Chapter Two

Harry was late, and he knew it. He really had tried to be on time. It honestly wasn't his fault that the director of intelligence had delayed him. But he couldn't very well make that excuse for being late. They wouldn't believe him. He always had a good excuse for being late, and they never cared. And Harry really couldn't blame them.

His car pulled up to the train station to find two children with suitcases sitting on a bench looking extremely unhappy.

"You're late!" came a sharp voice as soon as he opened the door.

He sighed sadly. "Yes, I know. I am sorry. I got here as soon as I could."

A girl of twelve with bright blonde hair and a sour expression just huffed in frustration and walked past Harry with her suitcase in hand. Her younger brother, only ten, was looking rather heartbroken himself.

"Hello, Graham," Harry said gently. "Did you have a good term?"

Graham just sighed and followed his sister. Neither of the children spoke to their father as they climbed in the back seat of the car.

When Harry joined them and instructed the driver to take them to his house, Catherine asked, "Who's looking after us this time?"

"I'm taking the whole day off tomorrow. I thought we might go to the zoo," Harry suggested, hoping this idea would take some of the sting off his tardiness.

Graham brightened significantly, and even Catherine had a flicker of pleasure. But she quickly remembered her original question. "And after that?"

Harry hesitated, not yet knowing how to fully respond. "Things might be changing very soon. So we'll see."

"Changing how?" Graham asked.

There was not the same suspicion in his voice that his sister possessed, for which Harry was quite grateful. Graham was an earnest child. Though who could say how much longer that would last.

Harry explained, "It looks like I may be staying in the capital for my next posting."

That caught Catherine's attention. "Does that mean we won't have to go to boarding school anymore?" she asked somewhat desperately.

"Don't you like your school?" Harry asked. He paid a fortune for the bloody place, and he'd tried very hard to get them into a good one. It was very highly rated, and it was one of the few in the country that had both boys and girls, since he had not wanted to split up Catherine and Graham when he had to send them away. He'd hoped that staying together would make it easier on them. But it was still boarding school, no matter how good it was.

"No," she replied quite resolutely.

Harry tried to keep from rolling his eyes in exasperation. He had never been much good at parenting, and having his efforts seemingly wasted was quite frustrating. It was one of the reasons Jane had divorced him all those years ago. Harry had left her for three whole years during the war when Catherine and Graham were both little. He hadn't even been present for their births. But the work he'd been doing had been so vital. He'd been decorated and knighted for it. But all Jane wanted was a family. A husband to love her and raise her children with her. And Harry Pearce was not the right man for it. Oh he'd loved her in his way. And he loved his children more than life. But he was just never there. His work took him away, and he was content to let it. When Jane had asked for a divorce, Harry had granted her whatever she wanted. He knew all too well what a rotten husband he'd been. He hazarded to guess that she knew he'd been an unfaithful husband, too. But then, once the divorce was final and Harry had been set free of his guilt for being an absent husband and father, Jane had gotten sick. So sick, in fact, that she'd died before Harry had made it back from overseas. The children were in his sole custody now. And because he was abroad more often than not, they had been sent to boarding school. Which Catherine, apparently, had hated.

"We can find you a school here," Harry told her. "And a nanny to watch you both while I'm working. But we will all be able to live on the old house together." Jane had let him keep their house, since he was never there and she'd not wanted the painful memories of it. Now, they'd all be living there once again. Together, this time.

Just as they had during every school break for the last three years, Graham and Catherine both went upstairs and into their respective bedrooms and shut the doors without a single word to their father. Harry watched them go with a sad sort of resignation. Hopefully now that he'd be home more—in that he would be living in this country for the foreseeable future—he could take some steps to improve things with the children. They were still young, weren't they? It wasn't too late? He certainly hoped not.

"Welcome back, Sir Harry."

"How many times do I have to remind you not to use that stupid title?" he responded, smiling softly as he turned toward the speaker.

"Major Pearce, then."

"Malcolm," Harry growled warningly.

"You know, the other butlers don't have as many problems with their employers," Malcolm pointed out.

"Other employers don't have the same affection for their butlers as I've got for you. You're godfather to my children, for Christ's sake!" Harry reminded him.

Malcolm smiled at that. He had not been a butler when he had become godfather to the Pearce children. He had been a technical officer in Harry's regiment back when Harry was only a lieutenant, before Harry had even met Jane. That was nearly twenty years ago now. How the time seemed to fly by. The war stole so many years from them. So many friends and so much time. Malcolm had not coped with it all as well as Harry had. He asked for a discharge five years ago now, and Harry had graciously granted it with the caveat that he did not know how he would get by without Malcolm by his side. So in return, Malcolm had offered to work in Harry's house; Malcolm's father and grandfather had been in service, and it was noble work that Malcolm felt suited him well in his post-army life. Harry had already been divorced at that point and only hosting the children when he was in the country. But now with Jane dead and gone, Malcolm had stepped up as their godfather and butler and childminder all in one. And he wouldn't have traded it for anything.

"I don't suppose you've heard the news?" Harry asked.

"What news would that be?"

Harry walked toward his private study and gestured for Malcolm to follow. "Let's have a drink and I can tell you."

The two men settled on opposite ends of the sofa with their glasses of scotch. Harry explained his very odd meeting with the Intelligence Director. He left out any detail about the analyst, Ruth. Harry had quite a bit of thinking to do about her still, and he preferred to do so all on his own.

"And they want you to oversee foreign intelligence?" Malcolm asked in surprise.

"Seems like it. God knows why. I don't want the bloody job. I want to run my regiments on my bases as far away from here as I can manage," Harry grumbled.

"But surely this is a promotion worthy of your talents, Harry. You're a born leader and you have more of a knack for orchestrating and organizing complex operations than anyone else in the army, let alone at your position."

Harry just grumbled a bit more at that.

"And besides, you know how we miss you when you're away," Malcolm added.

That was a point Harry did not like to think about. But Malcolm was quite correct. Harry missed out on so much by insisting on his foreign deployments. Malcolm managed the house better than Harry could have dreamed, but not getting to have his closest friend and confidant with him like they used to be was never easy. And the children, of course. Harry needed to be a better father to them. And the most basic thing he could do for that was to just be at home for them. Shipping them off to boarding school broke his heart, but it was all he could do at the time. Now, things could be different.

As if reading his mind, Malcolm said softly, "They're growing up fast, Harry. They've already lost their mother. And they don't feel like they've ever had much of a father."

"Yes, I know," Harry replied sadly.

"Take the position," Malcolm counseled. "Be all you can be for the Intelligence Department. And be with Catherine and Graham when you're here."

Harry took the last sip of his scotch. "I'm going to take them to the zoo tomorrow."

"They'll like that. Graham likes bears," Malcolm said. He took the last sip of his own scotch and stood up. "And now I'd better get that vegetable lasagna into the oven."

"Why vegetable lasagna?" Harry asked, not able to keep the tone of disgust out of his voice.

"Catherine's a vegetarian now," Malcolm informed him.

"Oh Christ," Harry lamented in return.

Malcolm just chuckled and left his glass on the bar cart before making his way to the kitchen. Harry poured himself another drink.