The Garden's End (MLM)

CHAPTER THREE.

                Oliver and Pip came out from behind the wall, the rest of the household in such a state of chaos that no one noticed or questioned these two men arriving lastly and together.

Oliver gave Pip a fleeting glance before he joined his sister in the long line waiting to greet the newcomer. Pip stood alongside Charles.

The carriage stopped and as a footman rushed to open the door, Pip noticed almost everyone else had turned rigid and serious. Pip, however, kept glancing down his left to where Oliver stood, his expression unreadable.

The door to the carriage opened, and Pip turned to look. The man that descended was not like any man Pip might have expected. His black hair looked nothing like either of his siblings', and his hazel eyes were far darker than Oliver's.

He wore a black coat, shirt, and trousers, but Pip had the feeling that it was for less than a funeral and more to suit the man's dark and shadowed expression, as though the frown of disapproval had been permanently etched into his face.

He was handsome, certainly Pip would not deny that, yet what was the value of beauty when everything in his stance—his straight shoulders, his gloved hands, and strong jaw tilted upward—discouraged any affection?

No, Pip decided at once. This was not a man one could so easily approach, for if Oliver was the beautiful golden prince, Robert Westcott was the cruel king, and Pip had known his share of cruel rulers.

"Robbie!" Jane ran ahead and attempted to jump into his arms. Lord Westcott, however, did not pick her up and so she stumbled. She was undeterred. "Did you bring me back anything?" she said eagerly.

Lord Westcott did not respond, and instead patted her little head twice before moving past her. Miss Westcott came forward hopefully and hugged him. With one arm and a grim expression that betrayed no love for his little sisters, he hugged her back.

Oliver made no such attempt and instead crossed his arms as Lord Westcott drew near, as though already defending himself from an impending attack.

"Have a good trip, brother?"

"It was all right," Lord Westcott said briefly, his voice deeper than Pip imagined it would be. "Until the end, that is."

And he walked past Oliver, up the marble steps, not giving him a chance to say anything else.

The other servants rushed after Lord Westcott, but Pip lingered behind, for Oliver had stayed where he was, staring at the carriage.

"Well," said Oliver when Pip neared him. "That went better than I thought it would."

"Are you all right?" asked Pip.

Oliver smirked. "Of course, I am." He turned towards the stairs, straightened his coat, and stopped. "Remember your promise," he said more softly. "Stay close to me."

Pip nodded once, strengthening his voice. "Always."

That seemed to satisfy Oliver and he climbed the stairs. Pip waited a moment, counting in his head as he usually did, then he followed.

*

It all looks the same, Robert thought as he stared out the window of his bedroom. He could hear the tap tap tap in the kitchens below. He had been hearing it since he'd set foot inside.

Everything had been cleaned of dust, clothes and spare sheets and pillows neatly packed away, and the air smelled of the fresh wildflowers and roses sitting on the mantelpiece. Robert hated it.