She curtseyed then pressed a hand on Amelia’s arm. “I have family nearby in Hungerford.”
“Really? I have lived here all my life. Who is your family?”
Amelia didn’t know the family well, but she had met them a time or two. “Of course, we must arrange for you to visit tomorrow or the next day.”
“If it’s no trouble, I’d like that,” Mrs. Payne said. “And I want to echo my husband’s well wishes on your marriage. I can already tell you are good for Lord Nicholas.” Her hazel eyes shifted until she spotted Nicholas and nodded in approval.
Amelia wanted to ask why she would say so, but the second coach, which seemed even larger than the first, moved forward. To her surprise, Mr. Beaumont pushed everyone aside and opened the coach door himself. “Let me see him! Little Rafe.”
A sort of growl came from the coach and then everyone stepped back as a blond man stepped out. He straightened and Amelia raised her brows. He was probably the tallest man she had ever seen. He had icy blue eyes, and he looked out over the others as though he had come to conquer them. He made a motion, and everyone stepped back.
Nicholas had moved to Amelia’s side, and she glanced at him in alarm. He smiled. “That’s Ewan Mostyn. He doesn’t talk much.”
“Oh, the one with the baby?”
He nodded. “No doubt that’s why he wants everyone to give his wife a wide berth.”
From inside the coach a woman leaned forward and handed Mr. Mostyn a bundle. It looked tiny in his large arms, but he took it, and then Beaumont was allowed to step forward and extend his hand. Lady Lorraine was a beautiful woman with striking green eyes. She took the hand and allowed Beaumont to assist her down. In contrast to her husband, she was all smiles. She glanced about and Nicholas nudged Amelia forward. Before introductions could even be made, Lady Lorraine grasped Amelia’s hand. “You must be Lady Nicholas. I have been so eager to meet you. And you must be Lord Nicholas,” she said. “I’ve heard a great deal about you. Forgive me for my bad manners.”
“Not at all, my lady,” Amelia said, instantly charmed by her. Beaumont made the introductions and then held out his arms.
“Let me see little Rafe.”
Lady Lorraine gave him a playful swat. “His name is Charles, after my father.”
Beaumont rubbed his arm. “That hurts. I always thought you’d name your firstborn after me.” He nudged Mr. Mostyn, which Amelia thought seemed to be a little like poking a lion. But Lady Lorraine nodded, and her husband placed the baby in Beaumont’s arms. Beaumont, for his part, appeared to have held babies before because he took the infant confidently and pulled the blanket back from his face.
“Thank God he looks like you,” he said to Lady Lorraine, who laughed. And then everyone surged forward to see the baby, and Mrs. Payne and Lady Lorraine embraced and finally Ewan Mostyn took the child back and Florentia came out and led them all inside.
Amelia held back for a few moments, though. She had known she might feel a bit like a misfit as she didn’t know any of the men or women. Living her whole life in the country meant she’d never gone to balls and soirees with the nobility. She’d known Lady Lorraine, the Duchess of Mayne, and Lady Juliana would already be acquainted. And, of course, Mrs. Draven and Mrs. Murray were sisters. She had hoped she might be able to make friends with Mrs. Payne, but it appeared she was already acquainted with Lady Lorraine. Of course, everyone was still arriving. She would have to take time to get to know everyone. Strange that she should feel so nervous. She’d always loved being in company before and made friends easily.
But she’d never been married to the son of a marquess before and expected to host a house party for his friends who hailed from the highest circles. It was all a bit overwhelming.
“I ‘ope I’m not disturbing ye,” said a female voice. Amelia turned and smiled at Jenny Sterling. She remembered Lady Florentia saying that Aidan Sterling had married a woman who had grown up in the rookeries. Judging by the accent, this must be she.
“Of course not, Mrs. Sterling.”
“Call me Jenny. Do ye mind if I join ye for some fresh air?”
“Not at all,” Amelia said as she watched the lads from the stables direct the Sterling coaches away. “You should call me Amelia.”
Jenny held out her hand. “Lovely to meet ye.”
Amelia shook it. “Do you like the countryside?”
“Love it. Aidan’s coach is enormous, but I just need a moment to stretch my legs and breathe.” She took a deep breath.
“Lady Florentia told me you are renowned for your expertise in appraising antique artifacts,” Amelia said.
Jenny raised a brow. “Is that all she told ye?”
“I—”
Jenny smiled. “I thought so. But I don’t mind not being one of ye nobs. I could pass, but why keep pretending?”
“You shouldn’t pretend at all,” Amelia said. “I was actually just feeling out of my element.”
“Stick with me then,” Jenny said, linking arms. “I’m always out of my element.”
Somehow Amelia doubted that. The two finally went inside and Amelia spent the next few hours helping everyone get settled. The Mostyns were staying at Battle’s Peak and had two rooms, one for Lady Lorraine and Ewan Mostyn, and another for the baby and his nurse. They’d put the Dravens and Murrays at Catmint Cottage and Lady Juliana and Neil Wraxall at the inn just a half mile away. Mrs. Blackstock had remarked that since Lady Juliana ran an orphanage, she might appreciate not being wakened by an infant’s cries in the middle of the night.
Beaumont was still in his room, of course, and the Duke and Duchess of Mayne took the room next to his. Amelia worried they might require something grander, but Beaumont had said they wouldn’t care. Rowden and Modesty Payne and the Sterlings were also at the inn, which left a room for Lord Jasper and his family, who hadn’t arrived yet, as well as Nash and Prudence Pope, who no one was certain would actually attend. Mr. Pope was almost blind, and Lady Florentia had thought it would be easier for him to stay at the house and not have to learn the layout of multiple places.
By the time everyone was settled, it was almost dinner, and Amelia had just finished changing when O’Malley returned to tell her another coach had arrived.
She hurried downstairs and was met by Nicholas. She almost stumbled when she saw him. He looked so handsome in his formal attire—a black coat, embroidered silver waistcoat, and an expertly tied cravat. He wore trousers in lieu of breeches, probably because of his injuries, but she liked him in trousers. They made him look tall and lean, and she wanted to run her hands all over him.
He gave her a warning look. “I know that look,” he said. “It will have to wait.”
She tried to pretend she had no idea what he meant, but when they stepped outside to watch the coach pull up the drive she reached back and lightly pinched his bottom.
“Saucy wench,” he teased.
Beaumont had been right about this gathering. She could sense the change in Nicholas already. He was lighter and happier. He seemed to have shed some of the metaphorical weight he carried on his shoulders. She hoped that seeing his old friends, being accepted by them regardless of his injuries, would give him the closure he needed to move beyond the past and the war.