Fiona knew he was about to say that they might have been able to reduce Rudolph’s sentence or even get him acquitted. She shook her head, and Roche nodded gravely. “We can’t, Lord Giles,” Fiona said. “The intent behind his actions is irrelevant.”
Roche gave Rudolph a sympathetic look. “Besides, had Gordon’s scheme been successful, things would have turned out much worse. I’d wager Gordon only released the boy because his fraud was exposed. Am I right?”
“Well, answer me this, Mr. Roche,” Dennis cut in. “What if Miss Fiona hadn’t discovered they were counterfeit?”
“You know as well as I do what lows that sort of criminal would stoop to, Dennis. While they carried out their scheme, they would have kept him confined in anticipation of the unexpected, and once their scheme was complete, they would’ve silenced him,” Roche said matter-of-factly. “Yes, exactly what you’re thinking.” He made a slicing gesture at his neck.
Dennis was in the military for a long time, but with no large wars being waged at present, his primary duties involved border patrol and reconnaissance. He had virtually no direct combat experience, and he perceived children as targets to protect, not as threats. The idea that Gordon would first force Rudolph to be his partner in crime, then throw him to the wolves when he was finished with him… That made Dennis even more furious than Rudolph.
“I truly am grateful that things didn’t turn out the way Mr. Roche described,” Fiona said quietly. “But the grim truth is that you won’t be able to work as an art restorer. Nobody will ever forget that you painted those counterfeits, nor will they forgive you for it.”
Little teardrops fell quietly on Rudolph’s fists, which were clenched in his lap. “Well, yeah… I know that.”
“Rudy…” Dennis softly rested his hand on Rudolph’s head, and Rudolph’s tears began to flow freely.
To clear the heavy feeling in the air, Fiona turned cheerful and said, “That’s why I have a proposal for you, Rudolph. Would you like to live on Clayburn land?”
Rudolph looked up, baffled by the unexpected proposal. “Huh?” Through his blurred vision, he saw Fiona smiling at him.
“We have a skilled craftsman on our land. His name is Stanley, and he owns and operates a tiny clock workshop by himself.”
“Clocks?”
“He’s a stubborn, obstinate, tough-looking genius. You might find that he’s a lot like your late mentor.”
Fiona gave him an airy look, as if to say, “Watch after him just like you watched over your old master, won’t you, please?” Rudolph stared intently at her. He was no longer crying.
He could have produced perfect counterfeits, but he had chosen not to. He had walked a tightrope, resisting Gordon, the man who decided whether he lived or died, as much as he dared. This was a testament to Rudolph’s pride as a craftsman, and that pride had inspired Fiona to make her proposal.
“It’s not the same as art restoration, but you can make great use of your deft attention to detail.”
“Well, I…yeah. I ain’t mad about that.” Rudolph affirmed that delicate handiwork was what he truly enjoyed, and shared that he had repaired lamps and the broken chains on an easel himself.
Fiona smiled in relief. “The thing about Stanley is that he’s surly but not mean-spirited. And you’ll work with some very fine merchandise, so you’re sure to develop a keen eye.”
“Yeah. That sounds fun, I guess.” Rudolph firmly wiped his tears away with his sleeve, the light returning to his eyes. He would have to begin his training from square one, but the dark future that had seemed to lie ahead of him ever since Gordon took him in was gone. For the first time in ages, he saw a ray of light on the horizon.
Fiona smiled softly. “You won’t be able to restore art anymore, but someday…I don’t know how many years in the future…if you ever feel like painting for yourself…”
If you ever want to paint, not as a restorer of other people’s art but for your own sake…
“…then you have a place here.”
“Here?” He looked up at Fiona, seeking confirmation.
Roche answered him for her. “In this gallery. Just so you know, assessments and negotiations are no joke, so make sure all those gears and screws don’t make you rusty.”
“A clockmaker who can paint,” Fiona said merrily. “That sounds lovely.”
As he watched her and Roche happily discuss the matter, Rudolph thought he just might see a glimpse of a future in which he held a paintbrush. He would work on clocks in the workshop with his gruff master by day and spend the occasional evening with a canvas.
But even as that cheery vision unfolded in his mind, he shook his head vigorously. “D-don’t be stupid. Why’re you goin’ so far for a kid like me? I ain’t nothin’ to you lot.”
“Let me see… Let’s just call this a rotten grown-up’s atonement for getting you caught up in their mess,” Roche said, evoking the words Rudolph had yelled the day he was caught in the alley.
Fiona nodded. “Yes, we don’t want you thinking all grown-ups are like Gordon.”
“I don’t, you idiot. I’d never, ever put you in the same camp as that bastard.”
At last, a winning smile twinkled in Rudolph’s eye. The atmosphere in the room now peaceful, Hans nodded in satisfaction.
“Your monthly interviews will take place at the Clayburn mansion, with myself and my father,” Fiona said. “As for your written reports, we’ll have you write Dennis a weekly letter. You can write anything you like, as long as you include what you’re currently up to.”
“Huh? Why him?”
“Unless you’d rather write polite, proper letters to a caseworker you’ve never met?”
“Fine. I’ll settle for Dennis.”
“Hey! A bit cocky, aren’t we?”
“Argh! Ge-gerrof!”
As Dennis tousled Rudolph’s hair wildly with both hands, he blushed and attempted to flee from the sofa. Merry laughter echoed through the room. Sensing a pair of eyes on her, Fiona looked up and met Giles’s gaze.
“Glad everything turned out well,” he said.