The Magician's Sons

Chapter 45

"It makes a rather peculiar sight, does it not?" Mrs. Pearson said in the softest whisper.

It was six-thirty in the morning, and it had become a long-standing habit for her and Mr. Sterling to discuss household matters in the drawing room at that hour. They had gathered there every day for the past eight years. And over time, the all-business link between master and housekeeper had turned into a bond of friendship. Neither one had come to talk about the house or finances that day. They both had a cup of tea in hand and were ready for a cozy chat. But they had paused in the doorway, amused by the sight of Norman and Copper fast asleep on the sofa.

"It does make me wonder," Jasper laughed softly. "What was wrong with their own beds? But they look content with the situation." He smiled as he stared and whispered, "For all my son's standoffish air, I believe he likes that boy very much. Who could help it? I tell you, dear Mrs. Pearson, every day, I see Copernicus's happy face, and I cannot bear the thought of parting with him."

The thought drew a tear from the housekeeper's eye. "Must we part with him, sir?" she asked, turning her gaze upon the man pleadingly.

"I do not know. I have stalled on making inquiries. Perhaps that has been for his benefit or perhaps it has been for my own. The poor child has been so ill. At first, I did not even know whether he would live or die. And still, he is not altogether well. I'm afraid of the shock it would be to him to see his old master right now. Besides that, I admit I am afraid to lose him. He is such a dear boy."

"Is it not possible," the woman began tenderly, "that you could keep him? Adopt him?" Flimsy as the hope was, it still brought them both joy.

"I will find out. If it is at all possible, I plan to do it!" Sterling replied with determination. "But I think I shall not make a move until I am satisfied that the boy is strong enough to receive the news of my discoveries, whether good or bad."

There is something very upsetting about waking up late to a bustling house of cheerful people. There's something even more upsetting about not waking up in your own room—realizing that you've been a gazing stock while helplessly asleep. That was how Norman felt when he finally roused himself at a quarter past eight, still curled up on the sofa.

"Ah, Norman! Good morning, son!" his father greeted from across the room. The words would have set better with the young man if they hadn't been so chipper. To make things worse, Jasper gave a humored smile and asked, "Would you like to explain? I've been dying with curiosity." He pointed to the sleeping little boy whose head had dropped restfully upon Norman's shoulder in the night. The young man gave a grumble.

"It was not exactly how I intended to spend the night," he complained in humiliation. "The boy had a nightmare, and he wouldn't go back to bed. I ended up talking to him until at least three in the morning! Help me off with him, Father. Cannon fire wouldn't wake him now!"

With a careful effort, Jasper managed to free Norman and ease their little guest down onto the cushions without waking him. Norman quitted the room as fast as possible, his heart panging with agitation and embarrassment. His wounded pride drove him to hide in his bedroom for hours. For a while, he was so irritated that he didn't want to see or think about Copper. They had had a jolly time last night, but now he had been humiliated, and it was all over.

Norman felt so thoroughly selfish that day that he forgot to take an interest in the fact that Copernicus didn't come to the table at breakfast or luncheon. He did what he always did when he had a spare moment and dreamed of Jemma, oblivious to everything else around him. But, by dinner time, his mood had changed. He looked at the empty seat where Copper usually sat and then turned his eyes toward his father.