XXXII. Another Everard

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QUITE MANY MONTHS LATER...

Harold paced the room, hands on his hips, mentally counting the hours with his head bent.

Theobald and Martin who were playing chess at the far corner had long ignored his constant murmurs.

"This is taking too bloody long," he cursed under his breath again.

"The babe," explained the boy in Martin's lap. "He is talking about the babe."

"Of course he is, my boy," Martin grumbled as he pushed his queen to the side.

"It's goin' to be a he," said the other boy who circled the table to run up to Eva. "Right? It's goin' to be a he."

Eva kissed the boy's head. "We cannot be certain, darling. Will it matter?"

"Yes."

"No," the other boy said.

The boy in front of Eva contradicted with a, "Yes."

"No," snapped the boy from the chess table.

Martin sighed. "Now, now, why don't you two children go and play outside?"

"Go catch frogs," Theobald said, giving the two children a wicked wink.

"No, thank you," said the boy in Martin's lap.

And before Theobald could say another word of encouragement, the door burst open and the servant came in with a smile. Without waiting for a word from her, Harold jumped and half-ran out of the drawing room.

Everyone else followed.

He entered the room and found Alice sitting in bed, smiling with a bundle in her arms. "Are you all right, darling?" he asked as he approached, kissing her flushed cheek. Smoothing her black hair and tucking them behind her ear, he whispered words of relief.

Alice nodded and looked down. "He is beautiful."

Harold smiled as he stared at their child with wonder. "He is."

"What shall we name him?" asked Alice.

Harold shrugged. "I already named the last one."

They both laughed and looked up to stare at the two boys standing at the foot of the bed. "Well, what say you, Benedict? Levi?"

The brothers looked at each other. "Maxwell," Benedict said the same time Levi answered, "Arthur."

*****

Harold walked into the nursery and found five-year-old Benedict peering at his baby brother. Alice was asleep in the bed nearby, tucked under her arm was Levi with his thumb inside his mouth.

"He is sleeping," Benedict whispered as Harold approached. "Levi wanted to see him, but I think he only wanted to be with Mama."

He rumpled Benedict's hair. He picked up Benedict in his arms with a light chuckle and carried the boy to the winged chair with him.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Harold whispered to his son.

Benedict's emerald green eyes widened as he nodded.

He leaned into his son's ear and said, "I love your mother dearly."

Benedict blinked. "That is not a secret."

He smiled. "Then can you keep a promise?"

His son nodded his head again.

"Can you promise to protect her?"

"You cannot do it alone?"

He nodded.

Benedict nodded. "I understand. I will have to protect her from the paper? She hates it. But she still reads it. She only hates it some days."

Harold chuckled. "From the paper. And the bad people."

Benedict turned his head to look at his mother and Levi. "I can ask for Levi's help?"

"Of course."

"And Maxwell? When he can walk?"

"Yes, my son. Gather everyone you can to protect your mother."

Benedict sighed, his shoulders sagging. "But what if we get sisters?"

"And that is a problem?"

"Of course! They can't help us protect Mother. We have to protect them as well, yes?"

Harold nodded. "Most of the time, yes," he said then leaned even closer. "But I will tell you another secret you probably do not know, but you will soon find it to be true." His son waited for him to continue. "Your sisters will grow up strong like your mother. You will protect them, but you will also give them freedom."

"But they might do wrong things."

"And you guide them not to do so," said Harold. "Do you understand what I mean, Ben?"

Benedict nodded. "Protect and guide."

Harold narrowed his eyes. "No whipping."

With a snort, Benedict buried his face in his father's chest. "But if someone makes them cry?"

Leaning back against the chair, Harold sighed. "Then perhaps you can talk with your brothers. You will know what to do."

"And what about you?"

Harold raised his brows. "Me?"

"What will you do?"

"Ah, I will watch and enjoy," he replied with a soft chuckle. "I will teach you many games and we will play together."

Benedict yawned. "I want a sister."

"We can pray for one."

"But not too many. Girls can be so loud. They will cry when they lose in games."

"Loud is good, my son. We cannot let the silence linger in an Everard home, can we?"

When his son had gone quiet, Harold smiled.

He watched his wife sleeping with Levi, while his eldest son fell into a deep slumber in his arms. His eyes went to the crib and he swallowed the tears of joy.

The curse, if there was ever one, was lifted, much to the ton's disappointment and his father's utter joy. Alice had indeed proven those who believed it to be wrong. Not twice, but three times and as she had said before, she was not stopping at three.

Absently bending down to plant a kiss on Benedict's head, Harold closed his eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks. Another Everard was a gift. Any more would be a blessing. 

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