Chapter Thirty-Two

"Dad?"

Harry looked up from his desk to see Graham peeking his head through the door to the study. "Come in," he said, beckoning for his son to enter. "What do you need, Graham?"

Graham furrowed his brow, causing Harry to realize that he'd probably been a bit abrupt with his tone. Harry was under quite a lot of strain at that precise moment, and he needed to temper his initial reactions.

As he stood up, Harry gestured to the sofa. "Sorry, here, let's have a seat," he offered.

That seemed to do the trick. Graham's expression relaxed and he sat down on the sofa to wait for his father.

Harry went over to the sideboard where he kept his scotch and poured a glass for himself. Upon momentary reflection, he poured a very small one for Graham as well. "Here, I've got a feeling we could use it."

Graham took the glass warily. "I thought you said I couldn't try it till I was fourteen. That's what you said when Catherine got to try some when you told us about proposing to Ruth."

"Do you really want to tell me that you've never once tried a drop of alcohol in your life?" Harry asked wryly. He knew his son. For all that Graham was an earnest and enthusiastic boy, he was not the closest adherent to the rules. Catherine was more apt to be outwardly defiant, as she was a fifteen-year-old girl with a dead mother and a largely absent father, so such things were to be expected. Graham, however, had a rather reckless streak in him. He did not cause a fuss as Catherine did. He just simply did what he wanted sometimes. Only rarely was it ever anything that would harm or upset anyone. His disobedience was never so outward or flashy. But Harry was very familiar with the levels of the bottles in his study, and he knew that Malcolm kept his own in his room when he drank alone. It was not Malcolm or Catherine—who was now very strongly convinced that any alcohol other than wine was pure evil—who had been taking nips of the scotch.

"How did you know?" Graham asked. He watched his father carefully to try and see how much trouble he might be in.

But Harry didn't much care. Graham had never been caught drunk, so he obviously wasn't drinking too much or too frequently. "I'm not telling you how I knew, but I did. I'm the Head of Foreign Intelligence, Graham. You think I don't know what goes on in my own house? And don't try and say that I'm never here; we both know that's not true and that's an excuse your sister uses far too much and I'm frankly quite tired of it."

Graham shrugged and drank down the small amount of scotch Harry gave him in one go. In that moment, Harry saw, for the first time, that his son was becoming a man. He wasn't a boy any longer. Not really. Harry caught a glimpse of the man that Graham would become. He was Harry himself in miniature. Same build, same hair, same eyes. Graham had his mother's nose and mouth, but the difference wasn't so stark. And Graham was developing a casual edge about him that Harry recognized from his own youth. He was so smart and so good, and Harry was just so proud to see him grow up.

"What did you want to come see me about, Graham?" Harry asked, slowly sipping his own scotch. He did not get Graham a refill.

"I actually wanted to see if Ruth was home yet."

Harry sighed sadly. He and Ruth had gotten home from their honeymoon two days earlier. It had lasted half as long as it was supposed to, and the children were shocked to see them back so soon. Ruth had instructed Tom to be in constant contact with the Royal Guard at the hospital and have updates hourly, so she knew that her grandfather was in and out of surgery and testing for almost an entire day. No bad news beyond the heart attack itself. And because of that, she allowed them to go home to wash up and change before going to the hospital. She was more agitated and anxious than Harry had ever seen her. Quiet and tense and sullen. He did not know what he could do for her, so her just held her hand all through their travels. He had ushered her upstairs to their room while he went to greet the children and explain what had happened. Ruth had found Harry in Catherine's room, and without a word, Catherine got up from where she'd been sitting on her bed and gave Ruth a hug. Harry watched his wife and daughter embrace and noticed how Ruth squeezed her eyes shut to try to keep from crying.

And within about half an hour, Harry and Ruth left the house again and went right to the hospital. They were unable to see the king, but were told that he was out of surgery and being monitored closely. Ruth wanted to stay and wait, but Tom subtly informed them that Prince Edmund and Princess Juliet were on their way. Neither Ruth nor Harry wanted to see them in the best of times, least of all when emotions were already running high. They'd gone home and to bed where Harry held Ruth all night but neither of them got any sleep at all. And the following morning, Ruth got up early and had Tom take her back to the hospital. She left a note for Harry where she'd be and that she'd inform him as soon as there was any news. She had not been back home yet. It had been over nearly two full days. And no news.

"She's not home yet," Harry told Graham. "But I haven't heard anything from her, and in this circumstance, no news is good news."

"Are you sure?" Graham asked nervously.

Harry nodded. "She said she'd let me know if there was any change. Last we heard, King Richard was stable and recovering from surgery but still unconscious. We all hope he wakes up, of course, but if anything bad's happened, we'd know," he assured his son.

Graham sighed and leaned back on the sofa. He had only met the king once, but Harry knew the boy was delighted by his new step-great-grandfather. King Richard had been so welcoming and kind and friendly to the children at the wedding. There were so many people and there was so much going on, but with the way the reception had been arranged, Harry and Ruth were seated at the head of the table with the members of the immediate family sitting with them. Malcolm had been seated at the table with them just to make sure that the children behaved properly. But Graham had gotten to sit beside the king and the two had taken an immediate liking to one another. Catherine had gotten the opportunity to sit with Ruth's father and she had begun to forge a close bond with Prince James. He was the closest thing to a grandfather she'd ever known. Harry's mother died when he was still in school, Jane's parents had died in the war when the children were too small to have remembered them, and Harry's father had been estranged from the family for two decades before Harry'd gotten word that the man had died just after Jane had.

"You'll get to see him again," Harry told Graham. "Just like how Ruth joined our family when we got married, all of us joined her family as well. King Richard and Prince James are our family now, and I know they want a chance to know you and Catherine and me better."

"What about Prince Edmund?"

Harry grumbled slightly at that. "What about Prince Edmund?"

"He's our family now, too, right?"

"Technically yes, but Ruth isn't close to her uncle so I doubt we'll see too much of him."

Graham took note of his father's tone and wisely chose not to ask any further questions.

Before either of them could say anything else, the study door opened without any warning. And even if Harry hadn't seen her, he'd have known it was Ruth. She always seemed to enter his office—both at home and at Army Intelligence—without knocking.

Harry was immediately on his feet to greet her. "What's happened?" he asked. He crossed over and met her halfway, pulling her into his arms. She was drawn and tired-looking, her face pale and her eyes red and her whole countenance exhausted. But whether she was exhausted by the stress of waiting or exhausted by grief, he did not yet know.

Ruth hugged him tight, burying her face in his neck, breathing him in like she sometimes did when she was upset. "He's awake," she finally said, her voice slightly muffled.

"Oh darling, that's wonderful news."

She pulled back slightly so she could speak. "Dad and I were there all day today. We got word that Edmund checked in, but thankfully he didn't come by. I was by myself all day yesterday, but at least they let me go in and sit with Grandfather. And today, finally, he woke up. He was groggy and weak, but he was able to see us and speak to us. The doctors say he'll be like that for quite a while. Dad called for Edmund so the two of them can discuss what sort of duties they'll have to take on and for how long. And I wanted to come home and tell you the news."

Harry pressed a kiss to her temple. "I'm glad you did. I've missed you."

Ruth gave him a soft, tired smile. "Some honeymoon. I wasn't supposed to spend a moment without you for three weeks straight. But maybe it was for the best, I was afraid you'd start to get sick of me."

"I won't ever get sick of you, Ruth, that's why I wanted to marry you. And even if I ever do get sick of you, it'll take more than two weeks, I promise," he assured her. It seemed like an age now, since he and Ruth had been on their tropical yacht trip. It was almost a dream. They'd been jolted back to reality rather rudely through all this. But King Richard was alright. He was recovering, he was awake, and everything would be alright. Perhaps Harry could take Ruth on another vacation for their wedding anniversary.

"Ruth?"

She turned to see Graham standing out of the way and looking worried. "Yes, Graham?"

"Are you doing okay? Now that the king is awake, I mean?" he asked tentatively.

Ruth extricated herself from Harry's arms and hurried over to Graham, holding him tight. She kissed the top of his curly blonde hair. "Yes, Graham, I'm okay now. Thank you for asking. Thank you for being so wonderful."

Graham hugged her back. "We were worried about you."

"No need to worry about me. I'm fine. But thank you," she said, kissing him again.

"I love you, Ruth," Graham told her earnestly.

A slightly strangled sob escaped Ruth as she started to cry. "Oh I love you, too, Graham," she replied.

Harry came over and took them both in his arms. Ruth cried, he knew, out of relief and out of the depth of feeling from her stepson. And Harry just wanted to be there with them both, just for now. He and Graham stayed right there, holding Ruth, soothing her as she cried, not letting her go until she all alright again.