Chapter Fifteen

Harry was in a rotten mood for two weeks straight. He preferred to be angry, as it was easier than allowing himself to be heartbroken. He was hurt and lashing out where he shouldn't have been, snapping at people at work and staying shut up in his office as much as humanly possible. Thankfully no one bothered to ask what was wrong, as it would have been inappropriate to do so, but everyone obviously knew he wasn't himself.

But perhaps this was Harry being himself. Perhaps this was who he'd be now. He was the director of a vitally important department. People should be a bit wary of him. After all, he'd once had quite a reputation as a dangerous and somewhat reckless man. Those were the qualities that made him a hero all those years ago. He'd mellowed considerably after the war, though not many people knew that. His contact with people had been limited to his various foreign assignments and the officers on his bases. And then, of course, once Jane had died and left him responsible for the children, he'd tried to minimize the reckless behavior as best he could. The only real foolish risk he'd taken in many years was falling in love with Ruth.

What a bloody mistake that was. He'd allowed himself to truly care for a woman for the first time since he'd been married. He had found someone with whom he wanted to share his life and his time and all those intimate thoughts and feelings that he'd always tamped down inside himself. And he wanted to know her, too. He loved to watch her do anything, loved to listen to her speak, loved to be with her at any given moment. But of course, he'd cocked it all up, as he always did. He'd been so concerned with not pressuring her when it came to the children that he'd not even told her about them. Bloody stupid. He'd failed the trust she placed in him, and Harry knew better than most that trust was hard to come by and even harder to regain once lost.

Harry allowed himself a small break in his anger to look out the window of his office to where Ruth was sitting at her desk, hard at work. There was an ache in his chest at knowing he couldn't see her other than like this, could kiss her or touch her or fall asleep beside her ever again. He was about to turn forty in a few months' time; perhaps his foolishly optimistic belief that he might have another chance at a happy home and family was best pushed aside now. It had been so long since he'd found any woman he genuinely liked more than for a few weeks of sex, what were the odds that he'd find another at his age?

He sighed to himself and knew he had to get back to work. But before he looked away, Ruth lifted her head and met his gaze. There was a flash of palpable pain in her eyes that nearly broke his heart all over again. He had hurt her, and now they were both punished for it. He wanted to beg for her to come back to him, but he knew he couldn't. She was his subordinate and he could not get even close to the line of pressuring her. And, of course, she was a princess and he had no business even thinking he was worthy of her time and attention.

Ruth blinked quickly and turned away, as did Harry. He had work to do. Best be getting on with that.

That night, he was home rather late. He'd been doing that often, staying late at work. He was home for dinner now less often than when he'd spent two or three nights a week with Ruth. He spent every night in his own bed, but he really only bothered to be in the house to sleep and shower and change his clothes. He knew he should be with Graham and Catherine more, but he could not bear, just yet, letting them see his sadness. And he certainly did not want to take his anger out on them. Better that he kept away.

No such luck tonight. He got home and went directly into his office, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top buttons of his uniform as he poured himself a large scotch. He did not notice that he was not alone in the room.

"Why are you sad?"

He nearly dropped the bottle in surprise. Harry whirled around to see Catherine sitting on the leather sofa, hidden by shadows. "What are you doing in here?" he asked, not answering her question.

"You're never home anymore, but I know you always come in here before you go to bed," she replied somewhat smugly. "So now that I've managed to stay up far too late so I can see you for more than two minutes in a day, tell me why you're sad."

Sometimes Harry really disliked having such an emotionally intelligent and incredibly forthright child. He could never get much past Catherine. She was so bloody observant and clever. Perhaps a bit too cynical sometimes—that was surely the influence of his genetics and his absent parenting—but she was a fierce girl and Harry was constantly caught off guard by her.

Harry knew he needed to take the unusual opportunity presented to him. Catherine deserved to understand what was going on, particularly since it did affect her and her brother through his even poorer parenting than usual. He poured a bit more scotch in his glass and crossed to the sofa where she sat, taking a seat beside her. Catherine just sat quietly, watching him and waiting.

"Ruth and I are no longer seeing each other," he said simply.

Catherine frowned. "Oh what did you do!? Dad, she's so nice and she doesn't deserve to be treated badly!"

He took a sip of scotch, allowing the burn of it to fill his throat. "You're right. She doesn't deserve to not know the truth, but I'm afraid I made a mistake."

"You didn't cheat on her?"

"No!" he exclaimed. The very idea of being unfaithful to Ruth, the very thought that he could find another woman he might want, the very concept of having his head turned away from her, it was all ludicrous to him. Though, with his track record, Catherine was probably right to ask.

"So what did you do?"

"I don't think most fathers would tell their daughters the details of a romantic relationship," he pointed out.

She scoffed, "Most daughters probably wouldn't ask. And besides, I don't want to know the details of your romantic relationship. I want to know what mistake you made to cause Ruth to dump you."

Harry nearly asked her why she assumed Ruth had dumped him, but that was a stupid question. Of course the end of their relationship could only be due to Ruth dumping him. Harry had been the one to tell Catherine himself how important Ruth was to him. And now, of course, his daughter was armed with far too much knowledge. So he had to tell her. "Apparently she was upset by my bad parenting."

"What?!" Obviously Catherine hadn't expected that. "How does she know you're a crap dad?"

"Thanks," he grumbled. "My mistake was that I didn't tell her I had children. We've been seeing each other for months and she never knew, and she was upset that I've been spending my time with her instead of with my children."

"How did she not know? You never mentioned us at all?"

"I assumed she did know. She works with me. She's got access to my file and my records. You and Graham and your mother are all mentioned in there. I thought she knew."

But that wasn't the part that bothered Catherine. "Dad, you never told her about us? Not once? She met us and had no idea who we were?"

"I suppose so."

She went quiet, thinking. She started muttering to herself, "Well, I suppose you never told your other women you were married with children back then, why would you get in the habit now?"

Harry drank some more scotch. "That's not very nice, but I can't say you're wrong," he conceded.

"But I thought Ruth was special? Don't you love her?"

"Yes," he admitted. "And she is very special. That's why I wanted her to meet you. You've never met anyone else I've ever dated, have you?"

"No, that's true. But Ruth dumped you because you surprised her with us? Oh Graham's going to be so upset," Catherine realized aloud.

"I know. I don't know how I'm going to tell him. That's part of why I've been working late recently. I knew he'd ask about her, and I don't want him to think she didn't like him or that it's his fault, because it's not."

"Did she say anything about us?" she asked in a nervous voice.

Harry looked at his daughter, seeing her look so small and vulnerable, more like a child than he had seen her be in quite some time. He put his empty glass on the side table and pulled Catherine into his arms, kissing her forehead. "She said you were wonderful. The both of you. Smart and sweet and wonderful. Which is quite true. Nothing about this is your fault at all."

Catherine snuggled against him. "I'll tell Graham tomorrow. If you promise to come home for dinner so he can ask you questions himself after I tell him."

"I promise."

She sighed sadly. "What a bloody mess."

Harry chuckled at that, causing both their bodies to shake. "Yes, it really is." He kissed her once more and then patted her arm. "Alright, it's bedtime for both of us, I think. I have a morning meeting, so I'll be here for a quick breakfast before I have to go."

"Alright," she replied, getting up off the sofa. "Goodnight, Dad."

The next morning, Harry was in a slightly kinder mood than he had been for a while. He drank his coffee while reviewing a non-classified report to prepare for his meeting with some politicians later. He'd not yet looked at the newspaper.

Graham, however, got his hands on it first thing. "Dad, look!" he exclaimed.

Harry looked up. "Hmm?"

The front page had a huge photo of Ruth in all her royal regalia, looking elegant and somewhat somber. The headline read, "Princess Louisa Birthday Celebration."

"Her birthday is next week, Dad. Can we have a party for her here with just us?"

Harry was glad he didn't have to explain that, even under other circumstances, they would not be invited to the state dinner in Ruth's honor. But Harry also did not have the heart to tell Graham the truth. Not just now, not at breakfast. "We'll see," he said simply.

And with that, he finished his coffee and folded up the report and stood from the table. "I've got a meeting. I'll be home for dinner," he announced.

Catherine passed him in the hallway, giving him an encouraging smile.

"Ruth's on the front page of the newspaper," Harry warned her.

She sighed. "Alright. You go. I'll talk to Graham. See you tonight."

He gave her a small hug and left for the day, amazed and extremely grateful to have his daughter as his ally.