Page 27 of How the Belle Stole Christmas

The carriage shuddered to a halt in front of Coldharbor Manor, and before it had even fully stopped, Silas was out, his boots splashing in the icy slush. He reached back into the carriage, and Grace handed Emmaline out into his waiting arms just as the door of the house swung open.

Curruthers appeared, eyes wide with surprise that instantly transformed into quick determination. “Bring her in, my lord. The doctor is already waiting in the green bedroom.”

Silas took the grand marble staircase two steps at a time, turning to the right and bursting through the door of one of the long-unused guest bedrooms decorated in soothing shades of green.

A doctor sat beside the bed, looking annoyed to have been sent for on Christmas, but his attitude changed when he saw the sick child in Silas’s arms.

“Lay her down here,” the doctor commanded, all business as he rolled up his sleeves. “What seems to be the matter with her?”

“She’s had a racking cough and a high fever for weeks,” Grace said, coming into the room just as Silas laid their daughter on the bed, her features flushed from trying to keep up with Silas’s long-legged strides. “I can hardly get her to eat anything.”

The doctor nodded and leaned over Emmaline, placing his fingertips to her temple and then leaning to press his stethoscope to her chest.

Grace watched with breathless anticipation, her eyes never leaving her daughter’s face.

Silas shifted uncomfortably, feeling suddenly awkward and unnecessary, as though he were intruding on a very private moment.

Then reality hit him. It still seemed impossible to believe, but he was Emmaline’s father.

He belonged here. He belonged with them.

Hesitantly, he moved in closer until he was standing right by Grace’s side.

The doctor spent a few more minutes examining her, then looked up at them, his face etched with concern.

If he had any qualms over Grace and Emmaline’s bedraggled state, he didn’t voice them.

“I believe she has pneumonia. I’ll give her something to bring the fever down, and we’ll have to keep a close eye on her.

She’ll need lots of rest and liquids and warmth, but I think she will be all right. ”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Grace murmured, her voice choked with tears.

“You’re welcome,” the doctor said, giving them both a kind smile before turning away to prepare the medicine.

Grace met Silas’s gaze with a look that carried years of history—anger, loss, and yes… love. So much still needed to be said, so many apologies yet to be made. But perhaps she still cared for him a bit. Perhaps he could still mend things between them.

Silas cleared his throat, wanting to reach for her so badly he ached. Where did he even start to make up for all that he’d done wrong? “Thank you for being strong, Grace, for both of you. I don’t know how you survived all these years.”

Grace tilted her head, her eyes still searching his. “I had no other choice,” she said softly, and fresh guilt nearly overwhelmed him.

Before he could say more, Emmaline stirred beneath the covers, her eyes fluttering open. She looked from her mother to Silas. “Is it still Christmas?” Emmaline asked, her voice a mere breath of sound.

“It is, my darling,” Grace answered, with a glance at Silas. “And we’re at your father’s house.”

“My father?” Emmaline breathed, her gaze locking with Silas’s. “Is it really you?”

He stepped forward, bending over the bed and taking her tiny hand in his.

“Yes,” he replied, the word nearly breaking him.

“Yes, it’s really me.” He felt exposed, raw.

“I’m here now, and I’m never leaving you again.

I’m going to take care of you, Emmaline.

You and your mother. You’ll never want for anything again. ”

Grace studied him, eyes dark and uncertain. She turned back to Emmaline, her fingers gentle and sure as she stroked the girl’s hair. “It’s all right,” she murmured, her gaze returning to Silas. “We’re all right.”

He knew that she feared his promises were empty, that his sudden reappearance would bring more harm than good.

But he also saw a flicker of the courage Emmaline had spoken of in her story—the kind of courage that could still change everything.

He took another step closer to Grace, his heart pounding, and knew he must make her believe.

“You’ve been worried and exhausted for so long,” he murmured. “Why don’t you go to the room I’ve had made up for you? Take a hot bath and sleep for an hour or two. I will stay here with Emmaline. I won’t leave her. If anything happens, I promise I’ll come get you.”

“I can’t leave her,” she whispered fiercely.

“You can,” he assured her. “The doctor and I will be here. I know you’re used to doing it all on your own, but you don’t have to anymore. She’s just going to rest, so you can too.”

He could tell by her expression that the mere concept of taking care of herself was foreign.

She’d worked herself to the bone trying to provide for their daughter, counting every penny, while he sat here alone in this mansion, purposely depriving himself of comfort, though he had more money than he knew what to do with. They both had a lot of changing to do.

She stared at him for a long moment, then finally nodded.

She must be on the brink of collapse to even consider it, he thought sadly.

She crossed the room to Emmaline’s side and leaned over the bed, pressing her lips to the child’s brow.

“I’ll be just down the hall, Emmy. Call for me if you need me.

But for now, your father is going to sit with you. ”

When she straightened, tears welled in her eyes, but he thought they were probably tears of happiness and relief, knowing that she could finally relax a bit, that Emmaline was going to be all right.

As she passed him on the way out the door, he grabbed her hand, the first time he’d touched her after all these years. “After you wake up, we should talk,” he told her. “There is so much I need to say to you.”

“All right,” she said stiffly, pulling her hand away. “When I wake up.”

After the door closed behind her, he watched the doctor administer the medicine.

Then he spoke to the man for a few more minutes, getting more reassurance that Emmeline would be all right.

The doctor gave him some instructions and told him to send for him if anything changed, then promised to return the next day.

Then, finally, Silas was alone with his precious daughter.

He sank into a comfortable chair at her bedside and took her fragile hand in his. He shuddered as he remembered the small headstone and prayed, for the first time in years, that this was enough, that he’d gotten to Emmaline and Grace in time.

“I’m sorry, little one,” he breathed. “I’m so bloody sorry that I haven’t been there for you.”

“It’s all right,” she assured him. “I’m just so happy to meet you at last.”

Tears stung his eyes at her easy forgiveness, which he knew he didn’t deserve. But he would take it. He couldn’t change the past, but he could and would change the future.

He sent a maid to collect one of his favorite books, and then he read to Emmaline until she fell asleep.

Her breathing became slow and steady, and over the next hour, her fever nearly completely subsided.

As he sat there in silence, he could hear distant conversation, laughter, the clanging of pots and pans, and moving furniture.

His house had come alive in the last few hours.

He was surprised by how it warmed his heart to hear his servants cheerfully going about their duties, feeling the difference in the air now that he’d given them some room to be themselves, to be happy.

He didn’t want that warmth ever to go away again.

He wanted to care about the people in his life and allow them to care for him as well.

Why hadn’t he realized that in depriving himself of human contact and kindness, he’d made things miserable not only for himself but for those around him as well?

When he thought about all the impossible rules he’d set in place for his staff, he was filled with shame.

He gripped his daughter’s hand a little tighter. Thank you, Spirits, for giving me this second chance. I promise I won’t waste it.