Chapter Fifty-Seven

Harry woke up with a scowl. That happened a lot nowadays. It was difficult to wake without Ruth. It had been an entire week now that he'd been living apart from her, and it wasn't getting any easier. He naturally rolled over and reached to her side of the bed so he could hold her in his arms. But all he found was the cold emptiness where she hadn't slept.

The one consolation, however, came right on the heels of Harry waking. A soft knock sounded at the door, and Harry's hoarse voice called for entry. And sure enough, Emilia and Charlotte came padding through the room and climbed right up on the bed and each cuddled on either side of him.

"Good morning, Daddy," Charlotte said sweetly.

Harry kissed each of them. "Good morning, my darling girls."

They never really talked much. Girls aged three and four weren't really very skilled conversationalists. And Harry thought that his daughters were insightful enough to know that he wasn't much for inane chatter. Not first thing in the morning, at any rate. All he wanted was this, just lying and waking slowly with his marvelous children in his arms.

After all, Harry wasn't the only one who missed Ruth. It had taken Charlotte longer than Emmy to figure out precisely what was going on, but neither had stopped asking where Mummy was for the first four days. Harry had explained it to them many times, but serious matters are sometimes very difficult for small brains to understand.

As far as the children knew, their grandfather was Very Important but also absolutely devoted to them. And that was quite true. King James absolutely adored those little girls. He was forever doting on them, hugging and kissing them, bestowing the best and most extravagant gifts on them, and making sure they both knew that they were the most important little things in the whole world. They did not know, really, that he was king or what that meant. And they did not know that he was sick. He had been sick far longer than they'd been alive. He had been sick longer than Harry and Ruth had been married, in fact.

Harry tried not to think about it most of the time, the way things had changed so drastically from when Harry had gone to see King Richard to ask for his consent to marry Ruth till now. Back then, he imagined that he and Ruth would live in the Pearce manor in the capital for the rest of their lives. He thought the two of them would work side by side at Foreign Intelligence, making the very best of the department they had built together. He never pictured them having children together, but instead raising Catherine and Graham together and then welcoming grandchildren many years down the road, after they'd retired to happily live out their days. Ruth's royal status was one of slight inconvenience but nothing more. He thought he could just call her Princess Louisa to tease her, but it would be otherwise inconsequential. That was the life he was prepared for. That was the life he had wanted.

Instead, King Richard had died and King Edmund took the crown. Bloody Juliette hadn't been able to give the king the children he desperately needed, and he had died with no heir. King James was never supposed to accede to the throne, particularly not with the cancer that was very cautiously and carefully and secretively managed. Ruth was never supposed to be next in line, and he and Ruth were never supposed to be panicked about having children of their own in order to ensure the succession. But here they were.

It was certainly not all bad, of course. Emilia and Charlotte were the best things in all the world, and the whole family thought so. Harry did not regret them in the least, not for a single moment. He could hold them here in his arms when his beloved wife was far away.

A week ago, King James had taken a turn for the very worst. His condition had worsened so the doctors had increased the dosages of his treatment, only that treatment was too much for his weakened body to handle. He had fallen into a coma, and Ruth was called to his bedside.

She had called Harry from the palace as soon as she'd gotten to see her father and speak to the doctors. It was not as bad as they'd feared; he had woken up from the coma and was conscious intermittently, but he was so weak and tired that he was barely awake for more than a few minutes each day. Ruth did not want to leave him, so she sent for some of her things from Leister, and she had moved into the palace in the capital. It was the same room she and Harry usually stayed in during the holiday season, so it was not too unfamiliar.

But what it left them with was Harry sleeping apart from his wife for the first time since they were married. Even when they had been extraordinarily busy, she would always eventually climb into bed beside him and kiss him as she got up in the morning. Overnight stays anywhere had been done together.

It was hard on Harry, certainly, but he understood it. It was much harder on the girls. They had known their mother to be busy in the last year or so, but this was very different. They had not seen her in a week. Harry spent as much time with them as he could, but he still had to be available to speak to Erin over the phone or review things that were sent to him from Foreign Intelligence that absolutely needed his approval. Emmy was the more attention-hungry of the sisters, and she did not take well at all to both of her parents being unable to pay her any mind whenever she wanted them. He'd had to call Erin back only yesterday because Emilia had the most extraordinary tantrum. Charlotte got quite sullen whenever there was any sort of tension around. Emmy cried and screamed and rolled on the floor while Charlotte fidgeted her little hands and paced back and forth worriedly. It was all getting a little more than Harry could handle on his own.

Oh he had Malcolm and Fiona and the rest of the Leister staff to help out, but they weren't the girls' parents. Harry felt absolutely awful whenever someone else had to step in because Harry was getting overwhelmed. And, of course, knowing that he had completely neglected this aspect of parenthood the first two times around absolutely ate him alive with guilt. He had never seen Catherine or Graham throw a tantrum because he'd left Jane to handle it and, after she died, he'd been working overseas. His elder children had been strangers to him when they were this age. He desperately wanted to do better this time, but the guilt was still there. He really was trying.

"Daddy, can we have waffles for breakfast?" Emmy asked, breaking the silence of the morning.

Harry's heart sunk at that. Waffles were Ruth's favorite. It felt awful eating them without her, but he wanted to give the girls things to cheer them up. If Ruth's daily reports about her father's progress were any indication, the family would not have many happy times for quite some time. "I think that would be quite nice. Let's all get up and get dressed, and we can go down and have waffles."

The girls agreed. They got out of the bed and returned to their room where one of the maids would help them get dressed. Ruth usually did that, but Harry had been forced to admit defeat on that front. He himself got up and showered before dressing himself.

Waffles certainly cheered the girls. The chef at Leister had learned quite well what all the family enjoyed, and the winner for Charlotte at the moment was blueberry syrup. Harry found the stuff disgustingly sweet, but his baby daughter absolutely loved the stuff. Well, she wasn't a baby anymore. At three years old, Charlotte was now adept at using a fork all by herself. Harry helped cut her food for her and then she could feed herself just fine. Harry felt like it was only about a month ago that Ruth had stopped breastfeeding. The passage of time could be quite baffling at times.

Breakfast was interrupted by an unexpected arrival. "Any extra waffles?"

"Catherine!" Emilia squealed. She scrambled out of her chair and ran to her big sister and leapt into her arms.

Harry, too, got up to greet his eldest child. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Funny way to greet me," she snipped. But she smiled and shifted Emmy onto one side so she could hug her father. Harry kissed her cheek and found it absolutely baffling that he had a daughter who was the same height as he was.

"Welcome back, sweetheart," he said, greeting her properly. "I'm gladder than I can say to see you."

She nodded, putting Emmy back on the ground. "I saw in the newspaper that the king is ill. And I figure if it's finally in the papers, it must be very serious. Thought you and Ruth could use a hand. Where is she?"

"Ruth is at the palace with her father. Has been for a week. Things are not going well. I think she'll call any day for the rest of the family to go join her. I think this might be it," Harry said grimly.

Catherine sighed sadly. "Guess I'm here just in time. I can stay with my sisters while you work. I imagine you're going to have to settle things on that end sooner rather than later."

Harry hadn't wanted to admit that just yet, but Catherine was absolutely correct. But she did not wait for his response. She went to take the empty seat next to Charlotte and greeted her gently, knowing that Charlotte was much less rambunctious than Emilia. Harry smiled to see all his daughters at one table, but he felt quite keenly the absence of both Ruth and Graham. Something told him he'd have the whole family back together quite soon, though not for the purpose any of them would have hoped for.