Sherbrooke Twins

Maybella was tapping her toe and staring at the lovely ceiling molding. Douglas said, “Er, let me get Petrie, who’s doubtless waiting in the entrance hall with Willicombe and all the rest of the staff in this house, ready to fight over who gets to carry you on his back to your bedchamber.”

But it was Douglas and Jason who helped James up to his bedchamber, Petrie and Willicombe hovering three steps behind them, ready if needed, Freddie three steps behind them, arms out, ready. James smiled up at his father and brother. “Thank you for coming to fetch us.”

He fell asleep, hearing Petrie bragging how he could shave his lordship and not wake him up in the process.

CHAPTER TWENTY

WHEN JAMES AWOKE, it was nearly midnight, his bedchamber dark, embers burning low in the fireplace, and he was as warm as a lovely pudding just taken out of the oven. He realized he needed to relieve himself and managed to get himself out of bed and locate the chamber pot. He was damnably weak and it infuriated him. He’d no sooner gotten himself back into bed when he realized he was starving. He focused on the bellpull then drew back his hand. It was very late. He lay back, listening to his stomach growl, wondering if he could manage to walk to the kitchen. Forget the food, then. At least he was at home and in his own bed. He wasn’t going to starve, and best of all, he was alive.

Not three minutes later, the door to his bedchamber quietly opened.

His mother came into the room, wearing a lovely moss green dressing gown, carrying a small tray in her arms. James simply couldn’t believe it. “Have I died and gone to heaven? How did you-”

Alexandra set the tray down on the bedside table and said as she helped him sit up, “Petrie was sleeping in the dressing room, the door open. I had told him he was to awaken me the moment he heard you stirring. He did. Now, I have some delicious chicken broth for you and some warm bread with butter and honey. What do you think about that?”

“I would marry you if you weren’t my mother.”

Alexandra laughed and lit a branch of candles.

James said as he watched her, “I remember when I was a little boy, sick from something, I don’t remember what it was, but you were always there. I woke up in the middle of the night and there you were standing beside me, holding a candle, and your hair looked like spun flame in that light. I thought you were an angel.”

“I am,” Alexandra said, laughed, and kissed him. She studied him a moment. “You’re looking brighter, your eyes more focused. Now, I’m going to stuff you.”

She pulled up a chair and sat watching her son while he ate every scrap on the tray. When he was finished, he sighed and leaned his head back against the pillows. He said, his eyes still closed, “When I awoke, my first thought was, where is Corrie?”

Alexandra made a low humming noise.

“She saved my life, Mother. I honestly don’t think my chances of escaping those three men were all that good.”

“She’s always been a resourceful girl,” said Alexandra. “And always completely loyal to you.”

“I never really appreciated that until this happened. Can you believe she saw me taken and jumped right up in the tiger’s perch, with no hesitation at all? Can you believe that? Wearing her damned ball gown.”

“Well, as a matter of fact,” his mother said, “I can believe it.”

He managed a grin. “Ah, you and Father, always there for each other. Yes, you would have leaped up in that tiger’s perch, wouldn’t you?”

“Mayhap I would have pulled out the derringer I wore strapped to my leg and shot the villains. I would have made the effort to save my ball gown.”

“You think to make me laugh? No, I can see you doing that, Mother.” James sighed and closed his eyes again. “I can also picture Corrie in my mind, all of three years old. It was the first time I ever saw her. You were holding her hand when you introduced her to us. I’ll never forget how she looked from Jason to me, back to Jason, and then she said, those big eyes of hers on my face, ‘James.’ ”

“I remember. Then she left me without a backward glance, walked up to you, her head back so she could see as high as your face, and she took your hand. You were ten years old, I believe.”

“She didn’t want to let my hand go. I remember how embarrassed I was. There was this little faerie, and she would sit at my feet and stroke my hand.”

“Remember when Jason tried to fool her into thinking he was you?”

“She kicked him in the shin. He started chasing her, all in good fun, then she saw me and tried to climb up my leg.”

Alex laughed. “Jason was so certain that he had all your ma

“Miss Juliette Lorimer can’t tell us apart.”

“Ah, yes, Juliette,” Alexandra said, studying her well-worn green slippers. “A lovely girl, don’t you think?”

James nodded. “She dances well, is light on her feet, and yes, really quite beautiful. But the thing is, I could be Jason and she wouldn’t know the difference.”

“She and her mother visited on three different occasions during the time you were missing. We weren’t here, but Jason was. He said that Juliette was very distraught when she realized he wasn’t you.”

James thought about that, but not too much. Weariness dragged at him. He managed a lopsided grin at his mother. “Thank you for keeping me from starving.” And he closed his eyes.

Alexandra leaned down and kissed her son. She straightened, stood there looking down at him for a very long time, thanking God and Corrie Tybourne-Barrett for her son’s life.

“WHO ARE YOU?”

“I’m Freddie, my lord, the new Sherbrooke tiger,” the boy said, puffing out his chest, an amazing feat since there wasn’t much chest to puff out. “No wonder you don’t remember me, real down in the chops ye were.”

What there was, however, was a good deal of pride standing here in his bedchamber. James smiled at the boy wearing the Sherbrooke livery who had traveled to London to tell his parents where he and Corrie were.

“I remember you now, Freddie. Why are you here?”

“I ’ad this gnawin’ in me brain, me lord. I jest wanted to make sure ye were still above ground like everyone were sayin’ downstairs. Everyone is mighty pleased ye survived. Best thing I ever did was to come to yer folks’ big ’ouse, tell ’em where ye was, even though I nearly got me liver sliced.

“And would ye look at what did transpire? Jest look at me, me lord. Ain’t I somethin’ to behold? ’Ere, me lord, ye want to feel this wool? Soft as a baby’s butt, it is.”

“Yes, it looks quite soft and you do look quite splendid, Freddie. Forgive me that I didn’t remember you, but I do know what you did for Corrie and me. Thank you.”

“No matter, my lord, ye was so sick I believed I’d be bringing yer folks back fer a burying, but no, ye managed to pull yerself out o’ the casket. It was Miss Corrie who saved ye. She’s a tough ’un, she is, and she didn’t leave yer side, no she din’t.”

“What did I hear about you nearly getting yourself killed trying to get to London?”

“Set upon, I was, set upon by a gang o’ young toughs what wanted to pound me, fer the fun o’ it. Not much fun fer me, I’ll tell ye. They took the groats Miss Corrie gave me, even though I’d poked ’em down under my foot, but they found ’em. But I gets away from them and got here, looking real bad, but Willicombe knew I ’ad somethin’ important to tell ’is lordship, so’s ’e brings me right in.”

“I appreciate your bravery, Freddie, and your tenacity.”

Freddie nodded, thinking of the five pounds he now carried in his pocket, not under his foot, given to him by the earl himself, and ah, didn’t it feel good lying against that soft wool of his suit, what Mr. Willicombe called his livery. Fine word, livery. Sounded like a dressed-up body part. Freddie rubbed his clean palms over the wool breeches. “Yer pa told me Mr. Willicombe ordered six suits fer me. Six! Can ye imagine that?”