Lord Sebastian's Secret (The Duke's Sons #3)(88)

“Please call me Adele. We are to be family, are we not?”

“And I am Charlotte,” answered the marchioness. “Drustan! He is such a little rogue.”

“That would seem to describe him,” said Sebastian’s mother.

He knew that tone, Sebastian thought. Mama was amused and appalled and kindly determined to be polite. He kept his eyes off the floor. He did not wish to know what Drustan was doing. He was sure he wouldn’t like it. Fingering the tattered cloth in his pocket, Sebastian edged closer to his mother.

“Of course, the Normans didn’t have an easy time of it in this part of the country,” the marquess was saying to the duke.

“My Norman ancestor married a Saxon lady,” Sebastian’s father replied.

You could not catch Papa out, Sebastian thought admiringly. It was simply an impossibility, like a thrown pebble falling up.

“Is that so?”

“She’d lost her husband at the Battle of Hastings. She had a large manor at Langford, which…riveted his interest.”

“I knew the boy couldn’t be a damned Welshman.”

Or perhaps you could, Sebastian amended, as his father said, “I beg your pardon?” But then Georgina’s father had special talents.

“I shall take you out to see Offa’s Dyke once we get this knot tied for the children,” the latter said.

As the duke professed himself pleased, Sebastian saw that Hilda and Emma had cornered Robert.

“Are you truly a pink of the ton?” Hilda was asking him.

Robert received the question with less than his usual savoir faire. He simply shrugged, then nodded.

“But why do they call you pink?” she added. “I’ve never understood that expression.”

“I don’t know!” Robert snapped, turning away and walking over to stand with Randolph.

Sebastian blinked. It was unlike Robert to be rude.

“Yes, our first grandchild,” his mother said to Georgina’s.

Sebastian turned and followed her gaze to Alan, who stood beside Ariel, holding her hand, at the edge of the group. His youngest brother never cared much for chatter. But Sebastian had never seen him look so contented, and Ariel was radiant.

What a thing it would be, Sebastian thought, to be a father. He looked around, glimpsing what seemed to be a similar thought on Nathaniel’s face. One day they all would be, probably, and there would be a mob of children at gatherings like this. Numbers sprang into his head. If they each had two, that would be a round dozen young Greshams. Three each would be—good God—eighteen undoubtedly lively offspring! That might be worse than the pugs. But no, of course it wouldn’t.

“And I’m sure you hope Violet will follow along soon,” said Georgina’s mother.

“Oh, there’s plenty of time for that,” said the duchess. “No hurry at all.”

Sebastian thought that Violet was listening closely, while pretending not to be.

“I’ll never forget how your mother watched me after we were married, like a hawk ready to swoop down on a pigeon,” said his mother to his father.

The duke laughed. “She did rather.”

“Rather? She bribed my maid to… Never mind.” The duchess made one of her subtle moves, a mere gesture toward the stairs. And somehow the dynamics of the group shifted. Sebastian had seen her stop budding ballroom quarrels in their tracks and herd a crowd of partygoers more efficiently than a sheepdog. It was a kind of magic.

“Let me show you your room,” said Georgina’s mother in response. “You’ll want to rest after your long drive.”

“I heard you speak at Oxford,” Edgar Stane said to Alan as the group moved. “It was astonishing.”

Sebastian enjoyed Alan’s smile. He had sometimes wondered how his youngest brother felt about the family’s general inability to understand his work.

*

Everything was going more smoothly than she’d hoped, Georgina thought at dinner that evening. It seemed her fears had been groundless. Of course, the duke and duchess practically defined politeness. But His Grace actually seemed to be enjoying a discussion of dog breeding, though she was certain he had no interest in pugs. And the duchess was obviously charming her father.

Violet was talking with Mr. Mitra about India. From what Georgina could hear, she was balancing questions and travelers’ tales in graceful proportion. The exchange seemed quite cordial, and it struck Georgina that Violet might rival the current duchess someday. She had blossomed amazingly in the months since her marriage. Georgina felt a little glow at the idea of such possibilities.

Across the table, however, things were not going quite so well. Perhaps they shouldn’t have seated Robert next to Hilda. It had been a treat for her, and Georgina hadn’t thought Robert would mind. He was looking surprisingly sullen, however, under the onslaught of her chatter. Quite unlike the darling of the ton that Georgina knew. In fact, she suddenly glimpsed a resemblance to Randolph that she wouldn’t have predicted in this Gresham brother.

The latter was deep in conversation with Ariel. Georgina hadn’t been aware that they were acquainted, and she wondered what they were finding to engross them so. Further down the table, Nathaniel was being kind to Emma. It was gratifying to see her sister beam under his gentle inquiries. The viscount was also managing Joanna Byngham on his other side with impressive dexterity. Georgina had caught him giving the governess perfectly blank looks once or twice, but he’d responded to her with grave courtesy. Nathaniel was, as she’d heard Sebastian say, a complete hand.