“Aunt Artemis.”
She turned at the sound of Oliver’s voice. The boy stood beside her, regal and confident and every inch his father’s child. “Yes, dear?”
“When will Uncle Charming be back?”
“‘Uncle Charming’?” Daria repeated, her eyes dancing.
“Miss Caroline Jonquil called him that for ages. Oliver learned of it and adopted it himself.”
Oliver stood in patient anticipation of an answer. She knew better than to disappoint him. He was not one to throw fits or grow petulant, but his heart broke more easily than he preferred to let on, and she didn’t wish to cause him any sorrow.
“He should return any moment.” She pulled the curtain back to show Oliver where to watch for the carriage only to discover that her husband was, even then, alighting in front of the house.
She slipped back from the window and weaved through the crowd gathered there. The entire Jonquil and Lancaster families were present, all wanting to support Charlie on his day of, she hoped, triumph.
They teased her as she passed. She didn’t care. Charlie was back, and she meant to be the first to welcome him home.
She reached the entryway as Charlie, Adam, and Mr. Barrington stepped inside. All her attention was on her husband. She, Rose, and Wilson had carefully selected his emerald-green waistcoat and perfectly cut jacket. Wilson had pushed aside Charlie’s own valet, recently hired, to undertake the tying of Charlie’s cravat himself. Charlie had left impressive and ready to prove his worth to his peers through the paper he’d worked tirelessly on. But had he returned triumphant?
“How was your lecture received?” She held her breath.
“Well, I think.”
She looked to Adam. “Please free my husband from the chains of his own modesty.”
“The lecture was excellent,” Adam said, no frills or exaggeration in his tone. “We will not need to disavow him after all.”
Having been divested of his outercoat, Adam made directly for the drawing room, no doubt guessing that was where Persephone would be. As he passed, though, he leaned closer to Artemis and said quietly, “He was brilliant.”
A footman had likewise taken Mr. Barrington’s coat. Artemis looked to him, not because she doubted Adam’s assessment but because she wanted Charlie to hear further praise of his abilities and efforts. He deserved to know that he was remarkable.
“Everyone in attendance was impressed,” Mr. Barrington said. “I suspect he’ll have ample opportunities to discuss his theories whenever he is in London.”
Artemis looked to Charlie. “Have you been accepted for membership?”
He nodded. “I am decidedly the best thing that has ever happened to the Royal Society.”
He had grown quite adept at theatrics over the past few months. His performances delighted her. He was quite funny and quick to tease her into laughter without ever being mocking or belittling.
“The whole family is here,” she told him.
“Whose family?” He handed his folio of papers to the footman who had taken his coat.
“Ourfamily,” she said. “All of them. Including Newton and Toss, all the Huntresses, except Lisette, the Gents and those of their wives who are still with us, your mother, brothers, their families, my siblings, their families.”
“All of them? At the same time?”
She nodded. “It is, as your father so eloquently put it in his last letter to all of you, ‘a wonderful bit of chaos.’ And they are all anxious to see you and hear about your lecture.”
“I doubt most of them have the least interest in Euclidean geometry.”
Artemis took his hand. “But they have a tremendous interest inyou.”
“Even the Huntresses?” he asked with a doubtful laugh.
“I have declared you my Orion. They will accept you as one of their own now.”
He tucked her up to his side, still smiling, still clearly amused. “Didn’t Artemis shoot Orion?”
