“He quiets if I take him outside,” Ewan said. “Tell the staff not to be alarmed if I’m in the garden later.”
Nicholas couldn’t quite imagine Ewan walking about the garden with a small infant, but then he would not have imagined himself inviting a dozen men and their wives and servants for a house party and enjoying himself.
His valet helped him to undress, and though it was late, Nicholas couldn’t stop himself from putting his ear to the door adjoining his chamber with Amelia’s and listening. It was quiet, and he cracked the door open and peered inside. He could just make out the figure under the covers on the bed. She didn’t move when he entered, and though he wanted her, he didn’t want to wake her. Funny how he had not even known her a month before, and now he’d spent most of the day imagining when they could be alone together.
Did that mean he was in love with her? How was he supposed to know? He’d grown up among people who had married for position and wealth. No one had ever spoken of love. Even his brothers and sister hadn’t married for love. They married because their partner had been deemed a good match. Most couples he had known had no interest in sharing a bed or much else after the first few months of marriage.
Clearly, that was not the case with the Survivors. All ten who were present seemed completely in love with their wives. Rafe certainly hadn’t married the daughter of a French assassin because it was a good match. His love for her had forced him to flee to America. Phineas had made a poor match in the eyes of the ton as well. His wife was several years older than he and had a scandalous reputation. He didn’t seem to care a whit. Duncan had all but kidnapped his wife, who was Draven’s sister-in-law, and Draven had pursued him with every intent to punish him. Even Colin, who had been one of the few Survivors married during the war, had fallen in love with his wife after returning. And then of course, there were the unlikely pairings of Rowden, who was a pugilist, and his wife, who protested blood sports. Not to mention the large, silent Ewan who had married Lady Lorraine, who could probably hold a conversation with a plant.
Nicholas moved toward the bed and leaned down to kiss Amelia’s cheek. She didn’t stir, and he returned to his chamber, closing the door between them. He climbed into bed and lay awake. When the baby began to wail, he glanced at the clock and saw it was quarter after three. Rafe had told Nicholas he’d wanted this party to say good-bye to his friends, since he wouldn’t be able to return for several years, if ever. Nicholas had known that was not the whole reason. Rafe and Florentia, and probably even Amelia, had thought it would be good for Nicholas as well.
Nicholas had to admit that they were right. Why had he avoided seeing these men? Why hadn’t he gone to the Draven Club more? He’d avoided London because he didn’t want his former friends and acquaintances to see him and pity him. Here at Battle’s Peak, he was far away from any who might pity him, but he was also isolated and lonely—less lonely now that Amelia was here, but even with her, he had made attempts to distance himself.
A change was needed. He’d lease a town house in London to use for a few weeks throughout the year. Though travel was painful and difficult for him, he’d plan a trip to Scotland to see Duncan and the wild land he’d heard so much about but never laid eyes on. He’d take Amelia, once her mother recovered. Amelia hadn’t been outside of Hungerford more than a handful of times. They could see the world together.
And one day he would trust her enough to show her his scars. One day he might be able to believe that she cared enough not to leave him when she saw them.
THE NEXT MORNING, NICHOLAS, Rowden, and Neil had just finished breakfast when they heard the wheels of an approaching coach. Rowden went to the window and said what they all suspected: “Nash and Stratford are here.”
Nicholas took longer to make it outside, and by the time he did, Rafe and Ewan had joined them. Stratford Fortescue climbed out of the coach first, gave everyone a wide grin, then helped his wife Emmeline, a curvaceous brunette, out as well. They were greeted warmly, with Stratford asking where Duncan was and his wife asking after Mrs. Draven, and then Nash Pope climbed out.
“What the devil?” Rowden said as soon as he saw him. “Look at you!” He embraced Nash, who seemed to tolerate it, and then practically pulled Mrs. Pope out of the coach. Prudence Pope was tall and freckled and said something right away that made Rowden laugh. Nicholas moved forward to shake Nash’s hand and saw what Rowden had been exclaiming about. Everyone had said how gaunt and ill Nash had looked when they’d last seen him. But he was the picture of health now. His black hair had been carefully styled to hide the injury to his left eye, but if Nicholas hadn’t known he had very little sight, he would not have guessed. Nash had a healthy color and he greeted Nicholas warmly, which was rather unusual for the sharpshooter as he’d always been somewhat detached and aloof.
But Nicholas realized he had always been more of a loner as well. Until recently.
It wasn’t long before Jasper appeared, and then all of the wives came out, and Nash and Stratford were shepherded inside to break their fast. Nicholas tried to catch Amelia’s eye, but she was playing the good hostess and seeing to everyone’s needs. Finally, the guests from the inn and Catmint Cottage arrived, and the crowd moved to the garden with the promise of a picnic luncheon in a few hours. Nicholas stayed in the foyer and caught Amelia as she tied on a bonnet and started for the door.
“Good morning, my lord,” she said with a smile.
“Where are you off to?” he demanded.
“I promised Master Richard I would give him a tour of the stable and let him pet Sweetie. Lady Jasper is waiting for me with him just outside.”
Nicholas glanced where she pointed and saw Jasper, his wife, and adopted son out on the front lawn.
“I won’t keep you then,” he said, his voice gruffer than he’d intended. But he’d wanted a moment alone with her.
“Is anything amiss?” she asked.
“No.” And he walked away to join the others in the garden. It didn’t take him long to realize he and Rafe were the only ones who were without their wives. Florentia had set up easels about the garden as well as paints and some of the ladies were attempting to play artist. Nicholas couldn’t quite stop himself from glancing toward the stables.
“She will come back, you know,” Rafe said after Nicholas had to ask him to repeat himself for the third time.
“Who?”
Rafe gave him a knowing look. “I really had no idea you were so smitten with her.”
Nicholas made a dismissive sound. “We just married. I hardly know her.”
Rafe shrugged. “Sometimes it doesn’t take long.”
“Keep your sentimentality to yourself.” And he refused to look toward the stable for the rest of the morning.
The picnic had been a success, and then they’d all returned to the lawn for games. Nicholas watched as Amelia floated from group to group, checking on each guest and making sure he or she was doing well. She seemed intimidated to approach Duncan Murray, but once his wife, Ines, joined the conversation, Amelia relaxed. Soon Emmeline Fortescue and her husband, Stratford, were telling Amelia a story, which had her laughing so hard she bent over. Later he caught her speaking with Prudence Pope, Nash’s wife, and Modesty Payne. Amelia seemed to convince Mrs. Pope to tell stories about her life traveling with her missionary parents, while Mrs. Payne, who had been raised by strict Methodists, listened intently. Amelia left the two of them laughing before stopping to speak with Nash and Jasper.