Page 87 of The Forsaken (Echoes from the Past #4)

SEVENTY-SIX

London, England

Quinn deftly changed Alex’s nappy, stuffed him into an unbearably cute outfit, and put him down for a nap, hoping against hope that he would just drift off.

Alex was a happy baby, but he still woke up hungry at least once during the night and craved the company of his parents round the clock.

As though leaving him alone in his cot was paramount to abandoning him to die on the side of a mountain, he whimpered and cried until someone came back into the room.

He didn’t demand to be picked up, but he liked the presence of another person, particularly if that person was Quinn, because in her case, company also meant a snack.

Perhaps she’d get a break once Seth arrived and Alex had one more adoring adult to manipulate.

Seth was coming in two weeks, just in time to treat them to an all-American Thanksgiving, something Quinn was looking forward to.

She’d always thought it was a lovely holiday, and this year she had much to be grateful for.

Seth had promised to cook the whole meal as long as Quinn stocked the fridge with the required ingredients, including raw cranberries.

Lord only knew where she’d get those. Or yams. She’d leave that to Gabe.

He’d always enjoyed a challenge. They’d invited Logan and Colin, Jill and Brian, and Pete and Brenda McGann for their upcoming feast. It’d be nice for Seth to meet their nearest and dearest, and feel welcomed into the fold.

Quinn hoped Phoebe would come down as well to meet her fellow grandparent.

She had more than twenty years on Seth, but Quinn thought they’d get on like a house on fire.

Alex glared at Quinn from between the bars of the cot, preparing to holler if she so much as considered leaving the room .

“Okay, you little rascal, perhaps a walk will lull you to sleep,” Quinn said. She was tired, but fresh air would do her good, and besides, she had much to consider.

She dressed Alex for the outdoors, settled him in his pram, and headed out the door and toward the lift.

Emma was at school, and Gabe at work, so she and the baby were on their own.

The day outside was overcast, but not unpleasant.

Falling leaves twirled in the air, landing at Quinn’s feet as she walked down the street, enjoying the autumn chill.

She used to hate this time of year, when everything began to shrivel up and die, but she’d learned to see the beauty in bare branches interlaced against the cool blue of the autumn sky, and enjoy the anticipation of the upcoming holiday season, since for the first time since her parents had retired to Spain, she had a family to spend Christmas with.

Got you! Quinn thought gleefully as Alex’s eyelids began to droop after nearly half an hour of walking.

Perhaps now she could find a bench and sit down for a while.

What a blessing mobile phones were for new mums. While Alex slept, Quinn was able to catch up on her correspondence, return calls, send texts, and even do some research.

She’d been reading up on the Wars of the Roses, but still hadn’t returned to the past to see what had happened after Kate’s death.

Now that Alex was six weeks old and Quinn was almost fully healed from the cesarean section, it was time to return to work.

Rhys was patiently—or more accurately, impatiently—waiting for her report, desperate to begin the casting process for the new episode.

The series finale was already in production, being filmed on a sound stage in Wales that had been transported to the pre-Civil War South, and the first episode of Echoes from the Past was due to air in a few weeks.

It was time to complete her presentation for this episode and move on to the next one, yet to be determined, though Rhys had said he had a few ideas in the works.

There was much to accomplish on a personal front as well.

After much deliberation, Phoebe had decided to sell the manor house and move into a retirement community in Berwick.

Her guilt at parting with her husband’s ancestral home was diluted by the promise of being closer to her dear friend Cecily Creston-Jones and the lure of all the activities they could enjoy together.

The retirement community offered a wide range of classes for seniors, which appealed to Phoebe, who’d never really pursued any hobbies besides looking after her husband.

She’d always wanted to try pottery and was warming up to the idea of chair yoga.

Gabe fully supported Phoebe’s plan to sell, and had promised to do everything in his power to make the process easier for his mum.

“Once the house is sold and the death duties are paid, I will give what’s left to you,” Phoebe had promised.

“With the proceeds from the sale of your own homes, you’ll be able to afford a nice, spacious house in London for your growing family.

” Phoebe had been barely able to keep the smile off her face as she contemplated more grandchildren.

“Your father would have wanted you to have the money,” she’d explained, silencing Gabe’s protests. “He left me comfortably provided for.”

Quinn had to admit that the prospect of a house of their own thrilled her.

Perhaps it would even have a garden where the children could play and she and Gabe could enjoy on fine days.

They were terribly cramped in Gabe’s flat, but Quinn’s little chapel in Suffolk was even smaller, never having been intended to house a family.

She’d be sorry to part with it, but now that she was married with two children, she no longer had any use for it.

She hoped whoever bought it would get as much pleasure and solace from it as she had.

The wind picked up and the sky darkened, threatening rain.

Quinn put away her mobile and sprang to her feet.

It was time to return home. She set a brisk pace, hoping to outrun the downpour and actually made it into the foyer of the building just as fat, lazy raindrops began to plop onto the sidewalk.

Tonight, once Alex was down for the night, she would ask Gabe for the sword and see what had transpired after Kate hemorrhaged to death.

Quinn didn’t relish witnessing Guy’s heartbreak, but it was time to find out how this sad tale ended.