“I have yet to meet the boy. I will be his brother-in-law in three days’ time.”
Three days. The reminder of their upcoming wedding made her stomach flutter in anxiety. She knew the date, of course. Ian had previously written to advise her that he’d obtained a special license and reserved the church. Looking at him in the bright afternoon sunlight, she still couldn’t fathom that he would be her husband. It sounded so strange, so foreign.
“It’s kind of you to think of Adam, but his Latin tutor is scheduled to arrive later this afternoon.”
“Cancel the tutor. Tell the boy it’s a surprise.”
No doubt Adam would be thrilled to miss his lesson. What eight-year-old boy enjoyed Latin?
“Hurry, Grace. My sisters wait in the carriage.”
His words sent a sliver of alarm through her. “Oh! Why didn’t you say so? Give me a moment to pen a message to the tutor and fetch Adam.” She hurried up the stairs and entered her brother’s room. Just as she’d suspected, Adam was more than happy to oblige, and fifteen minutes later, brother and sister joined Ian in the vestibule.
Grace made the introductions. “Adam, this is Lord Castleton.”
Adam gave a quick bow. “Hello, my lord.”
Ian knelt down until he was eye-level with the boy. “Hello, Adam. Please call me Ian.” He shook the boy’s hand.
Adam openly studied Ian. “You’re to marry my sister?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Ian gave a lopsided grin. “Because I like her.” He glanced up at Grace and winked. “And she likes me.”
Grace pursed her lips. The man’s arrogance was beyond bounds. Adam, on the other hand, nodded as if the simple explanation made perfect sense.
“I’ve always wanted a brother,” Adam said.
“How about more sisters?”
Adam wrinkled his nose. “I already have one.”
Ian chuckled. “I have two. Ellie and Olivia are in the carriage. They are waiting for us. Did Grace mention our destination is a surprise?”
Adam’s face lit. “She did.” Clearly the distasteful notion of having more sisters was pushed aside by the mention of a surprise.
“Do you like ices or ice cream?”
“Both!”
“Gunter’s is the best confectioner in London.”
“Gunter’s!” Adam all but flew out of the house and into the drive where Ian’s carriage waited.
Grace smiled at Adam’s enthusiasm. “How did you know what my brother would like?”
“What boy doesn’t like sweets?” Ian held out his arm. “Shall we?”
He was certainly charming and likeable when he put forth the slightest effort. He escorted them both outside where a shining black carriage, and two matching bays waited. The conveyance was just as luxurious as the one that had transported her to Ian’s home in the middle of the night, only this carriage had the crest of the earldom emblazoned on its lacquered side.
The driver lowered the step and Grace ascended and settled on a padded bench.
Adam and the two girls were already inside.
“Hello, Miss Ashton,” the girls said in unison.
Grace recognized the redhead as Ellie and the delicate blonde as Olivia. “It’s lovely to see you both again.” She didn’t know what Ian had told them about their hasty upcoming nuptials.
“We were surprised to hear about your engagement to our brother,” Olivia said.
“Olivia,” Ian said, a note of warning in his voice. “We spoke about this.”
“What Olivia means,” Ellie said, “is that we were surprised to hear the news, but we are happy our brother has chosen you.”
The carriage set off at a brisk pace, and Grace smoothed her skirts. “I realize you must have questions.” Grace glanced at her young brother who was gazing avidly out the window. “Adam, you must have questions, too.”
Adam shrugged. “Do you think Gunter’s has pistachio ice cream?”
Well, that answered the question about an eight-year-old boy’s curiosity. Grace turned to the sisters. “You must be curious?”
“No longer. We are relieved it is you and not one of the stage actresses Ian had been involved with in the past,” Olivia said.
“Olivia,” Ian said in a near shout this time.
Grace smiled; she couldn’t help herself. The girls were refreshingly honest.
A short while later, the carriage came to a stop at 7 Berkley Square in the West End of London. Grace looked out the carriage window to see a charming storefront. A sign that read Gunter’s and bore the image of a pineapple hung over the door. As she watched, a waiter burst from the shop. He was carrying a tray of ice cream, and he dodged around hackneys and a brewer’s cart to take it to a carriage parked on the opposite side of the street.
“Can we eat inside?” Adam asked as he stared wide-eyed into the confectioner’s bay window.
“I wouldn’t dream of denying a boy,” Ian said, then leaned close to Adam. “Pistachio is my favorite, too.”
Adam cracked a wide grin, then reached for the carriage handle and hopped out. Ian stepped out after the boy and helped his sisters to descend, then took Grace’s hand.
“He reminds me of myself as a boy,” Ian said.
“Were you trouble?”
“I climbed every tree on our country estate, no matter how high. I also liked to play pranks on my siblings. I gave my nursemaid gray hair.”
She pictured him as a mischievous boy and burst out laughing.
Ian paused. “I like the sound of your laughter. I haven’t heard it enough.”
A sensual light passed between them, arousing and intimate at once, and her heart thumped uncomfortably. She dropped her gaze. It was too easy to get lost in the way he looked at her.
Ian opened the door to the confectioner’s shop, and the little bell chimed as they entered. Adam stared at the array of treats on display in the open cases—Italian wet and dry sweetmeats, marshmallow, creams, sugar plums, pastries, ices, and numerous ice cream flavors including pistachio, orange, lemon, and even jasmine and elderflower. It was an irresistible buffet for a boy.
“Can I have more than one serving?” Adam asked.
Ian grinned. “You can have as many as you can eat.”
Adam hopped from one foot to the other in a dance of boyish excitement. Grace watched, amazed. Adam hadn’t been this carefree or happy in a while, and guilt pierced her breast. Over the course of the past months, he’d had trouble sleeping. Had he instinctively sensed Grace’s anxiety over the baron’s gambling and her worries over money?
Her guilt mounted. Had she been so consumed with their imminent future that she’d neglected Adam’s immediate needs? She’d never brought Adam to Gunter’s. It was a luxury, but at the look of rapt adoration on Adam’s face she experienced a pang of regret.
Ian leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Do not think of the past. Once we are wed, we can bring Adam here every week. He’ll soon tire of pistachio.”
She tore her gaze away from the display cases to look up at him. How could he possibly know her thoughts? And more importantly, how could he be so kind toward a young boy he’d just met?
The confectioner approached, and Ellie and Olivia ordered lemon ices and Grace ordered orange. Adam and Ian remained at the counter after Ian had encouraged Adam to sample several flavors to decide which he’d like to accompany his pistachio.