Josiah jumped, eyes widening.
“If not,” his father continued, “there’s that one behind you.” He gestured over Josiah’s shoulder at Miss Darlington. “Her hips aren’t as wide, but she has money, too, and the heiress is likely too good for you now that you’ve lowered yourself with working like a common—”
“Enough.” Xavier’s single word command echoed off the walls. “Isn’t there someone waiting for you in the village, Father?”
Lord Westgrove snorted, gave Josiah one last look. “Let me know if you need help making a decision. Your mother had hips enough for six children, five of them boys, and she had the good sense to shove off to the afterlife before old age could bother her much. I know how to pick ‘em.”
“Bloody hell,” Josiah hissed, his arms stiff clubs at his side.
But his father didn’t hear. He was whistling and walking out the door.
A collective groan followed his exit, and everyone melted into their seats.
Josiah scrubbed his hands down his face. “And Father is—”
“Not the best role model,” Peter finished. “Yes, yes. I know.”
“Negus, anyone?” Sarah asked. “And charades, perhaps? I’ll see if Edith and Griffin are back from their walk. They might wish to play.”
Georgiana took her cup and left the group as Sarah left to find Lord and Lady Hartfield. She returned to her chair near the window and held the cup beneath her chin, letting the steam warm her as the outside chill pressing into the glass did its best to freeze her.
“Come closer to the fire, Lady Gee.” Josiah had followed her.
“No thank you. That was enough participation for now. I’ve made merry and am quite exhausted from it. Besides, it’s too warm over there.” Her entire body was a furnace.
He sat in the chair he’d sat in earlier. “You’re foxed is what you are.”
“A bit. Not too much though. Just enough for my mind to have become like molasses. My limbs, too.”
Stillness took him. And with his elbows braced on his knees, and his hands clasped together, he looked like a statue of grave cogitation. Finally, his mouth broke the illusion. “I apologize for my father. He’s—”
“Like every other man, I suppose. I know them. Him. I am not shocked.”
“You should be. I… I acted like him for years. I’m not proud of it. I knew it was… not quite right. I wanted to please him, though, show him I was worth something.”
She startled and snapped her head to face him. “Youareworth something.”
“Not to his way of thinking. Third son who did not go into the military as he’d been destined to.” He gave the slightest shrug as if to throw off the ghost of a red uniform. “I didn’t want to fight. I wanted to be here. My mother was sick. Dying. She didn’t ask me to stay, but I wanted to anyway. For her. For myself. I knew she was dying somehow. Didn’t want to go off and die myself. What good would that do? But my father thought that meant I was weak, that my mother had somehow ruined me, made me cling to her skirts.”
“Your mother died?” She knew the answer, of course, but she was a prodding for more information.
He nodded. “Seven or so years ago now. I was young. I was supposed to go to school.” His gaze had grown distant. “But I knew if I did, I’d never see her again. The pregnancy had not been easy on her. I begged to stay. Father railed at me. I left. And”—his shoulders slumped—“I was right. I returned for her funeral. Their funeral. The babe died, too. A little girl.”
She reached for him, her hand moving on a wave of warm wine to his bare forearm and resting there, wrapping gentle fingers round. “Josiah, I’m—”
“It’s fine. No need for apologies or condolences. When Xavier began to take the load of the estate work from Father, I saw my chance to prove that a man who cares for his family’s home, for his family’s holdings, is not weak. Wanting to comfort a dying loved one is not a fault.”
She nodded and squeezed his arm.
He hung his head. “I’ve done much here since I convinced Xav to reassign the previous steward. Fixed the staircase and modernized some of our farming methods. Improved our bookkeeping. Mother would approve, I think. Father doesn’t notice. Not that he’s noticed anything regarding the estate for some time now.”
Her brows collided. “You did all that?”
“I’d like to do more. Add a shower. Have you seen them? Fascinating things. Healthful, even. Not as fun as a bath in a tub by the fire though.” He lifted his head slowly and winked.
Her heart stuttered.
“Much more leisurely, too.” The way he looked at her… his gaze like a touch, a caress along her bare neck, fingers spearing into her hair… she could barely breathe.
