Charles blinked and looked about. The room, the mirrors, the pools, those awful, awful images of what could have been...
All were gone.
But his eyes were still full of the green light, of the knowledge of what could have happened, and he was still shaking.
“Sir,” the voice came again. “What is the matter? Are you well?”
He started at that and focused on the sight of a concerned Mary, hovering over him.
“Mary?” he gasped, wonderingly.
He was...home?
He glanced about and saw the familiar painting of Master Kenway. He felt the smooth edge of his desk underneath his hands.
He was...in his office?
Had it all been a dream then? The green room? Had he been so wounded by the Assassin as to fall into fevered sleep? If he was still about and alive...
Mary frowned.
“Sir, you must not be well. I will call my girls and have them escort you up to rest.”
She moved to all out.
Charles quickly grabbed a hold of the sleeve of her dress.
“No!”
She turned startled eyes to him.
“No,” he repeated again, more softly. He had never found it necessary to raise his voice to Mary in his life, and he would not begin now.
“I am quite well. Merely a bit out of sorts.”
She did not look appeased.
“Sir, we were not expecting you back for another few hours. Were you not riding to the town proper to address the city folk?”
Was he?
How odd.
The last he remembered was ending up in that green room after that blasted Assassin tried to kill him.
Wait.
Charles ran a tentative hand along his side, feeling for the injury he knew he had sustained.
Nothing.
He frowned, gently rubbing the location he knew that bullet had entered him.
It wasn't possible. The Assassin had shot him there. It wasn't possible that there wasn't even a twinge now, that he couldn't even feel a scar or a wound or anything.
He turned wide eyes to Mary.
“Mary,” he began slowly. “I know this may be strange, but indulge me for a moment.”
She creased her eyebrows in confusion, but nodded, loyal as ever.
He paused, not quite sure how to begin.
“Did anything—unusual—happen in the past few days?”
“Unusual?” she repeated, looking no less confused.
Charles nodded.
“Yes. It is quite important.”
She thought for a moment.
“Well, now that you mention it, there was an odd green light that I noticed around 10 minutes ago.”
Charles froze at that.
“Green light?” he murmured.
It couldn't be...
Such a thing was fantastical!
But...
The timing, the coincidence...
“Yes, sir. I thought it strange, since you were supposed to be on your way to town by now, and Master Davies had just finished his examination of Mister Lee...”
All thought stopped.
“What?” Charles grasped Mary's hands urgently, disbelieving his ears.
She looked startled.
“Sir...”
“Please repeat what you just said, Mary. I beg you, do not question me on this.”
“Master Davies left because he finished his examination of Mister Lee,” she began slowly. She looked uncomfortable.
“Sir, what is—“
“And my wife is well?” Charles interrupted.
She pursed her lips.
“As well as he can be in his condition.”
Charles's eyebrows furrowed.
“Condition?”
Mary looked away.
“Master Davies said that Mister Lee is...expecting again.”
But that sounded like wonderful news! Except that Mary looked more troubled than ever.
“You do not look pleased that my family is growing.”
“I am sorry, sir, but Master Davies did not think well of his chances with what happened with the last miscarriage and how he is still insensate...”
Charles released her hands abruptly. He was stunned by the news. Absolutely stunned.
“But I do not doubt that Master Davies will find a solution,” Mary hastened to add, seeing his expression. “He was riding to tell you of the news...”
She trailed off, thinking.
“I suppose,” she continued, “I suppose he must have just missed you.”
Charles would have supposed the same thing. If he had any recollection of going to town and riding back in the first place.
Or of his beloved wife's apparent insensate state.
Something was amiss.
“Mary,” he began again. “What are your thoughts on my wife?”
His eyes caught her sudden guilt, and a suspicion grew in his mind.
“I—“ She looked vastly uncomfortable.
“I will not judge or punish you unduly, Mary,” Charles chided. “You know that.”
She nodded.
“I did not care for him. He was brought into this household unwillingly, and he has caused you much grief in this single year that I've known him. He was unable to give you the Alpha son you desired when he miscarried, and now it looks as if he will never be in a state to do so.”
Charles was speechless.
This...this...
“Despite his relation to Master Kenway, he is in no way like his father. He treats you without the respect you deserve to command from your own wife, and he has long looked as if he preferred death to your company.”
She sighed in disgust.
“You are a charitable husband and my master. I know you care for him, and this sorry business has hurt you greatly. I cannot condone that.”
Charles stirred.
“You said did,” he pointed out.
Mary looked startled, then resigned.
“He is but a child still in some ways. No doubt, he did not learn proper behavior with his wild background. If he had only been under Master Kenway's tutelage and care as he should have been...”
She shook herself.
“I do not dislike him. I cannot. He is your wife, and...”
Her voice softened.
“And it is difficult to dislike someone who has been through what he has.”
Charles was close, so close, to understanding what was going on.
“Oh?” he prompted.
Mary nodded.
“I am sorry, sir. But I had ill feelings when you first set out to capture him. He was an enemy to you, so you said, and fought against your plans. He was not pleased with his pregnancy, and I could see it sapping his strength. And of course, when he learned that George Washington, his old paramour, died...”
Finding Connor 5
Chapter 4
“Sir? Are you all right?”
Charles blinked and looked about. The room, the mirrors, the pools, those awful, awful images of what could have been...
All were gone.
But his eyes were still full of the green light, of the knowledge of what could have happened, and he was still shaking.
“Sir,” the voice came again. “What is the matter? Are you well?”
He started at that and focused on the sight of a concerned Mary, hovering over him.
“Mary?” he gasped, wonderingly.
He was...home?
He glanced about and saw the familiar painting of Master Kenway. He felt the smooth edge of his desk underneath his hands.
He was...in his office?
Had it all been a dream then? The green room? Had he been so wounded by the Assassin as to fall into fevered sleep? If he was still about and alive...
Mary frowned.
“Sir, you must not be well. I will call my girls and have them escort you up to rest.”
She moved to all out.
Charles quickly grabbed a hold of the sleeve of her dress.
“No!”
She turned startled eyes to him.
“No,” he repeated again, more softly. He had never found it necessary to raise his voice to Mary in his life, and he would not begin now.
“I am quite well. Merely a bit out of sorts.”
She did not look appeased.
“Sir, we were not expecting you back for another few hours. Were you not riding to the town proper to address the city folk?”
Was he?
How odd.
The last he remembered was ending up in that green room after that blasted Assassin tried to kill him.
Wait.
Charles ran a tentative hand along his side, feeling for the injury he knew he had sustained.
Nothing.
He frowned, gently rubbing the location he knew that bullet had entered him.
It wasn't possible. The Assassin had shot him there. It wasn't possible that there wasn't even a twinge now, that he couldn't even feel a scar or a wound or anything.
He turned wide eyes to Mary.
“Mary,” he began slowly. “I know this may be strange, but indulge me for a moment.”
She creased her eyebrows in confusion, but nodded, loyal as ever.
He paused, not quite sure how to begin.
“Did anything—unusual—happen in the past few days?”
“Unusual?” she repeated, looking no less confused.
Charles nodded.
“Yes. It is quite important.”
She thought for a moment.
“Well, now that you mention it, there was an odd green light that I noticed around 10 minutes ago.”
Charles froze at that.
“Green light?” he murmured.
It couldn't be...
Such a thing was fantastical!
But...
The timing, the coincidence...
“Yes, sir. I thought it strange, since you were supposed to be on your way to town by now, and Master Davies had just finished his examination of Mister Lee...”
All thought stopped.
“What?” Charles grasped Mary's hands urgently, disbelieving his ears.
She looked startled.
“Sir...”
“Please repeat what you just said, Mary. I beg you, do not question me on this.”
“Master Davies left because he finished his examination of Mister Lee,” she began slowly. She looked uncomfortable.
“Sir, what is—“
“And my wife is well?” Charles interrupted.
She pursed her lips.
“As well as he can be in his condition.”
Charles's eyebrows furrowed.
“Condition?”
Mary looked away.
“Master Davies said that Mister Lee is...expecting again.”
But that sounded like wonderful news! Except that Mary looked more troubled than ever.
“You do not look pleased that my family is growing.”
“I am sorry, sir, but Master Davies did not think well of his chances with what happened with the last miscarriage and how he is still insensate...”
Charles released her hands abruptly. He was stunned by the news. Absolutely stunned.
“But I do not doubt that Master Davies will find a solution,” Mary hastened to add, seeing his expression. “He was riding to tell you of the news...”
She trailed off, thinking.
“I suppose,” she continued, “I suppose he must have just missed you.”
Charles would have supposed the same thing. If he had any recollection of going to town and riding back in the first place.
Or of his beloved wife's apparent insensate state.
Something was amiss.
“Mary,” he began again. “What are your thoughts on my wife?”
His eyes caught her sudden guilt, and a suspicion grew in his mind.
“I—“ She looked vastly uncomfortable.
“I will not judge or punish you unduly, Mary,” Charles chided. “You know that.”
She nodded.
“I did not care for him. He was brought into this household unwillingly, and he has caused you much grief in this single year that I've known him. He was unable to give you the Alpha son you desired when he miscarried, and now it looks as if he will never be in a state to do so.”
Charles was speechless.
This...this...
“Despite his relation to Master Kenway, he is in no way like his father. He treats you without the respect you deserve to command from your own wife, and he has long looked as if he preferred death to your company.”
She sighed in disgust.
“You are a charitable husband and my master. I know you care for him, and this sorry business has hurt you greatly. I cannot condone that.”
Charles stirred.
“You said did,” he pointed out.
Mary looked startled, then resigned.
“He is but a child still in some ways. No doubt, he did not learn proper behavior with his wild background. If he had only been under Master Kenway's tutelage and care as he should have been...”
She shook herself.
“I do not dislike him. I cannot. He is your wife, and...”
Her voice softened.
“And it is difficult to dislike someone who has been through what he has.”
Charles was close, so close, to understanding what was going on.
“Oh?” he prompted.
Mary nodded.
“I am sorry, sir. But I had ill feelings when you first set out to capture him. He was an enemy to you, so you said, and fought against your plans. He was not pleased with his pregnancy, and I could see it sapping his strength. And of course, when he learned that George Washington, his old paramour, died...”
Charles grasped the edge of his desk unsteadily.
“Mary.”
Mary stopped.
“Sir?”
“Bring me my journals. I have need of them.”
“At once sir.”