Page 31 of Zachary (Gentlemen of War #3)

Eveline

The next morning, the precise moment I stepped onto the foyer floor from the grand staircase, the butler found me. “Mrs. Turner, these missives arrived in your absence.” He handed me two letters. “And this one arrived this morning.”

The third bore an unfamiliar handwriting, most certainly the promised correspondence from Frederick. When I turned it over, I recognized the wax seal from the Tichborne earldom. My heart sped up as I stuffed the gathered letters into my pocket and entered the breakfast room.

“It’s good to have you back, Evie,” Lucas called from the end of the table. “Did Zach accompany you?”

I stepped over to the sideboard and retrieved a scone, slathering it with honey.

“No.” I shook my head. “With his father’s passing and Frederick taking his place as the new earl, there was business to attend to.”

“I am sad to hear of his loss,” Lucas quickly added. “Did he mention when he might return to Gottling?”

I hesitated to answer. I knew Zach wanted to hold the wedding here in a sennight, but would there actually be a wedding? Though I didn’t hold Frederick’s missive in my hands, it seemed to burn through the fabric of my dress, for it was all I could think of. I softly cleared my throat. “I’m not entirely sure.” I circled around toward the table once more and didn’t miss the perplexing looks that Lucas and Hunter shared.

“Was Frederick present?” Hunter asked and my mind flitted to the confrontation on the road. It could hardly be classified as pleasant dialogue, for he did nothing but dig a hole within my soul and plant a seed of mistrust.

“Evie?” Lucas questioned.

I had not moved and appeared frozen in my stance. “Oh, forgive me, Hunter, yes, he was there when I first arrived, then left for London in between. He only returned at the time of my departure.”

Hunter chuckled. “How fortunate for you that you saw so little of him.”

I thought back to when Frederick parted from my presence in the carriage and wondered if the two brothers found a way to be congenial for the short time that they both resided beneath the same roof… or did the new earl cast his younger brother out of his home posthaste?

I took a seat and swiftly finished my scone, excusing myself shortly thereafter. When I reached the door, I paused and turned to face the men once more. “What do you know of Frederick?” I asked. Both men hesitated. “More precisely, how is he received in society?” I bit my bottom lip. “I recall the Frederick of my childhood and, though I have not seen much of a difference, I have not seen him amongst his peers.”

“Why do you ask?” Lucas placed his fork down.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I only wondered.”

Lucas lifted his linen and wiped his mouth. “I know you didn’t have much interaction with him outside of the neighborhood gatherings, Evie, but even then, he paid little attention to the three of us.”

I nodded. This, I remembered.

Luke continued, “But I have never once seen Frederick show an inkling of kindness to Zach… ever.” He tilted his head and squinted his eyes. “Did something happen?”

I took a steady breath and my thoughts flitted to the weighty correspondence in my pocket once more. “N—no, it’s nothing. Thank you for your narrative.”

I curtsied and left the room. Many thoughts and questions rotated in dizzying succession. Who do you believe? Who do you trust? Who do you love?

Heading up to the third floor once more, I opened the nursery door and found Patrick playing blind man’s bluff with Joseph, Joseph’s nurse, Katrina, and Banja. I laughed as I watched the blindfolded Joseph try to identify his nurse, only she held out a wooden puppet in front of her.

I motioned to Banja. “I need to speak with Patrick for a moment,” I said. “But will return him shortly.”

Banja nodded and stopped the game momentarily. Patrick excitedly waved goodbye to everyone before we stepped out of the nursery. I loved seeing this new playful side of him.

I held out my hand as Patrick clasped it and forced me to walk hastily as he skipped down the corridor. “Where are we going, Mama?”

I could never tire of hearing that word.

“Outside to the garden. Have you seen the butterflies today?”

He shook his head. “No, but I want to.” His eyes lit up as we descended the stairs and made our way outside to the garden. I glanced out across the horizon to see dark clouds forming in the distance but, for now, the sun still shone in our little corner of the world.

Lord Jaxon sat in his usual place, reading once more. When he looked up, he seemed as though he had to look twice to assure himself of what he saw. “I thought you had departed for Havenscrest?”

“I did.” I tucked my wayward strand behind my ear. “I have returned.” I gestured to the hollow where the butterflies fluttered. “Go on, Patrick, I’m right here.” Nearing mid-October, the flowers were losing their spark, and the number of butterflies present had dissipated some.

“Is Zachary’s father well?”

I shook my head and pointed to the space beside him. “May I sit?”

He smiled. “By all means.”

“Zachary’s father passed away five nights ago. I arrived after the burial.”

Jaxon’s brows furrowed. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Zach and his father had a troubled past, but I understand they mended it before he left for war the first time.”

“Yes, that is what I understand as well.”

“Was Frederick there?”

“Yes.”

Jaxon’s frown deepened.

“But he was in London for business the two days I was in residence. We only spoke briefly.” I did not include his return and the subsequent conversation on the side of the road.

“Hardly unexpected,” Jaxon scowled. “His eyes were solely on the earldom. I wouldn’t be surprised if Frederick had something to do with the earl’s illness or demise.”

I gasped. “How awful. D—do you truly believe that?”

He blinked in my direction. “Forgive me, Mrs. Turner, I forget my audience. I only meant to say Frederick cares for little outside of money.”

It was uplifting to see my observations were not distorted. Between Lucas, Hunter, and now Jaxon, they all seemed to be aware of Frederick’s less than stellar character. “Yes, I did see cautionary signs of that in my time there as a child and well, only briefly, recently.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t try to court you himself.”

“Why would you presume that?” I questioned.

Jaxon smiled partway and one eyebrow arched. “Mrs. Turner, if I have noticed one thing at this house party it is that you underestimate your beauty, but I do know Frederick… all too well. And if he learned that Zach cared for you, it would be his solitary goal to destroy any happiness Zachary might find with you.”

I am certain my lips parted, and a subtle gasp escaped. Everything he said just now confirmed what Frederick seemed to be doing, and I had almost allowed it to happen!

“How is Zachary truly doing?”

I heard the hint of concern in his tone and smiled faintly, then without the ability to prevent it, my cheeks heated.

“Oh.” He beamed in return. “So, he is doing quite well, then.”

I laughed. A refreshing lightness filled my soul. “We both are.”

I composed myself and stood up. My decision had been made and there was no doubt in my mind. “Forgive me, Lord Jaxon, I have something to share with Patrick.”

He stood to his feet, but I waved for him to sit down. “You mustn’t leave. I know Zach would want you to know as well.”

I stepped over to my son while he stood still like a little scarecrow, hoping the remaining butterflies might land. They fluttered a bit, then one finally perched on his coat sleeve. When he giggled the butterfly flew away. “Patrick,” I kneeled to his height despite my dress. “Do you remember my friend Lord Zachary?”

He nodded excitedly. “He comes to eat with me sometimes.” His eyes lit up. “And he saved me. In the water.”

“Yes.” My smile broadened. “I have splendid news to tell you.”

Patrick lowered his arms and faced me with a curious expression.

“Lord Zachary and I are to be married.”

“Married?” He mouthed the word slowly.

I nodded. “That means we will all live together.”

“Will he be my father?”

I risked a glance at Jaxon as he sat completely still and listened, though his face reflected the happiness in my heart.

“Your father is Sir Colin Patrick Turner, but since he has gone to heaven, Lord Zachary will be a father to you in his stead.”

Patrick’s brows furrowed as he seemed to try and absorb the information.

“Would that make you happy?” I inquired further.

He smiled wide. “Yes!” He shot both his arms up in the air. “I like him.” Then he returned immediately to his scarecrow stance and spread his arms out for more butterflies. I stepped back and smiled as my heart overflowed with happiness. Everything felt like it was falling into place precisely how it should.

Jaxon came and stood beside me. “Let me be the first to congratulate you, Mrs. Turner. Soon to be Honorable Mrs. Zachary Collins.”

Hearing that name made me shiver.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“You have given Zach what he has always desired.”

“A son?” I questioned.

He shook his head. “You.” Then he bowed and excused himself.

I wrapped my arms around my waist and watched Patrick smile and giggle. Then I whispered to myself, “And all I ever wanted was Zach.”

I suddenly remembered the missives in my pocket and retrieved them. Stealing another glance at Patrick, who was now consumed with something at the base of the shrubs, most likely a worm, I chuckled and sat on the edge of the fountain as I opened the first letter.

It was from my mother and nearly two pages long. I delighted over the expansive details she shared. Mother always had a way with words. Attached within the folds was a simple note from April. She assured all was well and now that they had returned to London, she pleaded for me to update her about the men from the house party. I had mentioned a few of them in my earlier correspondence. Of course, now, the only man I would include in my reply was Zachary.

I couldn’t wait to write and divulge all.

A light breeze picked up and I pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders as I opened the second missive, written by Mr. Hanover. He and Lucas’ solicitor, Mr. Weatherford, have been in touch with one another. He shared the news of two properties that met my criteria for sale near Lucas and Helena’s home and that the owners were anxious to give me a tour at my earliest convenience. My heart fluttered excitedly at the notion of being a homeowner.

I held the third letter in my hands for a significant amount of time, fingering the lettering, Mrs. Colin Turner, repeatedly—a name I was about to relinquish.

I did not even realize I was crying, until a tear trailed down my cheek and landed on the paper. With clear determination, I decided that whatever Frederick had written would never reach my eyes.

My heart, my trust, my everything belonged to Zachary.

I tore the unopened missive in half, then tore it again and again until only small, fragmented pieces spread across the lap of my skirt. Nothing in this letter mattered to me… not in the least.

Several raindrops fell on my face and arms as a steady drizzle swiftly materialized. I must have sat here for a significant amount of time, ruminating, to not have realized the skies had darkened substantially above me.

When I looked over to the hedges, Patrick was no longer in the butterfly garden.

“Patrick!” I stood up and shouted. My head whipped in all directions of the garden. I didn’t see him anywhere. Rushing around the fountain, I followed every path, checked every hollow and nook, yelling his name frantically the entire time. Fear gripped my chest and tears sprang from my eyes the more time that went by without finding him.

What a dreadful mother I was, for I just lost my son!

As larger and faster raindrops descended, my hair fell limp and my dress became soaked, but I continued to search the garden and call out his name with no response. Rushing inside the house, I ignored Helena in the foyer and dashed straight to the nursey where only Joseph played. I glanced at Banja, “Have you seen Patrick?”

She jumped to her feet. “I thought he with you.”

“Yes.” I wiped the moisture off my cheeks with my hands. “He was, then I was reading my letters and looked up and he was gone.”

Banja ran past me and out of the room. I quickly followed her, nearly knocking into Gwendolyn.

“Eveline?” she cried with concern. “What’s happened?”

“Patrick is missing. He was with me in the garden and disappeared.”

She grabbed my hand and led me to the study where Hunter, Lucas, and Jaxon all lounged about, drinking port.

She burst into the room with me closely behind her. “Patrick’s missing!”

The men all launched to their feet.

Jaxon peered at me with furrowed brows. “He was just with you in the garden.”

“I—I know,” I sobbed. “I started r—reading my letters while he was p—playing and then, he disappeared. I checked everywhere and now it’s raining.” I seized a quick breath. “I’m frightened.”

The men led us out to the foyer and Hunter hollered for their greatcoats and hats. Servants scrambled in all directions. I peered out the window to see the sky blacken even more. My heart sank. My son was out there somewhere. It had been a gloriously beautiful day until the arrival of Frederick’s letter and the darkness that followed it.

“Any idea where he might have gone?” Hunter asked.

“W—we take walks to the b—bridge in the woods.” I stuttered, still unable to form a logical sentence. “He l—loves to watch the fish.”

After Lucas put on his hat, he grabbed my hands. “We will find him Evie, don’t worry.” I watched out the window as they all rushed outside and toward the stable to retrieve their horses.

Helena and Gwendolyn came to my side while Banja hollered from the dining room, “He not on this floor.” She must’ve checked all the rooms he might have access to. “I check below stairs now.”

“Okay,” I mumbled. My mind spun at an unearthly pace.

“Should we check the garden again?” Helena suggested.

I gnawed on my bottom lip. “Yes. I could have easily missed something, I’ve been so preoccupied. Maybe he was playing forty forty and hiding from me.” Then I glanced at her in her condition. She was merely two months from giving birth. My negligence would not be the reason she falls ill or suffers a tragedy. “But not you, Helena. You must stay inside. Double-check the bedchambers with help from the staff. You should not be outside in this weather.”

“I will go with you, Eveline,” Gwendolyn added as she retrieved our pelisses from the closet beneath the grand staircase without waiting for a staff member. “When did you have eyes on him last?”

I sighed, trying to remember if I had looked over between the letters from my mother and the one from my solicitor. Or had I just read them both at once?

“Did you receive bad news?”

I stared. How did I answer that?

Helena rubbed a thumb over my cheek. “You’re pale.” She paused. “And you mentioned you were preoccupied.”

“I fear for Patrick,” I answered truthfully and shoved Frederick’s attempt to poison my mind aside. “I only need to find Patrick.”

“To be certain.” She nodded and wrapped her arm in mine as we braved the wind and rain and searched the gardens, beginning with where I saw him last. Despite the clouds unleashing a fury, we double and triple checked every possible place we believed a boy of five might find fascinating.

Gwendolyn reached my side again and wrapped her arm through mine, pulling me close. “I know you are thinking of all the bad things that can happen, don’t do that. He will be found.”

Near the fountain, scattered pieces of foolscap appeared soaked through. Gwendolyn picked them up. Even the shredded pieces of Frederick’s letter.

“Sorry about your letters, Eveline.” Gwendolyn spoke through the rain. “And this one seems to be in pieces.”

I reached for the drenched fragments and shoved them into my pocket. They no longer truly mattered. The only thing that mattered was finding Patrick.

After two quarters of an hour in the garden, we headed toward the stables. Banja joined us there and told us the house had been thoroughly searched by herself, Helena, and the staff. Patrick was not inside.

She also mentioned that Helena sent the footmen to search all the outlying areas around the house, including the stables where we joined in their search. After an additional three quarters of an hour, we returned to the house discouraged and shivering. Patrick was nowhere to be found, and each tick of the hallway clock thumped in my chest, reminding me of the length of time that passed with Patrick’s absence.

Once back in the foyer, Gwendolyn hugged me tight. “The men will not come home until they find him.”

“It is all my fault, Gwendolyn,” I cried. “I wasn’t watching him like I should have. I made a dreadful mistake, and Patrick will suffer for it.”

Helena appeared. “Oh, Eveline, do not torture yourself. It is not your fault. Children are curious creatures, they like to explore. I’m certain Patrick is just on an adventure. He’s likely hiding someplace as to not get wet.”

“But he’s certain to be cold a—”

A horse whinnied out front and the three of us rushed to open the door.

Thunder.

And Zachary!

He dismounted in a flurry and hustled inside. “Eveline!” He gasped between breaths. And while I noticed his attire was thoroughly soaked, and paralleled mine, neither one of us acknowledged it. “I need to speak with you,” he pleaded.

Gwendolyn interjected, “Patrick’s missing. Hunter, Lucas, and Jaxon are all out searching.”

Zach’s eyes widened. “How long has he been gone?”

“Possibly three hours,” I said as I bit the inside of my cheek, trying so hard not to break down again.

“Which way did the others go?”

Gwendolyn pointed toward the woods. “The river and bridge,” she added.

I sniffled over the memory of how Patrick cannot swim. Visions of him in the creek tore me to pieces.

Zachary replaced his hat and didn’t say another word, flying back out the door and mounting Thunder before the groom could take him to the stables. I watched from the window as he raced in the opposite direction.

Gwendolyn stood beside me. “Good. He will check the areas the others have not.” She turned me to face her. “They will find him, Eveline. Do not give up hope.”

Gwendolyn called for Mrs. Gentry. “Please prepare a bath for Mrs. Turner.”

“No!” I cried, shaking my head frantically. “Not yet. I can’t. I need to wait and watch.”

“Certainly.” She revised her request. “Will you retrieve two blankets please?”

When Mrs. Gentry returned, she kindly wrapped one around me and one around her mistress as we continued to watch the rain pelt the windows with no relief in sight.