The Legend of the Earl (Heirs of High Society) (A Regency Romance Book)(2)

Rose leaned away, her shoulders hunched after being properly chastened.

Then Nash’s eyes turned to Alex, hard. “We’re here because England has decided to honor a very special woman who helped the poor, took in the needy, and on one special occasion saved the king’s life. This is her commemoration. We are fortunate to have been given seats at all, considering we’re a pack of orphans.”

Alex opened her mouth to speak, but at seeing the flicker of heat in Nash’s gaze she shut her mouth once more.

Nash went on, “You’re deflecting your feelings, Alex. You’re not upset that there are so many people here that didn’t know Ms. Best, and you’re not angry that they placed us in the last row.”

Actually, Alex was quite vexed about the former.

Nash’s expression changed as though he could read her mind. In a blink, Alex corrected her own expression so that it was blank.

Nash continued, “You’re upset because Ms. Best is gone, and her commemoration reminds you of that, but she’s been gone for twenty years, Alex. Let it be.” Then he turned away.

Alex said quickly. “Well, I still say we should get the Smiths back together and have dinner.”

“Me, too,” Rose whispered with a giggle.

Nash shook his head. “If I agree, will you be silent?”

“Yes.” Alex smiled. “And you have to get Chris to come as well.”

Nash moved his mouth in thought then nodded. “If he is here, I will ask. Now be silent.”

Alex clung to her silence through the rest of the commemoration and admitted that it was, indeed, a beautiful ceremony.



* * *



“No, we can’t start yet. We have to wait,” Alex said for the third time as she looked around at the assembled group. So far, only Rose, Alicia Best, Mary Francis Best, and Nash had appeared, but one seat was empty.

The dining room was large and shared with the kitchen to accommodate the many hungry and youthful mouths that were fed meals here. Alex recalled how dark the walls had once been. In recent years, the walls had been painted a light color, and art from the children took up much of the wall space. There was nothing grand about Best Home, yet Alex couldn’t recall a place where she’d ever felt warmer and more at home.

There were three Best Homes in the city. The current home, which was the one Alex had grown up in, was in Paddington on the edge of Hyde Park, and the closest home to Mayfair. Alex lived in the same area, visiting the orphanage every so often and walking to and from the shop on Bond Street where she worked.

The table had been set beautifully, but it was nowhere near the style that the wealthy were used to. The plates and cups were clean but not porcelain or glass. Still, the metal shined brilliantly with the glow of the candles that had been scattered about.

“Alex.” Mary Francis lifted her chin, though it shook slightly from age. “You will not make me wait another second for those boys. I only agreed to come because I heard you were cooking.” Her brown eyes settled on Alex sternly. “I have starved long enough in my lifetime.”

Alex smiled. “And exactly how old are you again, Ms. Best?”

The woman’s mouth shut tightly, and everyone around the table began to laugh. It was a game everyone played with Mary Francis. It had been her little sister, Mary Elizabeth, who’d been commemorated that morning, but no one knew exactly how many years apart the women actually were.

Alicia Best grinned. “Come now, Alex. Do let us eat. The food smells divine.” Alicia’s eyes were blue, unlike her great-aunt’s. Alicia was Mary Elizabeth’s and Mary Francis’ grand-niece and currently saw to the day-to-day business of Best Homes.

Nash reached for the tray cover, and Alex slapped his hand before turning to meet his eyes. “Did you tell them to come?”

“I did,” he said tightly, “but no one can force them to come.”

“Did you see them at the ceremony?” Francis asked. She was the only person at the table who’d been allotted a seat in the first row, which had surprised Alex even though she was Mary Elizabeth’s sister.

Alicia said, “I believe I saw Chris, but I’m not sure. He stood amongst the people in the back.”

“That sounds like Chris,” Nash said. “I’m sure he wouldn’t miss it.”

“As am I,” a deep voice said as he emerged from the dark hall.

The room went silent, and Alex fought back the tears that threatened to slip down her cheeks.

Mary Francis got up her on her cane and took a deep breath. “Come here and let me look at you.”

Reuben’s steps made the floors creak as he made his way to Mary Francis. When he approached, he took her face and kissed her cheek before pulling away.

Alex let her tears fall and then stood with Alicia and Rose to get their own kiss and hugs. The only person who didn’t approach Reuben was Nash.

Alex turned to him and glared. “You knew he was here?”

Nash stood with the women before resuming his seat and grinned. “I believe you suggested we bring the Smiths together, did you not?”

She turned back to the newest person in the room.

Reuben had always been a handsome young boy with dark hair and green eyes, but at the age of thirty and one, he looked even grander in his red coat and high boots. He’d come dressed in his uniform, as though he were eating with the king. Alex hadn’t known he’d made it home at all. After the war with France, he’d been stationed there so long it had seemed unlikely he’d ever return home.