This is a very long chapter, but one of my favs in this story so far. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Kire7

Madeline left the door ajar and I remained within my room for a while longer. I hoped if I stayed out of sight, I would avoid being assigned further duties concerning childbirth.

Despite the task being forced upon me, I had enjoyed the triumph of his cries, of how he had grasped hold of my finger and looked up at me.

A dog had lost her life because she had wanted to protect me, my uncle had died in the northern countryside because he thought he was able to save me, a woman had been tortured and presumably killed in the Orient because I had thought I could save her.

The path behind me was gnarled and filled with regret. My Midas touch was destruction, not riches. Nearly everything I had wanted or attempted to love had either perished or left me alone and forgotten.

"Thank the good Lord Erik and Julia didn't leave for their honeymoon at first light," I heard Madeline say with a weary sigh.

"Yes, yes, I considered that when my poor Meg became worse," Charles replied. "What a nightmare this would have been without the two of them."

"Julia knew precisely what Meg needed," Madeline continued. Given how Madeline had disapproved of our relationship for the first five years, hearing Madame praise Julia pleased me.

"Better than a doctor," Charles said, sounding quite relieved. "She has a way about her, quite soothing and reassuring."

"I'm glad Erik finally had the sense to marry her," Madeline said.

I suspected she knew I could clearly hear their conversation.

"Ah, Madame, I am happy as well. And grateful to both of them," he added. "Without Julia I fear I may have lost my sweet Meg, and without Monsieur Kire…my son."

His words made me shudder. Julia deserved praise for her actions, but I knew full well the only reason I had been assigned the duty of caring for the second baby was because there was no one else left. I had done little more than hold him a moment and pat his back, which hardly seemed worthy of mention.

"What is it, Charles?" Madeline questioned when he said nothing further.

He hesitated a moment, his voice lower and quivering when he finally spoke. "How will we ever repay Monsieur Kire?" he questioned.

I listened intently for Madeline's answer as I considered his inquiry. All I had ever requested from Monsieur Lowry was privacy and the finest education for my son. He had done both flawlessly and I respected him for his work.

"I don't believe he will ask for anything in return," Madeline said gently.

"But he has done so much," Charles argued.

"Yes, he has," Madeline replied. "Because he can. And because he chooses to do so. Friendship has no price."

I swallowed hard and took a breath. Long ago she had said as much to me. In those days I had no one but Madeline in my life, but I was too ignorant to see our relationship. Why she put up with me all those years I didn't know, but I was glad for her persistence.

At last I had managed to do more good than harm, to see something survive rather than perish. I felt a sense in pride for my contribution, meager as it was.

The two newborns began to cry and Madeline said something about shutting the door and allowing Meg a few more moments of rest. Once their voices became muffled, I lost interest.

While the two of them chatted a while longer, I gazed out the window at Lisette, who was being dragged around the yard by a filthy basset hound, and Alex, who sat with the small box hugged to his chest. He sat on the ramp, legs swinging back and forth, while he attempted to direct Bessie's tracking of some imagined scent. From the bits of the conversation I heard, Alex was convinced she'd caught wind of a bear.

His enthusiasm amused me until he encouraged Bessie to dig up Meg's flowerbeds.

"A tunnel! She could dig a tunnel and we could travel beneath the city. Oh, just think of it! We could have carts like miners and charge people to use them," Alex excitedly yelled. "Dig, Bessie, dig! Good girl!"

"Alexandre!" I shouted through the open window.

Lisette dropped the leash, Bessie bayed and charged toward the ramp, and Alex merely looked up and squinted, completely unaffected by my tone.

"Aww," he said under his breath. He placed the small package on the ramp, then thought better of his decision and quickly picked it up once more.

"Should we return inside?" Lisette politely questioned as she stood with her hands behind her back. She rocked back and forth, a gesture that seemed hinged on nervousness. I wondered if when I raised my voice at Alex I had unintentionally frightened her—or elicited the unbidden memory of her father.

I leaned forward and placed my hands on the windowsill. "I do believe the dog needs a bath first," I said calmly, seeing Bessie plop down beside Lisette. The dog was so filthy even her tongue was black with dirt.

"May we bathe her?" Lisette asked. She sounded thrilled by the prospect. If only she knew how difficult a process bathing a long, stout, and stubborn dog could be. With Bessie, I often felt as though I were the one bathed in the end.

"You'll have to ask your mother first," I suggested.

The bedroom door hinges creaked and I glanced over my shoulder. Julia slipped into the room and forced a smile. She appeared exhausted, her face drawn and pale, her eyes ringed in dark circles.

"What must she ask her mother?" Julia asked with a muffled yawn following her words.

"She wishes to give the dog a bath," I answered.

"What ever for?" she asked as she joined me at the window and peered outside. "Oh," she gasped. "Oh, goodness. I see now."

"I'll care for them," I promised, taking her hand in mine. I feared she would be upset by the state of the dog and children.

"You will?" she said skeptically.

"As long as Meg is stable and the babies healthy," I clarified, afraid she would put me on watch over the household. "Is she well?"

She offered a smile. "She was afraid," Julia explained. "Apparently a woman she met a few months ago had her baby turned sideways and Meg was worried she would experience something similar. Once she calmed down a bit, she had a much easier time."

"That's quite enough," I said, fearing what else she would divulge. "As long as Meg will not be needing anything else, you rest."

"She's fine," Julia assured me.

"You're certain?"

She shrugged. "I think you're worried over nothing."

"Will the doctor pay her a visit later?" I asked. As much as I trusted her skills as a nurse, I still wanted reassurance that Meg and both children would survive.

Julia grunted. "Not for a few days, I would suspect."

"Why not? Money? Does he want paid up front?" I asked, prepared to pluck my checkbook from my desk and scribble whatever amount of money was needed to ensure their wellbeing.

"It's unnecessary. She had no complications and very few sutures," she answered, seeming unconcerned with the matter.

I scoffed at her words and turned away. "That is quite enough," I grumbled.

"Well, you're the one who continues to ask," she pointed out.

"Then rest," I insisted as I turned and placed my hands on her shoulders. I gently planted a kiss on her forehead.

"What hour is it?" Julia questioned, attempting to stifle a yawn. "We were supposed to leave at noon."

I fished my pocket watch from my waistcoat and heard her groan softly as she noticed the time.

"Half past noon," she muttered. "We could still leave by two if I leave here now and gather our belongings. We'll arrive later, of course, but we could spend all day tomorrow at the seashore."

"There's no need," I assured her. We didn't have to leave at all as far as I was concerned.

"But the cottage," she argued. "Our holiday together."

"I'm sure it will still be standing and run by Leachs tomorrow," I said, perhaps a little too dryly for her taste.

"You're not upset?" she asked.

She sounded somewhat wary, as though she expected disappointment or fury. I felt neither, though I couldn't help but wonder how she had spent her first few days as Louis's wife when she should have been happier than ever. I doubted he had treated her well, new bride or not. He was incapable of being good to her, as far as I was concerned. Perhaps subconsciously she expected in time I would assume a role over her.

"Why would I be upset?" I asked as I leaned in closer and nuzzled her ear. "You're here. What more do I need?"

She put her arm around me and I felt her breaths against the side of my neck. Without her, I had no idea what would have happened to Meg and the two babies. Without her, too much of life was uncertain.

"Madame Giry told Meg about how you were holding the baby," she said softly.

Immediately I pulled away. "You told me to take him," I said defensively.

Julia narrowed her tired eyes. "There is no need to be upset," she assured me. "Madame said she was reminded of how you carried Alex around the house."

She rested her hand on my chest and smiled as she smoothed her fingers over my shirt. "I am afraid, Monsieur Kire, your reputation of being an irritated and grumpy fellow is no longer up for debate. Your gruff disposition has been replaced by saving injured, helpless kittens and reviving infants."

"Reviving?" I snorted. "Hardly."

When she looked up at me, she wrinkled her nose and grinned like a devious little imp. Despite her teasing, I found her words and expression endearing.

"You have two very grateful and loving new parents in this house," she reminded me. She held me tighter. "And despite what you may think, you were wonderful with the baby." Her smile widened. "I adore you."

Gently I cupped the back of her head and kissed her softly on the lips. After mere hours apart, I discovered I longed to be near her again and see her smile, hear her kind words.

"Stay here and rest a while," I said as I gestured toward my bed. "I'll see to Lissy and Alex."

"Are you sure?" she asked, seeming surprised by my offer.

I nodded. "Of course."

"Don't let me sleep long," she said with a shake of her finger. "An hour at the most."

"Father!" Alex bellowed. "Bessie has picked up another scent!"

With a sigh I walked out the bedroom door, assuming I had one very long hour ahead of me.

oooOooo

Before I reached the back door, I heard a familiar and irritating voice from the parlor. The sound of Hermine Leach's high-pitched whine, which she clearly thought passed as music, made me stiffen and grit my teeth.

"I have always had a way with babies," she said, presumably to an audience of Charles and Madeline. "You know Archie always tells me one day I will have a dozen children. Can't you see me? Mother Meanie, surrounded by a gaggle of children."

I rolled my eyes and proceeded through the kitchen where Ruby stood by the stove with one hand on her hip.

"Madame Giry said that dog of yours is not allowed in this house in such a filthy state," she said without bothering to turn and look at me.

Cornered like a rat by Hermine Leach, I assumed Madeline would have preferred the dog's company, filthy or not.

"Did she?" I asked dryly.

Ruby looked at me from the corner of her eye. "She said the house should stay clean for the sake of the new babies."

"If that's the case, then Lisette and Alex shall sleep outside tonight," I remarked.

Ruby giggled to herself but didn't say another word as I exited the house and found myself immediately accosted by an overly excited and drooling beast.

Sad eyes pleaded to be allowed back in the house once more, accompanied by the most pathetic whines I'd heard in my life. Behind her, Alex and Lissy stood side by side, nearly bursting with excitement over giving the dog a bath.

I regarded them a moment and studied the expressions plastered on their round faces. They were beside themselves with overzealous joy; a feeling I had never experienced when I was their age. Their wide-eyed willingness amused me, as did Alex's continued loyalty in holding fast to the box.

"Here," I said as I motioned to him. "You'll need old towels, a rag, some soap, and buckets of water."

Lisette released a squeal of delight, then immediately clapped both hands over her mouth as though she had done something wrong. Alex made a face and nudged her, then stepped toward me and handed over the box.

Once he disappeared into the house, Lisette remained behind. Pushing Bessie onto all fours, I knelt beside the dog and watched Lissy from the corner of my eye.

"You do not wish to help still?" I questioned.

"No, I do," she said, slowly drawing out her words.

I suspected I had frightened her, conjured up some horrible memory of her father yelling at her, berating her. I considered the manner in which my father had spoken to me, his breath hot as his constant rage and soaked in so much alcohol I thought he would spit fire like a dragon.

"What troubles you then?" I asked, still avoiding her gaze.

"I was impolite," she answered meekly.

I snapped my head up and stared at her. "I beg your pardon?"

"When I screamed," she clarified. "That was terribly impolite of me."

Naturally Lisette was proper and well-mannered, a perfect example of Julia's ability as a mother. She had been well taught to respect adults and curb her tone. As much as I hoped Lisette would set a higher bar for Alex, I had a feeling his boorish ways would drag her down to his insolent level—and that eventually I would be blamed for their poor behavior.

"Mademoiselle, I have spent nearly a decade listening to Alex bellow like a mad beast," I said gently.

"Grand-mere Giry said he sounds just like you," she told me.

Well…" There was honestly not much I could say in front of her concerning that commented. I cleared my throat. "Of course, I was rude as well for yelling from the window. My sincerest apologies."

"For acting like Alex?"

"Indeed."

At last she offered a smile and settled her gaze on the box I held in my left hand. "What do you suppose is in there?" she asked, her tone suddenly changing from morose to curiosity.

"I'm not sure," I answered, though I'd hardly had a moment to consider the contents.

"Could it be treasure?" she asked, her eyes seemingly twice as wide.

"I do believe only dragons and pirates have treasure. Unfortunately I am neither," I said dryly.

"And trolls," she pointed out with a quick, easy grin. "And dwarves as well."

Her innocence made me smile. If Alex had been present, he would have pointed out how ridiculous my words were or darted off on a nonsensical and most likely very loud tangent of how his underground tunnels through the city of Paris could have been used to transport riches on the backs of giant moles.

If only I had allowed Bessie to continue digging.

"Then no treasure, I'm afraid." With my knee aching, I stood once more and allowed Bessie to wander off. Seeing how she was covered in dirt, she couldn't come back any worse for wear.

"Could it be a present?" Lissy asked hopefully. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and stepped closer. "A birthday present from your mother lost in the post?"

I knew by the look on her face that my expression had changed completely. She pursed her lips and timidly looked away.

"My parents have been gone for many, many years and were not ones for gifts or celebrations, I'm afraid," I replied awkwardly.

As much as I wished to forgive them, to forget my mother's cruel words and my father's endless abuse, they seemed to haunt me now more than ever. Holding Meg and Charles' son in my arms made it nearly impossible for me to imagine discarding any child, no matter what he or she looked like at birth. If the child I had been asked to hold had bore scars as gruesome as mine, I would not have left him to perish or turned him away. He was tiny and helpless, deserving of a chance as any other.

Lisette had not spoken with cruel intentions, yet her words still stung. She knew nothing of my parents or my life before I had met her mother, for which I was grateful. I feared what she would think of me, how she would reject me if she knew what I had been.

"Then I hope it's a special gift," Lisette said. She had moved closer and stood within arm's reach with her hands clasped in front of her. She looked up at me apologetically. "Something you forgot you wanted," she added.

I bent at the waist and offered my hand, which she took without hesitating. "Perhaps there is treasure after all," I said quietly.

Her smile widened and she nodded as though she was suddenly involved in a fantastic secret.

"I'll help Alex, if you don't mind," Lissy said as she turned toward the door.

"Not at all," I said under my breath as I watched her leave.

I sincerely couldn't imagine wanting more than what I had been given already. Wishing for anything more seemed overindulgent—and for one of the few times in my life I felt satisfied.