Chapter 71

It was past nine in the morning when I woke to Julia releasing a loud gasp. She nudged me hard in the arm before she sprang out of bed.

"We're late!"

I opened my eyes briefly before I pulled the covers up to my chin. "We're on holiday. There is no such thing as being late."

"But the carriage-"

"They're paid by the hour," I pointed out. "If he arrives and waits an hour or two, he can have a cup of tea and eat a peach."

Julia considered my words. "I suppose that's true."

"The eighteenth of August," I said into my pillow. "The date my wife admitted I am correct."

Julia hurled her pillow at me, but missed making contact and sent it tumbling onto the other side of the bed. "We should still get dressed and have breakfast."

I looked at her again and extended my arm toward where she stood. "I have other ideas."

She shook her head at me. "I'm certain you do, but none that will get us onto the road any faster."

An hour later everyone was dressed and in the dining room being served a hearty breakfast. The doors were left open and Bessie was sitting beside the reflecting pool, staring into the water with a furrowed brow as she watched the fish. She tilted her head to the side and backed up a safe distance when the water rippled and a tail fin threatened to splash her.

"Can we stay another night?" Alex asked. "I'd like to sleep in a different room."

"Perhaps another time, my dear," Julia said. "We have to leave soon so that we can meet Madame Batiste."

"Can we stay here on the way back home?" Lisette asked.

"We are," Julia told them. "Once we leave Calais we should be here after dark and then return home the following day."

Both Alex and Lisette grinned in response and debated which rooms they would occupy at the end of our holiday. Evidentially there was a bedroom with roses painted on pink walls and another bedroom with a painting of foxhounds that were their top picks.

"When can we return after that?" Alex asked.

"Perhaps we won't leave."

Alex's expression fell. "But what about Aunt Meg and Uncle Charles?"

"You promised Grandmere we would return in two weeks," Lisette reminded me.

"Would we ever see them again?" Alex asked.

"Your grandmere would venture to the ends of the earth to find you if I ever thought of taking you away from her," I assured my son.

"There are no ends to the earth," Alex pointed out. "The earth is round, Father."

"So it is."

Madeline was the primary reason I had not left Paris after the Opera House disaster. She had fully furnished the house, organized and maintained finances, and forced me to eat when I had wanted nothing more than to waste away.

After Christine abandoned Alex in my care, I couldn't imagine traveling to a different part of Europe to start over with a newborn baby and I coulnd't possibly ask Madeline and Meg to uproot their lives yet again. I became accustomed to the routine of remaining within the house during daylight and venturing out only after dark when the streets were less occupied and Alex was asleep.

Once Charles married Meg and became my son's tutor, we were firmly rooted in the city, and before I realized it, I had a family.

We were almost finished eating when the butler, whose name I hadn't yet caught, appeared in the doorway. "Monsieur, there is someone at the door to see you."

I blinked at him and exchanged looks with Julia. "We are not expecting guests, are we?"

Julia shook her head.

"Is it Grandmere?" Ale asked hopefully.

"It's a gentleman. I will send him away then," the butler said, offering a curt nod.

"Did he give a name?" I asked.

"Yes, Monsieur. Phelan Kimmer."

Immediately I pushed back from the dining room table and stood. I slipped past the butler and strided down the long hall with the butler on my heels. I rounded the corner and found Phelan in the foyer examining a portrait of Hermine Leach. At once I paused, staring at his profile.

"Kire," he said without looking at me.

"I apologize, I didn't think-"

Phelan snorted.

"What are you doing here?" I bluntly questioned.

Phelan turned to face me and smirked. "I heard you were in Rouen." Before I could ask, he pulled out a piece of paper and read, "Rouen for a night, Tomages for three, Calais the remainder. For once Valgarde has proved useful."

"I thought you had left for Belgium."

"I did," he casually replied. "And I'll arrive eventually." He gazed around the foyer and tugged at his waistcoat. "Are we to stand here all morning?"

Behind me, Bessie bayed her greeting and ran down the hall where she offered my brother a play bow and full body wag.

"We're finishing breakfast if you care to step into the dining room. I'll have a place set for you should you be interested."

Phelan picked an invisible piece of lint off his coat. "Coffee," he said, turning his attention to the butler. "Extra cream and a bowl of sugar on the side."

"Of course, Monsieur," the buter answered before he briskly started down the hall toward the dining room.

"I wasn't expecting to see you," I said once we were alone.

"Clearly."

"You look well," I observed.

"As well as one could be being forced to converse with Valgarde for five consecutive days."

"Surely you welcomed his company?"

"The guillotine looked quite inviting after the third day."

I failed to contain a chuckle and saw Phelan grin from the corner of my eye. He followed me into the dining room where we were greeted by whispers that immediately turned into silence.

"Alex, Lisette, this is your uncle, Phelan Kimmer."

My words were followed by absolute silence for a long moment before Alex sprang from his seat and stood at my side.

"Uncle Phelan, I am Alexandre Jean Kire," my son said, offering his hand.

Phelan's demeanor changed drastically. He removed his gloves, bent at the waist, and shook my son's hand. "The budding artist? A pleasure to meet you, Alexandre."

Lisette leaned toward Julia and whispered before she hopped out of her seat and stood on my other side. She reached up and clasped my fingers but didn't speak.

"What's this?" Phelan asked. "Madame Kire, we have met previously, but you appear to be shrunken down."

Lisette couldn't help but smile. She glanced up at Phelan before immediately averting her eyes. "I'm Lisette."

"You sent me the note."

Lisette shyly nodded.

"I was unable to attend lunch, however, I do hope I am invited to breakfast."

Lisette dropped into a deep curtsy. "Would you like to sit next to me?"

"I would be quite honored."

Lisette practically ran back to her seat and waited for Phelan to sit beside her. One of the maids appeared a moment later with a tray containing coffee, cream, and a bowl of sugar as my brother had requested.

"It's so wonderful to see you again," Julia politely said as she covered her plate with her napkin. "How did you find us?"

"In all of Roeun, what better place to stay than the Leach Estate? There is no grander home to welcome the most successful composer in Paris."

"Do you know Archie?" Julia asked.

"Not well, but we've met several times. He seems like a decent fellow."

Had I been taking a sip of my tea, most certainly I would have choked.

Alex raised his hand politely. "Is it true you have a pet bird?"

Phelan shoveled sugar into his cup in a manner I found truly impressive. "I do. A macaw. Do you know what that is?"

Alex readily nodded. "Is your bird in Belgium?"

Phelan stirred his coffee and took a sip. He wrapped his marred fingers around his cup and eyed both children to see if they stared at the scarred flesh, but found them instead staring him in the eye, awaiting his answer.

"Elvira is currently perched on her stand outside of this very estate beneath a tree," he casually answered.

Alex and Lisette gasped in unison. "May we see her?" Alex nearly shouted. His gaze darted around the room. "Please?"

Phelan took another sip. "Elvira is quite particular about the company she keeps. If you wish to see her and your father approves, you must keep a careful distance."

"Does she bite?" Lisette asked.

Phelan nodded. "Sometimes."

"Is it true a bird of that size could bite off a finger?" Lisette questioned.

Phelan bent his index finger and held up his thumb and other three fingers as he showed Alex and Lisette the back of his hand. "It is," he teased. "I've lost a finger to her already."

Lisette wrinkled her nose and made a face. "You're hiding your finger."

"I didn't think I would be able to fool a girl of your intelligence."

"Does your parrot fly?" Alex warily asked.

"My dear boy, you will not be in danger," Phelan assured my son. "Elvira is safely tethered to her perch."

Both Alex and Lisette turned toward me for permission to see the macaw. "As long as you stay at my side and not a step further."

They both enthusiastically promised and sprang to their feet.

"Once I've finished my coffee," Phelan said as he sat back in his chair.

Alex and Lisette, unwilling to lose their opportunity to view an exotic pet, took their seats once more.

"Did you know you're my third uncle?" Alex asked. "I have an Uncle Charles and an Uncle Joshua."

"Two other uncles?" Phelan asked, feigning surprise. "Do either of them have any decent stories to tell about your father?"

Alex's eyes grew wide. "They do not."

Julia looked at me and smiled.

"A pity." Phelan took another sip and gazed out the window into the garden.

Alex pursed his lips and looked around the room. "Uncle Phelan, do you have a story about Father?"

My brother slowly turned his attention back to my son. "It's very possible."

Quite clearly Phelan was unaware that Alex was terribly inquisitive and quaking with the desire to ask a hundred questions.

"Would you tell us a story about Papa?" Lisette politely questioned.

Phelan examined his ceramic coffee cup. "I may."

"If we are on our best behavior?" Alex asked.

Phelan nodded. "Yes, on your very best behavior."

I was certain the thirty additional seconds it took for Phelan to finish his coffee and push his chair back felt like several lifetimes to Alex and Lisette.

"Elvira is waiting for her morning snack," Phelan announced.

Lisette and Alex took turns asking questions about what the bird ate, how much, and if she drank coffee. They walked at Phelan's side, keeping in perfect time down the hallway as Julia and I followed behind.

"I don't want them too close to the bird," Julia whispered.

Phelan came to a sudden stop and looked over his shoulder. "I assure you, Madame, I will not allow Elvira to feast on my newly acquired niece and nephew. At least not for the first visit."

The front of the estate was shaded by the the building itself with its three stories and Mansard roof adding to its impressive height.

There were a few trees around the circular drive that provided shade for two sets of stone benches and lined the path leading to the carriage house. Phelan's carriage was parked on the left side with the stand and the bird beneath a tree. The carriage driver remained in his seat where he eyed the bird from a careful distance and spit tobacco onto the ground.

The moment Elvira spotted Phelan, she spread her wings and cawed out a greeting that immediately stopped Lisette and Alex in their tracks. They stood closer together, neither one of them daring to take another step while their uncle strode forward.

"Come, come," Phelan said with a wave of his hand. Elvira bobbed her head and walked back and forth as far as the tether allowed. With her wings spread, I could see she was missing some of her red feathers. "You needn't stand at such a distance. She cannot leave her perch."

Alex and Lisette took a half-step forward.

"I've enjoyed birds since I was much younger than the two of you," Phelan said. He opened the carriage door, pulled out a small bag, and produced a handful of dried fruit. "When I was a boy, I walked through the woods and left food for the birds, then hid and watched them eat. Closer and closer I stood until I could be within arm's reach of their feeding spot without them flying away."

"What kind of birds?" Alex asked. "Certainly not macaws. They aren't a native species."

"You are very intelligent, Alexandre. When I was a child, l fed all kinds of birds, but my favorite were the crows." Phelan offered Elvira dried cranberries. "Crows leave gifts for those they favor. Buttons, beads, pieces of glass...they would sometimes leave small items near the dish I left out with food. And when I would walk down the game trail, I could hear them calling to one another as a signal that there was a meal for them waiting.

"One time they left a doll made out of yarn and a wooden thimble. I brought it home to your father. He was delighted by the find."

Alex and Lisette both turned toward me, grinning wildly at the first words of their uncle's story.

"I told your father he could feed the birds with me as long as he carried the food, which of course he did because he was desperate for another toy."

"Is that true, Father?" Alex asked.

"Of course it's true," Phelan answered on my behalf. "Do you honestly think I would make up the details?"

"No, Uncle Phelan."

Phelan grunted. "I told him to wait and stay very still while I placed the food onto the plate. Your father marveled at how these birds came down with me standing directly in front of them and practically ate out of my hand. And of course, he wanted to try it too." Phelan gave a dramatic sigh and shake of his head. "I told him absolutely not, but there was no reasoning with him."

Lisette looked at me as though she could not believe what my brother said.

"Alexandre, do you have a stubborn streak?" Phelan asked.

Alex inhaled sharply and stood up straighter. "I do not."

"You most certainly do," I said.

Alex thought a moment, then pushed his hair back from his forehead and grinned. "I have a dent right here!" he exclaimed. "From being stubborn!"

He had a small scar as the result of his temper as an infant, but I didn't argue the point. My son was delighted to share a similarity with me, even if it wasn't quite flattering.

"Ah, then you not only look like your father, but you have his stubbornness as well."

Alex simply beamed at my brother's words and readily nodded.

"I finally agreed to let your father stand beside me and see the birds eating up close, and no sooner had we tossed the breadcrumbs and seeds down when a few sparrows landed on the plate and the tree stump where I fed them. Your father was absolutely elated, and I was amazed that he did not immediately begin chattering away as he was prone to do, but he stayed still and silent."

Inwardly I shared the same excitement Alex and Lisette unabashedly displayed to hear of my past.

"Within minutes we had a dozen little birds hopping around, and then in the distance I heard the crows calling to one another. I whispered to him that there were more coming, and then all of a sudden there were three crows above us and the sparrows fled in all directions. Your father looked up just as the crows swooped down and he immediately jumped into my arms. His sudden movement startled the crows, and they took off complaining while I carried your father the whole way home."

"Why did you have to carry him?" Lisette asked.

"So that the crows wouldn't eat him."

"Was he heavy?" Alex asked.

"Like a load of boulders strapped to my chest."

"How old were you?" Lisette asked.

"I was seven and your father was three and a half."

The incident must have happened the same summer I had gone missing. I wondered how long it was before we were separated from one another, if it had been a matter of days or if we were still together for several more weeks.

In the back of my mind I envisioned my arms and legs wrapped around Phelan's body much the way Alex often clung to me as a toddler. He would jump off the arms of chairs and cling to me, the heels of his feet digging into my back and hands linked around my neck. I could feel his heart beating fast as I carried him through the house. In those moments it felt as though he needed me and me alone.

"You are three and a half years older than Father?" Alex asked.

"And five days," Phelan added.

"Did you bring him back again to see the birds?" Lisette asked.

Phelan turned his attention briefly to me, his expression unreadable. "I did not."

"Because the birds frightened him?" Alex asked.

It took Phelan a long moment to answer. "Truthfully I think it frightened the two of us."

"Why don't the two of you take Bessie out to the garden and give your father and uncle a moment to speak?" Julia suggested.

Alex and Lisette appeared somewhat disappointed, but they nodded and turned to enter the estate.

"Thank you for letting us meet Elvira!" Alex said over his shoulder. "And thank you for not letting her eat us!"

"There is always a next time," he dryly replied.

Julia touched my shoulder and turned to follow them back inside. She shut the door, cutting off the sound of Bessie howling.

Phelan rapped upon the outside of the carriage, startling the driver. "Water the horses," he demanded.

The driver mumbled something in return and snapped the reins, sending the horses in motion around the paved drive and toward the carriage house.

"You've always had a fondness for birds," I commented once we were alone.

"Birds are not like dogs. They don't give their affection freely," Phelan replied. He fed Elvira the remaining food from the bag in his open palm. "They can be anxious, distrusting creatures." Leaning forward, he puckered his lips and pressed them to the bird's beak. "And they are very emotional."

"Dogs are emotional," I said quite defensively. Bessie quite enthusiastically showed her affection for me and knew the changes in my mood and how to react. One nudge of her snout against my palm or soft, pleading look in her droopy eyes and I often forgot my frustration to dote upon her.

"Yes, dogs are emotional creatures," he agreed. "But not in the same manner as birds. No other animal compares to my Elvira."

"You didn't see her while you were…"

"Jailed? No, I did not. She was not pleased, which you can clearly see from the condition of her feathers." Phelan grit his teeth and shook his head. "We were both contained behind bars for far too long."

"The plate," I said suddenly. "The one that you used to feed the birds, was it red?"

Phelan unhooked the tether and secured Elvira to the chain beneath his shirt. The macaw walked up the length of his arm and settled onto his shoulder where she preened herself.

"There were multiple plates. Squirrels and raccoons broke several of them."

I hadn't thought of that. My hopes of uncovering a lost memory diminished.

"What do you remember?" Phelan asked.

"Carrying a red plate." I looked past him at the lemon trees heavy with citrus. "And a bag that was heavier than it looked."

Phelan grunted. "What else?"

I thought a moment, attempting to wade through the sea of thoughts washing over me. "I...I used to have a dream," I stammered. "The birds were so close I could feel the beat of their wings."

Phelan paused and gave a nod. "One of the crows brushed up against you."

"Against my back."

"It hit you in the shoulder," Phelan corrected. "You squeezed your eyes shut and covered your head with both hands."

"I was screaming."

Phelan blinked at me. "For me to get it away from you."

"Yes, because it felt like they were everywhere."

"And I told you they were gone, but you waved your arms around."

"You picked me up so that I would stop screaming, I didn't jump on you."

Phelan stroked Elvira's head. "That is correct. You were nearly paralyzed with hysteria. Flailing about, you knocked the plate off the tree stump and broke it and scraped your hand on tree bark. I picked you up so that you would not hurt yourself."

The panic I recalled, the sensation of being attacked by a flock of birds. Another instance of my past that I had thought was simply a nightmare conjured in my mind, but was truly a moment I had lived. I remembered something reaching out to me, but in dreams it was never a person because I had no recollection of ever being embraced by anyone. Whatever I clung to disappeared as I woke alone in the cellar, unable to make sense of my nightmares while still longing for something or someone to want me. I didn't care what it was; I woke with my heart racing and tears in my mind at the thought of being denied again.

"I don't know why I was so frightened," I admitted. "They were only birds."

Phelan grunted. "I may have told you that if you did not stay still they would peck your eyes out."

I gaped at my brother. "Why would you say such a thing?"

Phelan shrugged. "Because you were constantly in motion and would not stand quietly for more than ten seconds at a time and I assumed you would keep the birds away."

"I was three," I groused.

"And a half." Phelan chuckled to himself.

"Indeed." I exhaled in disgust. "It is because of you I have had a lifelong discomfort around birds."

Phelan held his hands out. "I apologized, but I suppose you don't recall that part."

"Apology," I muttered. "For scaring the hell out of me."

"It wasn't intentional," Phelan said defensively. "I had no idea you would take my words literally, but you put on a most impressive show. Halfway home my arms ached and my back was in knots and I asked if you could walk, but you burst into tears for a second time. Fake tears, I might add, but I humored you."

"Because you thought you would be in trouble with Alak."

"No, because I wanted to protect you." Phelan blew air past his lips. "You were fine," he insisted.

"I'm certain I was genuinely distraught."

"At first."

"You were a terrible brother," I muttered.

Phelan looked genuinely hurt by my statement. "Perhaps I was," he said under his breath. "Unable to keep you from true harm."

Instantly I regretted my words and the subsequent end of a light-hearted exchange between brothers. "Forgive me. My words were not meant as an insult."

Phelan grunted. He remained silent for a long moment and examined his injured hand with the puckered scar tissue. He flexed and wiggled his fingers "Hundreds of times you required my immediate attention and I jumped to your every whim. A single time ignoring you...that was all it took."

"It wasn't intentional."

"How would you know?" he challenged, his voice emerging as a deep growl.

"I wouldn't," I admitted. "And I will never know what truly happened that day. Neither of us will. Should I hold it against you until we are both dead, against my own brother? You..." You are all I have left.

"I hold it against myself," Phelan said quietly.

I shook my head, my throat painfully tight with unexpected emotion.

His words reverberated through me, and I felt the grief and guilt I had clung to for as long as I could recall, creeping to the forefront of my mind.

"I was a terrible child, I told myself, always running away. Always seeking escape. Always afraid to return to the beating I knew awaited but far too frightened to leave for good. It was better to know the pain I faced than venture out into a world that would harm me much worse. If I disappeared for days, they would not let me back into their home and then I would truly be alone. Not free, but alone-and out of all of my fears, the greatest one was solitude."

"If I had looked for you-"

"You did."

"Not hard enough."

My shoulders sagged. "For weeks I have read and reread every letter Joshua gave to me attempting to make sense of what happened, but there are no answers. Our father is dead, our uncle is dead, I lost you and have no memory of it...I cannot dwell on something that can never be repaired. It will drive me mad."

Phelan started to return Elvira to her perch but stopped with his back to me. "The man from the traveling fair, you said his name is Garouche? Do you know where he is now?"

I shuddered. "He is dead."

Phelan nodded once. "Good. If he was not dead, I would kill him for what he did to you."

My brother's admission did not make me feel any better. I would not have asked for him to kill a man on my behalf, to be labeled a murderer as I had been considered at the age of thirteen.

"If there was anything I would ask of you, it is that you make me a better man and that I not make you a worse one."

Phelan grunted. "I am not a good man. Surely Valgarde said as much."

"I'll form my own opinion."

My brother shifted his weight. "You already have one."

"I suppose I do." I lifted my chin and studied him a moment. We both carried the burden of trauma, grief and regrets, but I didn't want his sympathy and he didn't want mine. "You're impatient, short-tempered, and your dry humor and snide remarks are highly irritating and unbecoming of a man your age."

"My age?" Phelan groused. He looked me over, his dark eyes scrutinizing while his lips failed at suppressing a smile. "Perhaps your wife is correct and we do share certain... similarities."

I shrugged. "I suppose it could be possible."

"Aside from the obvious differences in which I am taller, more talented, and a gifted conversationalist. Not to mention I'm clearly blessed with greater intelligence and the ability to grow a beard...if that is what you're attempting with that smudge of dirt on your face?"

"A beard?" I said under my breath. Without thinking I touched the bit of stubble I had not yet bothered to shave off. "What in the hell does that have to do with anything?"

Phelan looked quite pleased with himself. "Ah, Kire, surely I needn't continue? I am sure you are aware, little brother, of all the ways in which I excel. If not I shall provide you with a written list so that you may keep track."

I scowled. "Aware of your delirium. That should be top of your damned list."

Phelan shook his head. "I could always tell when you simply desired to be difficult, which was often. In that regard it seems you will never change."

"Perhaps I merely wish to imitate you."

Phelan narrowed his eyes. "You would not dare to call me difficult."

"Another similarity, elder brother."

"Imitation is flattery." He looked at his pocket watch. "As enjoyable as this has been, I shall delay you no longer. Enjoy your holiday."

"We will be in Calais in three days time," I said before he turned to walk away.

Phelan looked me over. "I am aware."

"If you would care to visit…"

"Are you inviting me?"

"Surely you would not disappoint your niece and nephew twice?"

Phelan considered my words. "They are quite fond of me, for obvious reasons."

I rolled my eyes. "Quite obvious."

"Your terrible brother," Phelan said under his breath.

He eyed me briefly, the hurt still evident in his gaze before he turned his attention back to Elvira and touched his lips to her ivory colored beak without accepting or denying my invitation. I thought of what Phelan had said earlier regarding parrots; they could be distrusting and did not give their affection freely. I wondered if he truly spoke of birds or of himself.

"I misspoke," I said. "You are not terrible."

Phelan grunted. "Finally you are being reasonable."

"What I should have said is you're simply a surly old man." I turned away just as his mouth dropped open and his face reddened. "Calais," I reminded him over my shoulder. "The Leach cottages on the waterfront."

"You irritating little..."

I shut the door before he finished speaking and chuckled to myself, certain I would see him again while we visited the seashore.