Erik Notes: After seven long years I'm afraid my loyal and lowly servant still has not mastered the art of simple document uploading and therefore my story has not been told correctly. Gabrina has been sufficiently punished and the chapters are now as they should be, so if you feel so inclined, you may reread chapters 2 and 3.

If you do not read the two chapters again, I do hope you attempt to avoid any disasters beyond imagination.

Kire4

Charles and I trailed nearly half a street behind Lisette and Alex, who took turns racing to the lamp posts and back. Charles sat with his hands in his lap and head bowed and I made no attempt at conversation. With no words to console him, I figured it was best to leave him to his thoughts, especially given the context of mine.

Three streets from home, Alex and Lisette abruptly came to a stop and stood reading a café sign.

"May we eat here?" Alex shouted.

Everyone on the street paused and looked at him. They shook their heads and seemed disgusted by his brackish behavior.

I nodded, but he'd already turned away and took a seat at the nearest outdoor table. He and Lisette sat giggling until Charles and I approached. Once I pushed Charles to his place at the table, I stood looming over Alex and glared at him.

"Yes?" he asked with a sheepish grin.

"There is no need to shout," I said firmly. I gave a warning look to Lisette, who had started to giggle but immediately stopped and offered her most baleful expression.

"But you were far away," Alex said, his voice hinging on an intolerable whine.

I shook my head at him and sat at the opposite end of the table from Charles, who made no remark to either of us. He didn't respond to the waiter either, who approached shortly after we were seated and left two menus on the table. He was a young man, tall and thin with jet black hair and no expression on his face. He went about the outdoor tables, which were mostly empty, as though he had gone through the motions so many times that the act of serving bored him to death.

"Beautiful day to spend outdoors," Charles said without an ounce of conviction.

"Seems a bit cold and windy," I observed.

Charles shot me a disapproving look, which indicated he was in no mood to argue. Across the street an old woman in rags was selling bread for the pigeons. As soon as Lisette and Alex noticed her, their eyes widened and mouths gaped open. Without a word, I slid a five franc note toward Lissy and told her I expected change returned. Before I finished speaking, the two of them dashed toward the woman as though feeding birds was the most fascinating endeavor they'd ever experienced.

"When did this all begin?" I asked with the children out of earshot.

"When did what...? Oh." He wrinkled his nose at my inappropriate questioning but didn't protest. "Supper," he answered miserably.

"Last night?" I asked.

"Of course," Charles replied, sounding far more impatient than he ever had when addressing me. "She didn't want to leave and ruin your evening," he added.

Immediately my head snapped up. "My evening?" I questioned.

"She feared—"

"Feared?" I questioned, cutting him off. "Feared what? Why was she fearful?" I demanded.

After the last few weeks and all that had happened, she had finally ceased her mousy behavior. We had shared the same house for ten years and at last she had stopped her constant apologizing and incessant darting away when I entered the room.

Perhaps that had all been temporary.

"No, no, I misspoke," Charles said calmly. "Meg thought she would seem rude if we left early. She didn't want to say anything about how she was feeling as she didn't want to detract from the celebration. Last night was meant for you and your wife."

For a moment I considered his words and knew he was correct. Far be it from Meg to ever put herself into the spotlight. She preferred disappearing into the crowd, even from the time she was a young dancer. She wanted nothing more than to blend in with the rest of the troupe despite her mother insisting she was talented enough for a ballet solo.

"Your wife is far too considerate," I grumbled. She was also clearly far too masterful an actress if no one had suspected she was on the verge of giving birth. She would have been quite the lady on the stage if the director had ever realized her talent.

"She was very happy for you," Charles said quietly. "We both were."

"I'm very…concerned for her current state of health," I replied, unable to find a more elegant or suitable phrase.

At last he looked at me and smiled. "Thank you, Monsieur," he said before he hastily grabbed his menu and looked over the contents. "You have no idea how incompetent of a husband and man I feel like leaving her in such a state."

"On the contrary," I said as the waiter set coffee on the table and walked off again.

Charles tapped the edge of his menu against the tabletop and narrowed his eyes. "What did you think the first time you saw your son?"

"He was three months old the first time I saw him," I replied, feeling shameful for my admission. I wished the circumstances had been different. I wished I had seen him moments after birth instead of months.

Charles and I had never discussed Alex's arrival, though I assumed Meg had told him the details considering she had been there the day Alex arrived and her husband had spent the last few years as his tutor. The details of how he knew of Alex's arrival didn't bother me. All that mattered was he provided my son with a challenging education.

"Forgive me, Monsieur, but that wasn't my question. What did you think when you saw him?"

"I thought he was far too fragile, bright red as a strawberry, and screaming like a beast," I admitted. "He was, by all accounts, perfect."

Charles chuckled to himself. "I cannot picture our son or daughter," he told me. "I worry something will happen, that I have willed some horrible fate upon our child."

I had mixed emotions regarding fate. My own fate had been fraught with overwhelming cruelty and horror. I had trusted few and had regretted all but a handful of acquaintances I had made in my lifetime. Fate, I felt, owed me for the years I had merely existed rather than lived.

But I had been an intolerable infant and terrible youth, always slinking away and attempting to escape. I had not deserved Alex coming into my life, or Julia for that matter.

Charles, however, was intelligent, exceptionally kind and patient, and had never said a harsh word or wished harm upon anyone. My fate was well-deserved, but he was entitled to more in his life. With his legs rendered useless, he should not have been made to suffer further.

"Why?" I questioned. "Why would you think such a horrible thought?"

He shook his head. "I feel as though I should have an idea of what my son or daughter would look like. Don't you think?"

"No, I do not," I said, uncomfortable with the turn in conversation.

I hadn't pictured Alex at all. I had merely hoped he would bear no resemblance to me.

"What did you think he would look like?" Charles asked. He seemed to realize he should not have asked me such a question, as his face immediately sobered.

"I was told he would never be born," I said as I snatched up my menu to avoid looking him in the eye. This was not the conversation I had expected to have with anyone, least of all Charles.

I could feel him staring at me, perhaps considering my words and where he and Meg would have been if not employed within my home.

"She didn't know she was…" he said, his voice trailing off once he ran out of suitable words.

My mood darkened. "She knew very well," I said. "And she wanted rid of him."

"You didn't expect him, and yet…here he is." Charles turned and looked across the street. "He is a remarkable young man. The image of his father, I would say."

I may not have expected him, but I couldn't imagine my life without him. I followed Charles' gaze to where Alex and Lisette stood side by side. Lisette had crumbs in her hand and Alex tormented her by holding her arm out straight while an entire army of pigeons attempted to land on her. She laughed and shrieked all in the same breath and Alex, devious as ever, grinned and flinched as gray wings nearly smacked him in the face.

"There he is indeed," I commented. "Torturing his new sister of less than twenty-four hours. God help us all."

"They will both be very pleased with a new brother or sister," Charles said, attempting to be polite. "When you and Madame Kire are prepared to welcome a new addition, of course."

I inhaled sharply. "Niece or nephew will do for now, Monsieur Lowry," I said as the waiter approached and asked for our orders.

The children, seeing the waiter at the table, dropped the remaining breadcrumbs and ran across the street, nearly colliding with a gentleman in a gray coat and red scarf. Annoyed with them, I gruffly told them to wash their filthy hands before sitting at the table.

Lisette pulled out a handful of coins caked in the remnants of bird food and attempted to return the money back to me, but I mumbled for her to keep it. She looked positively delighted and oblivious to my disgust. At least she was honest and willing to return the rest; Alex would have spent the rest before crossing the street.

"They've turned into animals," I said once they disappeared inside the café. "Intolerable, insufferable beasts."

"Of course," a man said from behind me. "They're children. My father would have expected no less from two children. In fact, I believe he tolerated quite a bit more from me when I was their age."

I twisted around and found my cousin Joshua adjusting his red scarf. He smiled warmly once I stood and shook his right hand. Tucked beneath his left arm, he held a small parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied with string.

"Where are you walking?" I asked.

"To your home," he answered. "Or at least I was until I spotted Alexandre and Lisette. Where is your wife?" His gaze flickered from me to Charles and his expression sobered. "Ah, I see. Your home is quite alive these days, Monsieur Kire."

"More so than I ever expected," I mumbled. I gestured for him to sit. "Will you join us?"

He nodded. "Of course, of course, a meeting of worried fathers both past and present removed from the home," he said dryly as he pulled up a chair from an empty table and set his small parcel between us.

"Lovely day," Joshua said. "You were supposed to leave in a few hours, correct?"

I nodded, wondering what the Leaches would do with our late arrival—if we left at all for the week.

"Where were you headed again?" Joshua questioned.

"I have no idea," I glowered.

Charles looked up from his coffee and furrowed his brow. "Ah, you are very much married," he said with a laugh.

"Indeed," I said under my breath as the children returned to the table and appeared delighted to have another guest.

"Monsieur Kimmer!" Alex said enthusiastically. "Father, did you see Monsieur Kimmer is eating breakfast with us?"

How he thought I could miss a grown man seated at such a small table, I had no idea.

"Of course, Alex," I replied rather tightly.

Joshua nodded appreciatively. "Tea only, but thank you," he said as he shook my son's outstretched hand and acknowledged Lisette's curtsy with a smile.

Food was brought to the table a moment later, which offered a distraction. Charles, Joshua and I sat in silence while Lisette and Alex devoured their food like hogs before a trough.

"Alexandre and Mademoiselle Lisette, are you both looking forward to your holiday by the seashore?" Joshua asked.

With eyes wide, the two of them nodded and began rambling off a list of what they would do with their time away from Paris. Neither of them had been outside of the city, and hearing the two of them speak provided momentary entertainment.

"We're going to build a castle out of sand," Lisette said, squealing in delight. "One big enough to house a crab, and turtles, and gulls."

"And Meanie said we could perform for the crabs once they're settled into their new home," Alex reminded her.

"Perform what?" Joshua asked.

"Meanie is going to perform in America," Lisette told him, sounding quite proud of Hermine Leach. "She's going to teach us how to dance, and juggle, and put on an amazing, unforgettable show."

"I'm going to learn how to juggle fire," Alex said. He spoke as though this had already been decided. "And then knives, and perhaps even cannon balls, though I think fire would be easier. Meanie said I could even have a pet tiger—or a bear. I want both."

Joshua glanced at me, then turned his attention back to Alex. "You will undoubtedly be the most educated circus entertainer in Europe with your fire juggling skills."

"I want to learn how to walk a tight rope," Lisette said.

They spoke distinctly different, which I noticed as the conversation progressed. Lisette took after her mother and spoke in short, soft sentences whereas Alex continued until he was nearly out of breath. His gestures and the way he sat reminded me of my uncle, and after a while I glanced at Joshua, who regarded him with a fond smile. I wondered if he saw his father's image in my son.

As much as I appreciated my cousin's presence and conversation, I still longed for one last moment with my uncle. I couldn't help but wonder what my uncle would have thought or said when he heard Alex talking—or what he would have said if he'd seen me sitting in public by the light of day.

"You're thinking fondly of someone," Joshua commented as he stirred his spoon in his half-empty cup of tea.

Startled, I blinked and looked at him. "Your father," I answered.

He didn't appear surprised by my answer. With a smile, he tapped his fingers on the parcel between us and inhaled. "My memory is not what it once was, but just last night my daughter reminded me of a box I had kept in the attic from years ago," he said.

I looked at the small box between us. "This?" I asked.

"Yes," he nodded. "Addressed to you, originally, and delivered to my address."

My heart thudded. This was one last word from the man who had meant the world to me, one last scrap of comfort and assurance.

"From your father," I said, keeping my voice low.

Joshua shook his head. "No, though I do have several more letters from him you may want. Elizabeth reminded me of those as well. He was always quite the entertainer in his correspondence."

I furrowed my brow. No one else would have expected me in Paris and certainly no one would have forwarded a package to me at my cousin's home.

"I didn't have your address," I explained. "I would not have had a package sent to your home."

Joshua turned his head to the side and studied the box wrapped in tattered brown paper. "A fascinating mystery," he said. "Or perhaps your memory is as bad as mine. Regardless, it belongs to you."

"Do you know what's inside?" I asked.

He nodded. "After a while, when you and my father did not arrive, I opened it and saw the contents, yes."

"What is it?" I asked impatiently.

Joshua scooted his chair back from the table and stood. "The sender would want you to see for yourself," he said firmly. "Enjoy your holiday, Monsieur Kire. Tell your wife I send my congratulations to her." He glanced at Charles. "And you as well, Monsieur Lowry."