Tony put his arm around Sylvia’s waist and nodded.
“And we were just married in October.” Charlotte tugged Alistair down for a quick kiss. “So that means there should be another wedding in December.” She looked at Nick expectantly.
Nick felt his face freeze in a polite smile but couldn’t speak. He had no air; his chest hurt too much to breathe.
Tony took pity on him. “Alas, I think the streak is broken, Lady Moncreiffe.”
Sylvia and Jo exchanged glances. “At the risk of being rude,” Jo said, “I’m famished. Is that apple pie I smell?” She gave a slight tug and Sinclair gave a “what can you do?” shrug, and exchanged an adoring smile with his wife before they made straight for the food tent, Sinclair’s limp less noticeable with each step.
Nick almost groaned. Everywhere he looked today there were happy couples gazing adoringly into each other’s eyes.
The rest of the group moved down the receiving line and Nick was finally able to draw breath. He jumped when Zach appeared at his side and thrust a glass into Nick’s hand. “Cider,” Zach said. “Looks like you could use the hard stuff, though.”
No more carriages were arriving, and he’d already greeted everyone on the guest list he could recall. He drained half the glass in one go, wished it was brandy, and strode toward the food tents. “Nice timing. You should have been here for the receiving line.”
Zach fell into step with him. “They want to see the mysterious viscount who disappears for weeks or months at a time, not the mad uncle next door.”
Nick gave him the side-eye. He started to put food on a plate, decided he had little appetite, and set it down. “Surprised you arrived on foot. Thought you’d want to show off your horse.”
“Our horse. And I figured your stables might be full.” Zach gestured at the assembled guests, a sea of people on the lawn.
Nick’s sisters had arrived with husbands and children, and also the requisite maids, valets, governesses, coachmen, and footmen. The arrival of Nick’s friends meant even more servants, horses, and carriages. Not only would there be more people sleeping in the house tonight than in the last five years, every stall in the stables was likely occupied by now.
As Nick was thinking of a suitable reply, Zach left to greet Caroline and his other nieces. Nick selected an apple and tossed it up. Before it fell back to his palm, it was snatched out of the air. He turned his head in time to see Jonesy take a bite out of it. “All is well?”
His first mate grinned around a mouthful and nodded. “Sailed like a dream, light as a feather, right into our usual slip in the harbor.” He took another bite of apple. “Goats are in the pasture with your sheep. Cat went hunting on the docks.”
Behind Jonesy, Chang was filling a plate. The gunner saluted Nick with a pork chop. He wore his usual powder apron tied around his waist.
Nick acknowledged his first mate’s report, then turned to Chang. “All is ready for the fireworks?”
Chang nodded. “Just wait fo’ sun to go down.”
Nick scanned the crowd but didn’t see any others from his crew.
“Tucker and Jack went to Portsmouth, shopping for canvas and a three-pounder,” Jonesy said. Before Nick could open his mouth to protest, Jonesy held up a hand. “They know you ain’t likely to buy just yet. They’re hoping to find bargains you can’t pass up.”
Nick rolled his eyes.
“The others are taking turns guarding the ship and going ashore. A little resting and recreating.”
Nick gave him a pat on the back and wandered through the crowd to play host. His guests ran the gamut from farmers and shepherds in their best homespun, to servants in half a dozen different liveries, to his friends and family in the relatively relaxed attire of country gentry. He felt overdressed. He’d rather be in a peacoat and duck trousers like Chang and Jonesy.
He passed Charlotte and Sylvia deep in conversation at one of the tables and chuckled when he overheard them comparing best methods for safely traversing a beach in the dark.
At the next table, Tony patted the empty chair beside him, and Nick sat down, with Alistair across from him. “They going to join us, you think?” Nick tilted his head, indicating Lord and Lady Sinclair, who were strolling around the perimeter of the lawn.
Tony poured a glass and pushed it toward him. “Ben needs to walk a while. His leg gets stiff from too much time in a carriage.”
“I’m surprised they left London at all,” Nick said. “Can’t have been a comfortable trip for him.”
Tony grinned. “They wanted to come down to see Lulworth Cove for themselves and meet my wife’s gang. Do some traveling before it gets too uncomfortable for Jo.”
Nick raised his brows.
“Congratulate me. I’m going to be an uncle next summer.” He seemed genuinely delighted at the prospect of never inheriting the title from his brother.
Nick and Alistair raised their glasses with Tony in a toast.
