The Musician (Emerson Pass Historicals 5) - Page 54

“Someone might have to if we’re to get them to America,” James said.

If we were to get them? “We?” I asked out loud.

“James might come home with us,” Fiona said. “As our guest until he gets his publishing job.”

I took in a deep breath, knowing I must be careful what I said and how I said it. “You’re paying the way of a man who has already borrowed money from you that he’ll never be able to pay back?”

She gasped. Her eyes glittered with anger and hurt. I’d gone too far. “You know nothing about James.”

“It’s all right,” James said. “He’s right about my prospects.”

“He is not,” Fiona said, loudly. “Circumstances can change like this.” She snapped her fingers. “Especially for clever men like James.” She looked me straight in the eye. “As for you, the more you tell me not to do this, the more I want to.”

I sighed, knowing I wouldn’t win this argument today. Or probably ever.

“This is why we’ve come to Paris. I know it.” Fiona stood and walked to the window. The robin remained, and the two of them seemed to take each other in, two songbirds united in making the world more beautiful. Fiona turned in a dramatic circle, gesturing with her glass of wine in a way that reminded me of a symphony conductor. “I couldn’t understand why until today. Studying with Basset is not the reason God brought me here. It was to save these little boys.”

“What exactly do you want to do?” I asked, resigned to what she would say next. Take them home.

Sure enough, she said exactly that. “I want to take them home. My family will look after them, one way or the other.” She didn’t say, “like we did you,” but she didn’t have to. I knew it, and so did she. Her father’s legacy lived on in Fiona. There would be no persuading her away from the idea. Not that I would have tried again. I could see that was futile.

James cleared his throat. His eyes had grown tender and sad during the children’s tale of woe. But now they glittered with concern, not for the boys but for Fiona. “Darling, he has a good argument. This is a lot to take on. You don’t know the children. They could be liars or thieves.”

“So what if they are?” Fiona stalked over to the sofa and sat on the other end from me. An emerald ring on her hand sparkled in a spot of sun. “It would change nothing. They’re eight-year-old boys who will die on the streets of Paris. It’s only by the grace of God the winters haven’t already killed them. We’ll take them home and my family will raise them one way or the other. They can go to school there. Learn English. Have lives of opportunity instead of this death sentence.” She turned to me. “Like we gave you.”

I nodded, acquiescing. “Whatever you want, we shall do. How can I be of service?”

She gave me a tight, satisfied smile. “Thank you.”

“Fiona Barnes, you’re a handful,” James said. He looked over at me and raised an eyebrow. “It’s going to take quite a man to partner with you.”

“There will be no man,” Fiona said.

“Darling, you’re too beautiful and sweet and smart not to marry,” West said. “You’ll be depriving your soul mate of his true calling.” He gave me a pointed look.

West really knew how to lay it on thick.

“However, about the boys—there’s one other idea,” James said lightly. “What if we visited an orphanage? There might be a chance of them being adopted by a nice French couple. They passed a law to address the issue of those orphaned after the war. They’re encouraging older couples to adopt if they’re childless or have lost a child. It’s not unfeasible to think they might be better served by staying in their native country, where they speak the language.”

“Do you know of such a place?” Fiona asked.

James nodded. “Yes, there’s an orphanage not far from here. Run by nuns. Shall we go there and see what they could offer? We could speak to them about the odds of the boys being adopted.”

“They won’t be,” Fiona muttered. “They’re too old. My brother-in-law Phillip lived in an orphanage after his parents died. No one comes for older children.” Her voice had grown raspy. She pressed a handkerchief against her mouth.

“We’ll take a look,” I said softly. “But if it’s not suitable, then we’ll come up with the next idea.”

She gave me a grateful smile. “I know you must think I’ve lost my mind, but I can’t let this go. This might be the most important work we ever do.”

“If you want, I’ll go to the embassy and inquire about adoption,” I said.

“I’ll join you. First thing tomorrow,” West said.

“You will?” Fiona asked, bobbing her gaze from one of us to the other. “Together?”

“We’re practically brothers by now,” James said. “Both taken into the fold of the Barnes family.”

“For heaven’s sake, really?” Fiona asked, laughing. “What’s changed?”

We both looked at her innocently. “What do you mean?” I asked.

“Never mind, then. Now that we have all that settled, what should we do for dinner?” Fiona asked.

We all looked at one another and burst out laughing.

Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024