“Paws off my wife,” Alistair growled.
Nick held his hands up in mock surrender. Alistair hauled him in for a bear hug and a hearty slap on the back.
Nick cleared his throat when they separated. “Not well done of us,” he said, tugging his waistcoat back into place. He adopted the most pretentious voice he could muster and cast a sharp glance at Charlie. “Certainly wasn’t behavior expected of a future duchess.”
“Oh, shut it, Nicky.”
He gave her a grin and one-armed hug before relinquishing her to her husband.
“Must say my jaw hit the floor when I received your invite,” Alistair said, possessively wrapping his arm around Charlie. “Wasn’t sure you were even in England, let alone interested in hosting a party.”
“Blame Zach. Whole thing was his idea.” Speaking of, Nick hadn’t seen him yet today.
“Oh,” Charlie said, sounding disappointed. “I thought you might be using the occasion for something. An announcement, perhaps?” She tucked her arm through Alistair’s, and they gave each other such an adoring look Nick thought he might be ill.
“No. Just an excuse for my sisters to spend my money.” Which, to be fair, wasn’t entirely true. Audrey had suggested additions to the housekeeper’s more modest menu and had then provided the fancy provisions in the quantities necessary for such a large gathering. Evelyn and Crandall had brought the canopies. Diana’s husband had sent the pigs yesterday. Bettina and her husband had shared from their apple orchard harvest. “And Zach wanted it. Which is why I don’t understand why he’s not here.”
As if conjured, Nick saw a figure waving to him from the far side of the lawn, and recognized Zach making his way toward the party. Just past the point where Zach had appeared, the garden dropped down to the brook that marked the boundary between Nick’s estate and Zach’s on the other side. Half the size of Langston Hall, Zach had inherited the land from his mother’s side. Nick’s grandparents grew up next door to each other, so to speak, and the wooden footbridge over the brook made visiting easy.
Another carriage rolled up, and Nick was surprised to see the Sinclair crest on the door.
“Oh, good, Tony made it,” Alistair said.
The footman let down the step, and Tony exited. He gave Nick a wave before assisting his wife Sylvia down, then reached in to help out another woman, this one with auburn hair whom Nick had met only once before. With a cheeky grin, Tony held up his hand again, only to have it batted away by his big brother Benjamin, the Earl of Sinclair, who emerged from the carriage last. Sinclair stumbled his first couple of steps on solid ground. The auburn-haired woman linked arms with him, and his gait steadied.
“He’s walking without a cane,” Nick murmured, and found himself smiling.
Charlotte looked at him sharply. “That’s hardly unusual.”
“Surgeons at Waterloo had planned to amputate his right leg.”
“Oh my.”
The two couples headed for the receiving line. Tony and Nick exchanged handshakes and hugs. “You look as fine as the day you married this rogue,” Nick said, bowing and raising Sylvia’s hand for a kiss above her knuckles after Tony had given him a dirty look at even a hint that Nick might try to steal a kiss.
“You’re as charming as ever, Captain,” Sylvia replied, laughter in her voice at the exchange between Nick and her husband.
“Guess who was visiting Lavender Hill Farm when your invitation arrived?” Tony stepped aside as Sinclair and his wife approached, the earl’s strides becoming more confident the longer he was in motion.
Nick shook Sinclair’s hand. “You look much improved each time I see you.”
Sinclair gave a rueful chuckle. “Couldn’t possibly be worse. Once again, I am much obliged for the ride home you gave me.”
As a captain in the army, Sinclair had disappeared in the aftermath of the Battle of Waterloo. He had limped away rather than let surgeons hack off his badly injured leg. Weeks passed and the Army had written him off as missing and presumed dead when Tony asked for help. Alistair, Nick, and his crew had found the earl holed up at a farm in Belgium, still so weak from blood loss they’d had to hoist him into the hold on a cot before they could carry him to Norton’s cabin for the sail home.
Nick couldn’t help glancing at the woman at Sinclair’s side, confidently linking arms in such a way that he now saw was helping Sinclair stand upright. He remembered that Tony had set off on his journey that led him to Sylvia just days after Sinclair had married.
“You remember my wife, Jo.” Sinclair said.
Belatedly, Nick remembered how to behave in polite company, and he bowed and kissed her hand. “Delighted to see you again, Lady Sinclair.”
They chatted for several minutes, catching up. Last time they’d all been together had been at Alistair and Charlotte’s wedding breakfast.
“Let me make sure I remember correctly,” Charlotte said after a bit. “You were married this June.”
“Yes.” Sinclair wrapped one arm around Jo’s shoulders.
“And you were married in August.”
