toward the house, their murmured conversation fading as they went. Madame Cox, then the Captain and Mrs. Cox followed through without further incident when Josh caught sight of Darin and his date as well.

“You might as well come up, Darin, we’ve already spotted you.” Elizabet called to the pair at the bottom of the stairs. “And you’ll have to forgive me for asking who this lovely young lady you’re escorting is.”

“This is Eve Rose.” Darin said. Marisol’s eyebrow shot up as she looked over her shoulder at Josh who shrugged. Actually he had known that Darin was planning on inviting Eve, but there was no way to gently break that bit of information to his mother, so he would just pretend that he hadn’t known. Whether it worked was anyone’s guess.

“Rose–any relation to Reginald? Or to Guardsman Colby?” Elizabet asked curiously.

“Aye.” Eve said with a smile. It was Elizabet’s turn to look at Josh, only her expression was puzzled. He shrugged again. “They’re my brothers.”

“Oh–I didn’t know that Colby was related to Reginald.” Elizabet said faintly.

“We don’t make much of a deal of it. There are people,” Eve looked at the back of Miguel’s gaudy tunic as it was disappearing into the distance. “who would make it into something it isn’t. Call Colby’s loyalty to the guard into question when there’s no need for it. He wouldn’t do that.” Elizabet nodded in seeming understanding, probably actual understanding, if Josh could follow it, then Elizabet could more than likely follow it that much easier. Not for the first time he thought that River Sulis would have a much brighter future if there were some way that he could step aside and let his sister take the barony when their father died. The last thing this town needed was an idiot like him in a position of rank.

As Eve, Josh’s mother, and sister fell into easy discussion of the various costumes, Josh was pinned in place by Darin’s blue eyes. A wave of something that he had been trying–for months–to ignore or mislabel swept over him. And like a sharp slap to the face it was impossible to mistake it for anything else, that wave of lust, woven tight with softer things; hope, comfort, security, (love?) all wrapped up in a pulse of “want, want, want”. When that one single, perfect moment passed, between one heartbeat and the next, a second wave of much more familiar emotion rolled in: hopelessness, cowardice, panic on the verge of physical pain. Still, he had been trained from the cradle to keep up appearances, and so he murmured out some mechanical formula to Darin and then to Eve. They too turned down the path toward the house. All Josh wanted to do was run. But he couldn’t. It was Elizabet’s debut party and he, despite what he wanted, had a job to do. He was the host.

Still, that was what had lead to him standing out in the hallway lurking outside the library. Knowing that Darin was miserable and that it was his duty, his responsibility to make him happier or at least more comfortable–but–being a coward and as Bet so gently reminded him, an idiot. Oh, he didn’t want to mess up everything he’d built with Darin with him being stupid. Darin had forgiven him a lot, including everything that had happened that night, but he’d never forgive him for this. And Josh would never forgive himself if he ever let on.

But Darin saw right to the quick on so many things, how could he hide this from him?

He had hated himself lots and lots of times, but never more than in the stasis he found himself in standing outside the door to the library. The question “why” pounding in his head in time to the pounding of his heart. Why me? Why him? Why now? Why this? Why-why-why?

He took a step back as a group of his father’s contemporaries headed for the library–or maybe the balcony outside of it where they could smoke their pipes and talk about things that sometime in the next ten years society dictated would become the very most important things.

A moment later, the door to the library opened and Josh caught sight of a green sleeve, hurriedly he turned toward an arrangement of roses on a side table and began fiddling with the positioning.

Darin hesitated for a moment, but apparently the ruse worked, for he turned and wandered off in the direction of the bulk of the party. Still caught up in self-loathing, still hating himself for doing it, Josh followed along silent as a shadow and just as insignificant.

Darin seated himself on one of the gold settes in the corner of the room. Josh’s mother had been threatening for years to recover them, firmly of the opinion that the gold didn’t go–but she hadn’t found a fabric that she liked in their place, so there they stayed.

“There’s a seat open, Darin.” Dell said jerking his chin at the empty seat at one of the card tables. “Oww. What was that for?” He reached down to rub his right shin.

“For being stupid.” Severus said. Josh sighed to himself. Being stupid indeed.

“Are you sure?” Jules asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Nah, I’m not much of a poker player.” Liar, Josh thought, Darin was a helluva card sharp, Josh knew he played a lot with his own friends. He just didn’t play with Josh’s friends. It was just a lot of tutoring sessions to put into stakes. They thought nothing of tossing in a few silvers to a “friendly” game. Darin had to think of it, he didn’t have the luxury of thinking that money was unimportant.

“Besides, I’m more fascinated by the schoolteacher hustling the nun at billiards.” Darin joked, jerking his head toward where the Mrs. Coxes were playing an absolutely cutthroat game. Madame Cox laughed before turning toward Josh, who was still lurking in the doorway, eyebrow arched. Josh hurried into the room, trying not to look like he was hurrying. Somehow he didn’t think it worked to fool her. He dropped, hopefully casually, into the seat next to Darin.

“I meant to ask, Madame Cox, who are you supposed to be?” Charlie asked, turning in his chair to look over his shoulder.

“See, that’s the trouble with attempting to be clever,” she said to the room at large. “You never know if you’re succeeding in being clever or if you’re missing the mark. Heloise.”

“Pardon?”

“Heloise–the elder daughter of the first branch of Wesleyans in Albion. She’s a distant ancestor of mine or so the family legend goes.”

“The one who published all those scandalous treatises?”

“Aye.” Madame Cox said. “We both share a talent for saying things that are–mildly–scandalous.” Mrs. Cox choked. “Oh, c’mon, those books weren’t so bad.” She nudged the woman dressed in the nun’s habit with her elbow.

“Yes, Annette, they were!”

“They’re educational at the very least.” Madame Cox said blandly.

“I could have gone my whole life without that kind of education.” Mrs. Cox said primly. “It’s your turn.”

“So,” Josh said almost freezing again when Darin turned those heart-of-the-ocean blue eyes on him. “How you are doing?” Darin’s brow rose sharply, though it was half obscured by the blonde strands falling in his face.

“Words fail me.” Darin said. Aye, I was afraid of that. Josh thought.

“Hmmm. Well would you say it’s on par with the historical epic–or is it more like that Reman poetry recital?” Josh asked.

“More like that one time I walked into the hall by the salle and saw Brother Loki with his tongue in Brother Dustin’s mouth.” Darin told him blandly.

“Yeesh.” Josh said.

“Wait, you saw Loki kissing Dustin–and you didn’t tell us?” Edouard asked, slurring just slightly. His head was going to kill him in the morning. It was a good thing that they had the week off of courses. Of course it was no real surprise that he’d hit the bottle at any occasion. Josh didn’t know what he was drinking to forget, but he’d lay a month’s pocket money that whatever it was… it was something serious.

“…Aye.” Darin said after a long moment.

“Why?”

“I guess cause they–um–like each other? Why do most people kiss?” Josh couldn’t see Darin’s expression, but could hear his eyes rolling in his voice.

“No, I mean why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because I know what you’d likely do with the knowledge.” Darin asked. “C’mon, I’m the orphaned street rat, you’re the gentlemen. If I have the manners not to gossip and make fun of them, you should know better yourselves, but that’s never stopped you before. What business is it of any of ours if Loki and Dustin are–um–fond of each other?”

“Father Remi says that it’s a mortal sin.” Jules said rubbing the back of his neck.

Josh heard Darin’s sharp intake of breath and nudged him slightly. “Well, if  Father Remi said that the sky was blue, I would probably go stick my head outside and check that it hadn’t turned green with violet spots before I believed it.” Darin said folding his arms over his chest and slumping back into the settee.

Josh leaned toward him and murmured “Nicely said.” by his ear. Darin glanced and him and shrugged again. Josh nodded and stared at his boots for a long moment, trying to pull his heart back out of his throat and into his chest where it belonged, feeling the hammering of his pulse to the soles of his feet. What am I going to do?

Tyves 16th, 1513 – River Sulis, Lothianshire, Albion

The big iron gate squealed as Anna-Marie pushed against it, sending up a tortured sounding shriek. And of course with the dusk had come a summer storm, which was building up fog like some giant blowing smoke rings. She bit her lip and tried to orient herself. She didn’t come here very often. She didn’t have any reason to.

She knew–at least in daylight–how to get to where Cookie and Ayla were, Darry had brought her a couple of times. And once, just once, Elias had brought her to see his mama. Anna-Marie shivered as a cool breeze made it’s way up her back, or maybe it was the way that same breeze stirred the fog.

There was a lantern at every crossroads. And there was a statue of some sort, with lanterns by Elias’ mama, so, hopefully she wouldn’t lose her way. Oh, why couldn’t she have just told Mama or Papa where she thought Elias was and let them go try and find him. Because this was her fault and it was too like what Romeo’d do to just drop fixing it into someone else’s lap.

She sucked in a deep breath, her head twisting around. She wasn’t scared–or at least until an owl hooted, somewhere out there in the dark, and she jumped. Maybe a little scared. And grass rattled behind her and she was lost.

“Yer alright, sweetie.” A voice seemed to say from somewhere out there in the mist. But she didn’t see anything. “Just head up th’ rise there an ye’ll see the lanterns.” It was a strange voice, sorta like someone whispering in her ear, sorta like someone speaking in her head.

It couldn’t be anything too bad. This was a churchyard and the Lord Wright wouldn’t let anything bad happen to anyone in a churchyard. So, maybe–well, if the lady was right, there’d be light ahead and she could see, and if she wasn’t then Anna-Marie could just turn right around and walk back down the rise and find the path again.

Easy, right? Again there was a feeling of something out there in the mist, like an arm settling around her shoulder, a smell like warm baking bread and cinnamon and–floor wax? But she still couldn’t see anything. But she squared her shoulders and marched up the rise that voice had wanted her to climb and yes, right there, ahead was some sort of statue. A big crescent moon with lanterns hanging off it under a big old weeping willow tree. And just off in the mist she could see the statue of St. Vivian.

Anna-Marie thought she knew where she was now and the feeling, the smell started to float away into the mist, with one last ghostly sensation of someone smoothing her hair back. “Thank you.” She whispered to whatever it had been with her.

She walked a little closer to the moon-statue-thing. “Who’s there?” A suspicious voice called out, sharp and much more sim than what had been with her in the dark and the mist. And it was a familiar one.

“Elias?” She asked, peering around the moon statue.

“What do y’want?” He sounded near as sullen as Romeo. To make this right. She thought. Because nobody should be out here in the mist. Not when they could be home with their family snug in their house.

“I wanted to ‘pologize.” She told him, though he didn’t move.

“How’d you know I’d be here.” He asked, staring up at the sky.

“Cause your mama’s here?” Anna-Marie bit her lip. “I wanted my mama and papa tonight too an’ Romeo was a lot meaner to you.”

“My papa doesn’t care.” Elias said.

“Elias Butcher, don’t be a stupid-head. I knewed you were missin’ cause your papa came to our house looking for you, an’ your step-mama too.” Anna-Marie planted her hands on her hips and glared at him.

“My papa came to your house?” Elias said, his voice cracking a little. “I don’t believe you!” He added a moment later, loud, it seemed to bounce off the mist and the trees. Anna-Marie took a deep breath, getting ready to shout him down. Maybe she was dumb and this was her fault, but Elias was being dumb too.

“Anna-Marie!” Her mama called from somewhere in the mist behind us.

“Elias, oh, Wright you scared me.” Elias’ papa said, pounding up out of the fog, Mrs. Butcher hard on his heels. “What were you thinking?” If he still thought that his papa didn’t care about him, Anna-Marie would give him such a piece of her mind.

“‘M sorry, papa.” He said, face crumpling. “I didn’t mean to make you worry. Y’shouldn’t haveta worry ’bout me.”

“‘Course I’m gonna worry about ye, Elias.” Mr. Butcher knelt next to Elias who buried his face in his hands. Maybe this was what Romeo didn’t understand, maybe the Lord Wright had made it so people could cry for a reason. Because sometimes you were hurt and the hurt needed to get out somehow. “Ye’re my son.”

“But you have Kian now.” Elias whimpered.

“That doesn’t change what I have with ye, Elias. You will always be my son, even when I’m old and totterin’ around on a cane and ye are too.” Mr. Butcher pulled Elias against him as the sky started to cry too. “Ye’re stuck with me worrin’ ’bout you.”

“Papa,” He shook his head and started to try and pull away from his papa, but Elias’ papa was smarter than that, or maybe he’d just figured out he’d forgotten one too many hugs because he just pulled Elias closer.

“Why would you run off, Elias?” Mr. Butcher asked as Elias sniffled and sobbed into his hands.

“Cause Romeo said you don’t love me no more cause you’ve got the twins.” Elias sobbed out and that seemed all he could sob out because he became incoherent after that. Anna-Marie swallowed hard.

“Romeo? Romeo Rose from next door? Why would he tell you that?” Mr. Butcher asked.

“Cause I told his papa that he’d been teasing Elias an’ callin’ him a crybaby.” Anna-Marie said, dinner and guilt swirling together and trying to climb up her throat from her tummy. “An’ Guardsman Rose told Romeo he had to do double chores til Hybel cause he’d been being a bully an’ so Romeo come out and told us that of course we’d tattle cause you don’t love Elias no more with Kian and Violet ’round.”

“And he didn’t say anything to you?” Mr. Butcher asked.

“He didn’t get the chance, Anna-Marie punched him in the face ‘fore he could.” Elias muttered to his hands. Elias’ papa stared hard at Anna-Marie for a moment, before stroking Elias’ hair.

“Well, Romeo is wrong, Elias. I love ye so much and I wouldn’t never fergive m’self if anything happened to ye. Never.” Mr. Butcher said. “An’ I suppose I deserve ye thinkin’ ye couldn’t tell me ’bout Romeo.” He shook his head “But why didn’t ye tell Star. I thought–,” He trailed off looking at his wife.

“She isn’t my mama.” Elias reminded him.

“Well, no, she’s not. But.” Mr. Butcher sighed.

“An’ if I start thinkin’ about her like a mama, won’t I forget my mama?” Elias asked.

“Oh, Elias. No, ye won’t forget yer mama. She’s in here.” He put his hand over Elias’ heart. “An’ she’ll always be there. She’s there in ye an’ in Marina an’ she’ll be there whenever you need her. But sometimes…” He trailed off again.

“Sometimes you need a friend, eh?” Mrs. Butcher said, speaking for the first time. “An’ if you need a friend, you can come to me anytime, okay?” Elias nodded. Mrs. Butcher leaned down and gave him a quick hug. “Now, at the risk of sounding like a mama, it’s raining and this mist is getting mistier by the moment an’ we should all get home before we’re soaked to the bone.”

Mr. Butcher put an arm around Elias’ shoulder and lead him off into the gloom, Mrs. Butcher close by the other side. “Papa Bear is right.” Anna-Marie’s mama said. “We can’t fault your heart. But sometimes, me lass, I wonder ’bout your brains.” She ruffled Anna-Marie’s hair before they too walked off into the mist.

—

Tyves 18th, 1513

“Colby!” Eve gave him an enthusiastic, just shy of bone crushing hug. “I was beginning to think you were a figment of my imagination. Reggie says you come by, but it’s always when I’m at lessons.”

“Sorry, Eve. When you’re at lessons is when I can get away.” Colby told his baby sister.

“You could bring the kids with you. I can play with them while you talk with Reggie.” Eve told him with a light poke in the torso. While Eve was a ball of energy, a comet of laughter and warmth that could light up any room, attention pretty much always settled on the man on the other side of the desk.

Even just sitting casually, white shirt stretched taut over broad cafe au lait shoulders, energy seemed to pulse and swirl around him. There really was no question as to how Reggie could hold an empire the size he did, five minutes in his company would tell you that even if Miguel, Captain of the idiots as well as the Guard of River Sulis always wondered it.

Colby could have told him, of course, but he chose to not remind people that he and Reggie were related. Miguel would either question Colby’s loyalty–or he’d come up with some moronic plan for how to use Colby against his brother.

“So what does bring you here?” Eve flounced into one of the ornate chairs on this side of the desk.

“Well… I need advice.” Colby admitted to his hands. And he might be a man grown with four children, but he still came to his elder brother when he needed it.

“Divorce your wife and set your eldest son up as a cabin boy under a captain with a hard reputation, I know a few, if you’d like some recommendations.” Reggie said with a smirk.

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” Colby snorted sarcastically.

“Well, I think it’s good advice.” Reggie sending a wink to Eve.

“Romi would never forgive me if I sent Romeo away.” Colby said.

“He’d come back–hopefully with some sort of better perspective and a work ethic. And maybe not be such a little brat.” Reggie told him, thoughtfully. “But what did you need advice on?”

“Well, Romeo–actually. The Osmonts little girl, Anna?” Colby frowned that didn’t sound quite right.

“Anna-Marie.” He should have known that Reggie would know. He probably knew the name of every chicken in River Sulis, let alone ever child.

“Aye. Anna-Marie dragged the Butcher boy over to my house on Saturday. Romeo’s apparently been bullying the kid something fierce. And don’t say you told me so. I know you did.”

“When do I ever say I told you so?” Reggie asked with a quirked eyebrow. Okay, well, he didn’t say he told you so, even when he had. With Colby he didn’t have to. Colby was so used to hearing it from his wife that even if no one else said it, he still knew it.

“I made him apologize to the boy and gave him extra chores for a couple months in hopes that that might straighten him out–just a little.” Colby sighed. “But right after I gave him the punishment, he went outside and picked another fight with Elias.” Reggie shook his head. “But he might have bit off more than he could chew, because he did come back in the house with a bloody nose.”

“Elias Butcher gave Romeo a bloody nose?” Eve asked, sounding startled. How would–oh, yeah, Marina, Elias’s older sister was old enough to run in the same crowd that Eve did. She probably knew the kid enough to know that it was highly unlikely. Colby couldn’t claim to know either kid well, he didn’t have any children Marina’s age and quite obviously Elias wasn’t one of Romeo’s regular cronies.

“No. I’m pretty sure the bloody nose probably came from Anna-Marie.” Reggie said with a wry chuckle. “The Osmont girl is a spit-fire if nothing else.”

“Oh.” Eve said with a nod.

“So obviously taking the trash out every night isn’t going to solve the problem.” Colby sighed. “But hell if I know what to do with him that might make him see the error of his ways.”

“You could send him over here.” Reggie told him.

“Even if Romi wouldn’t flip, I’m not sure that Romeo would see that as a punishment.” Colby told him. Thinking back to all the times he had heard Romeo lording it over other children that his uncle was Reginald Rose.

“He’d probably get it soon enough if I have him helping old Ed spread manure in the flowerbeds and he gets stuck polishing the marble.” Reggie said.

“I dunno, Reg. Romeo seems to think that he’s gonna grow up to be just like you some day. Not me, slaving away at the city guard with nothing to show for it.”

“Because your wife doesn’t understand the concept of a budget.” It was Eve who said that, but still Colby winced.

“Still, he thinks being–what you are is–flashy.” Colby said with a sigh.

“He’ll never be what I am, unless he changes his personality entirely. And quite honestly I wouldn’t hire him, even as a grunt, with any personality I see him growing. But you’re right that we need to do something because I can think of a few people who would love to put one in your eye and mine by hiring him on.” Reggie folded his hands before standing up and heading over to pour himself some wine.

“I know what we do.” Eve said with a grin. “We do like Reggie suggested and have him come over to sweep floors and polish the marble and spread the manure and what not. And then we don’t bother hiding all the disreputable characters that Reggie has to deal with on a day to day basis from him like usual.”

“It’s partially our fault that he thinks it’s so glamorous to be–whatever Reggie is.” Eve sighed. “We have tried our best to hide the bad parts from the kids, you just still try and hide the worst parts from me when you can.” Colby and Reggie shared a shrug. “But if he sees some of the absolutely creepy guys who waltz in and out of this office, maybe he’ll see it’s not all sunshine and roses.”

“Maybe.” Colby said dubiously. “Romi won’t like it though.”

“Well, tell her if she’d discipline your kid then you wouldn’t have to send him to me.” Reggie told Colby flatly. Colby sighed. “It’s part of being a parent–or at least acting in a parental capacity.”

“Speaking of things parents have to do that aren’t fun, Reggie, you still haven’t told me if I can go to Lady Elizabet’s birthday party with Darin yet.”

“Darin–Sara-Beth’s Darin?”

“Aye.” Reggie and Eve nodded. “Darin seems to have gotten some sort of in with the baron’s son.” Reggie shrugged.

“Aye, I figured as much when Darin got caught on a pub crawl with Lord Joshua. But–still–Darin?”

“What’s wrong with Darin?” Eve asked planting her hands on her hips.

“Well, you’ve gotta admit, Eve, this family hasn’t had the best of luck, romantically speaking, with that family.  And Darin is Sara-Beth’s brother through and through.” Colby sighed.

“It’s an invitation to a fancy dress party not a marriage proposal.” Eve tossed her head.

“I don’t know why you’re waiting for me to say yes, even if I said no, you’d just poke me til I said yes, so aye, you can go with Darin to the party.”

“Goody. Tell Romeo to be over after school tomorrow.” Eve said skipping toward the painting that hid a door between Reggie’s office and the private family portion of the house.

“That girl.” Colby sighed.

“Meh, she keeps me on my toes.” Reggie said. “And she’s a good kid.” Colby nodded and wished, just for a moment, whatever magic Reggie possessed, that it would be enough to make his son into what anyone would call a good kid.