Free Kindred Hearts by Rowan Speedwell Page B

quick to learn new things. He showed Tristan one now, stacking his blocks by size so that he could build a pyramidal structure as tall as he was himself. Tristan picked up the stuffed animal and went to put it on top of the smallest block. “No, no, Papa!” Jamie said. “B’ocks! No puppy!”
     
    “You are a very smart boy,” Tristan said soberly to him.
     
    “Papa give,” he ordered, and Tristan gave him the puppy. Jamie cuddled it, crooning to it tunelessly. Charlotte often sang him to sleep; sometimes on his way out for an evening, Tristan would stop by the nursery to see her sitting in the rocking chair beside the cot, rocking Jamie and singing some lullaby. She loved Jamie every bit as much as Tristan did, he thought. She was an excellent mother. She was a good wife, too, even if he was a poor example of a husband. The smile faded from his face.
     
    Jamie noticed. “Papa sad?”
     
    “No, love. I’m fine.” Tristan smiled at him.
     
    He worried that Jamie would miss him when he was gone, and the older Jamie got, the more likely that was. He needed to do this quickly, but he was hampered by Charlotte’s pregnancy. Once the baby was born and he’d got them settled in the country…. He supposed he could lessen the blow to Jamie by becoming more like the other fathers of his acquaintance, only having contact with their children on rare occasions, but he was too selfish for that. He enjoyed Jamie. He just hadn’t thought ahead when he’d got into the habit of spending time with his son, hadn’t expected that Jamie would come to enjoy his time with his father as well.
     
    He remembered the day when it had been brought to his attention just how foolish he’d been. It had been about four months ago; he’d gone to the nursery just as he always did, and found Jamie standing up in his cot, holding onto the wooden slats. And Jamie’s face had lighted up at the sight of him. It staggered Tris. Jamie was happy to see him. Happy to see him . It shook Tristan to his core.
     
    And then he’d gone down to lunch, and Charlotte had casually mentioned that she was increasing again, and he’d realized that that would be another little being who would come to look forward to seeing him, to care for him, to expect to be cared for. He’d managed to find the right words to say to Charlotte, half-hearing her complacent statement that he no longer needed to come to her at night, and he’d thought, Never again . He hadn’t been able to bring himself to lie with any other woman, either. He’d shut himself off from that part of his life for good—it was too dangerous . The idea of bringing another life into the world that might look to him….
     
    He couldn’t bring himself to stop visiting Jamie. But he’d started in train his plans for the future—arranging things so that Charlotte and his children would be settled, so that when the time came, he could take himself out of their lives. Set them free of him, for good.
     
    Smiling at Jamie, he reached out and tickled his plump little belly. Jamie chortled, and with a laugh, knocked over his tower of blocks.
     
    “Oh, no !” Tristan exclaimed in mock horror. “What do we do now ?”
     
    “Again!” Jamie yelled, and Tristan laughed.
     

     

     
    Charlotte was reading a letter when he came down to luncheon; one hand held her fork immobile in midair, the chunk of chicken dripping sauce onto the plate while the other held the letter up. It was a not-uncommon sight—Charlotte had dozens of correspondents across the whole of Britain and not a few elsewhere in the Empire—but she usually managed to eat and read at the same time. This letter held her rapt.
     
    He’d served himself the chicken and settled into his chair to eat before she put the letter down and turned to him. “News?” he asked mildly.
     
    “Charlie’s coming home,” she said happily. “He’s coming back in the next month or so. He doesn’t say why; just that he’s well and looking