nothing would do but that I agree that we leave London no later than eight o’clock this morning. I must have been mad.”
At two and thirty, Robert was the heir and the eldest of Sir Edward’s three sons. He resembled his father to a fair degree—tall and rangy, the same color eyes and the same stubborn chin and hard-edged jaw. His tawny hair, Robert thanked providence frequently, he had inherited from his mother, grateful that it was still thick and there.
Normally, Robert would not have been staying at the family townhouse. His own rooms were on Jermyn Street but, having closed up the place when he had left for Meadowlea in July, only the necessity of driving home the new high-perch phaeton he had ordered from the London carriage builder had brought him back to town. His brother Andrew had offered to drive the new vehicle home for him, but Robert would have none of it. As he had told his father when he had arrived on Thursday, “I appreciated his offer, don’t think I didn’t, but I’d as lief let a blind man drive it home as that jingled-brained brother of mine. Drew would be ditched before he had driven ten miles.” Sir Edward privately agreed. Drew was known to be reckless.
Casting a glance at his sister as he tackled his breakfast, Robert asked, “Did he tell you about this horse he is so set on buying?”
Nell nodded as she took a sip of her coffee. “Indeed he did. I have been having its praises sung in my ear this past fortnight.”
“Do you think there is any chance the animal has even half the potential that Drew claims?”
She shook her head, a twinkle leaping to her eyes. “I saw the creature the first day the owner brought him to town. The stallion is a lovely bay and beautiful to look at, but has no substance or stamina—the usual pretty face that always takes Drew’s eye.”
Robert groaned. “Oh, lud, I knew it would be the case. I’d hoped that he had learned his lesson from that last bonesetter he bought.”
“Give the boy credit,” Sir Edward muttered. “He can’t help it if he doesn’t have the eye for horses that you and Nell have.”
“Boy?” Nell burst out laughing. “Papa, have you forgotten that both Andrew and Henry are thirty years old? Neither one of them is a ‘boy’ any longer.”
The subjects of the conversation entered the room just then and it was obvious at a glance that they were twins; Andrew a mere half inch taller and ten minutes older than his brother, Henry. Few people, except those who knew them well, could tell them apart, both having the same aquiline nose and firm jaw and their mother’s golden-brown eyes and tawny hair. Shorter than Robert, they stood just over six feet, but had the same slim build as the rest of the family.
Andrew, a major in the cavalry, was serving with Colonel Arthur Wellesley in India. Having been severely wounded during the last days of the war against the Mahrattas, he had been in England for several months recovering. He was due to rejoin Wellesley just after the first of the year. Henry, too, was a major, but being less dashing than his twin had elected to serve in an infantry regiment. He had seen his share of battle in Europe, but to his chagrin, he was presently assigned to the Horse Guards in London. Only the resumption of the war with Napoleon the previous year gave him hope that he would soon leave his desk duties behind and once again be in the thick of things on the continent.
“Ah ha,” Andrew remarked, a grin slashing across his face, “you are awake. I had a small wager with Henry that we would have to wake you.”
“You lose,” Robert said, as he pushed away from the table and rose to his feet. “I am ready. Let us go view this incredible horse you have found.”
Over Andrew’s shoulder, Henry made a face and shook his head. “Waste of time,” he mouthed silently to Robert.
Robert shrugged and turning away, took his leave from Sir Edward and Nell. The room was quiet for a moment after the three men had left.
“And what,” Sir Edward asked, “do you plan to do today, my dear?”
“Nothing as exciting as buying a horse,” Nell replied with a smile. “If we are to leave on Monday as planned, I must make final plans with Mrs. Fields and Chatham. Are you going to leave a few servants here? Or is everyone coming to Meadowlea with us?”
“I can think of no good reason to leave anyone behind, can you?”
“Housebreakers?”
Sir Edward shook his head. “We will take all the silver and plate with us, and except for the furniture there will be little else to steal.”
The twinkle in her eye became pronounced. “The wine cellar?”
He smiled. “Secured behind a stout door and barred and locked. Chatham assures me that my wines will be safe.”
“Very well then, I shall get busy,” she said, rising to her feet. “Far be it for me to argue with Chatham.”
As she passed her father, he reached out and caught one of her hands. Surprised, she glanced at him. “What is it?”
Quietly he asked, “Have you enjoyed yourself, Nell? I know this is the first time you have come with me to London in many years. Has it been very bad?” His expression troubled, he added, “Was it difficult seeing Bethune and that wife of his?”
“Bethune?” she inquired in astonishment. “Oh, Papa, I got over him a long time ago—it has been ten years, after all.” Seeing that he was not quite convinced, she kissed his head and murmured, “Papa, it is all right. My heart is not broken, even if I thought it was once upon a time.” She grinned. “And as for that wife of his—he got precisely what he deserved. He should not have been so quick to throw me over.”
“If I had not been so quick to offer him his freedom, then instead of locking yourself away in the country and acting as my hostess, you would have been a duchess, a leader of society,” he said, watching her carefully.
Nell wrinkled her nose. “And utterly bored and miserable. I am glad you offered him his freedom—and that he took it. If he cared so little for me that he could so quickly rid himself of me, I am much better without him.” She patted his arm. “Papa, I have told you time and again, I am very happy with my life. I like the country. I know that I could come with you to London whenever I want—I chose to stay at Meadowlea.” When he would have protested, she put a finger against his lips. “And, no, I do not stay there because I fear running into Bethune and his wife, or anybody else, for that matter.” Her face softened. “It happened a decade ago, I am sure that few people even remember that I was engaged to him. I do not repine over it and you should not, either.” She grinned at him. “Unless of course it is you who hungers for a great title for your daughter.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! You know that my first concern is for you to be happy. A title be damned.” He looked wistful. “Although I will confess that I was proud of the grand match you had made. But title or no, I would like to see all of my children married and with their own families.” He sighed. “I will be honest, Nell, it baffles me that none of you has married. Robert is my heir—he should be married and have a quiver full of children by now. I would like to dandle a grandchild or two on my knee before I die. As for the twins…I would have thought by now that at least one of them would have married.”
Nell could think of nothing to say. Her own spinsterhood she took for granted. In the beginning, she had realized that even with her fortune, there were few men who wanted a crippled wife. It didn’t matter these days that her limp was nowhere
