Before Child could respond, still smiling, Therese continued, “And as it’s nearly time for tea, please do stay.”
Child’s answering smile was all glib charm. “Thank you, but no. I’d better get back to the Park, or Mama will start to worry that, in light of Roddy’s imminent arrival, I’ve slipped the leash and ridden back to London.”
Exchanging easy, undemanding comments about the local hunt, the three of them recrossed the lawn to the forecourt and Child’s waiting horse.
Therese renewed her invitation, but Child held firm.
He swung up to the saddle, gathered the reins, and looked down at them with an easy smile.
“I daresay,” Therese said, smiling serenely up at him, “that we’ll see you here over Christmas, and then once we’re all back in town and the Season starts, you’ll have to allow me to help you find a lady of your own. I know your Mama and aunts are keen to see you settled, and you have to admit that you’re not getting any younger.”
Devlin couldn’t help grinning at Child’s horrified expression; he suspected Therese would assume it was feigned, but Devlin was fairly certain it wasn’t.
“Huh.” Child stared at Therese as if he’d only just noticed how supremely dangerous she might be. “You really don’t need to bestir yourself on my account. After all, Roddy has two sons, so there’s really no need for me to set foot in parson’s snare.” Before Therese could reply, Child’s tone firmed. “I truly don’t want, much less need, a bride.”
After saluting them and wheeling his horse, as if to soften his rejection of Therese’s assistance, he called, “I will, however, look you up at Christmas, and I’ll certainly see you in London next year.”
With a last wave, he urged his horse down the drive.
Therese watched him go, then still smiling but now rather smugly, shook her head. “He’s forgotten how the ton works.”
Devlin watched Child’s dwindling figure as he turned his horse through the trees, heading across the Priory’s park toward his family’s home. “He’s fooling himself.” Then he glanced at Therese and arched his brows. “But who am I to cast stones?”
She laughed and squeezed his arm. “At least you saw the error of your ways—and ensured that I did, too, and also that I revised my own misguided opinions to boot.” She turned him toward the house and, as they ambled in that direction, said, “Hopefully, soon, Child will see the light, too.”
Devlin dipped his head and murmured, “Don’t hold your breath. There’s something he’s holding back, and as yet, I have no clue what it is.”
She met his eyes. “I’ve noticed the same thing, and I don’t have any idea, either.”
Devlin grinned rather diabolically. “That’s a joint mission we can look forward to undertaking next year—winkling Child’s secret from him.”
“Indeed.” Therese glanced across the lawn to where the children were still absorbed. “We’d better summon our brood for their tea, or Nanny will grumble.”
They paused before the front steps, and Devlin called, and after entrusting their navy to Dennis and Patty, the boys came pelting across the grass, with Horry holding Gillian’s hand and shrieking as she toddled in their wake as fast as her little legs would carry her.
The boys mobbed Therese, while Horry made for her father. Letting go of Gillian’s hand, the golden-haired moppet wound her arms around one of Devlin’s legs and clutched like a limpet. He laughed and ruffled her curls, then the crunch of boots on gravel had everyone turning to see Martin come striding around the house from the direction of the stable.
Martin’s face lit. “There you all are!”
The children promptly forsook their parents and raced to Martin; he was already firmly established as their favorite relative.
He’d arrived midmorning, having driven himself from London in his newly acquired curricle, which he’d proudly displayed to Devlin, Therese, and the boys. He’d brought wishes from the rest of her family, along with a quantity of gifts, and had happily accepted Devlin and Therese’s invitation to stay for a few days, admitting that he’d come hoping to pick Devlin’s brain about setting up a business venture.
Keen to get the air of the capital out of his lungs, after lunch, Martin had gone riding.
While the boys grasped his jacket and pelted him with questions, Horry rushed up, holding up her arms, and Martin swooped and scooped up the little girl, settling her in his arms as he answered her brothers’ eager queries.
After spending some minutes smiling fondly at the sight, Therese shooed the children toward the house. “If you don’t get up to the nursery soon, your tea will be cold, and Nanny Sprockett will be cross.”
At the mention of food, the boys cheered; deserting Martin, they raced up the steps and into the house. Martin handed Horry to the waiting Gillian, and once she, Horry, Patty, and Dennis had followed the boys inside, Therese, Devlin, and Martin climbed the steps and ambled into the stone-flagged hall.
Alverton Priory was a rambling old house, built around an old baronial hall that had been added to by successive generations of the Cader family until it had grown to the sprawling, comfortable home it now was.
The children’s voices echoed down the ornately carved wooden stairs, the sound bringing a smile to Therese’s lips, a smile she noted Devlin shared.
This was their principal home, the house in which they would live and love for the rest of their days. More than at any other of the earldom’s houses, their hearts were anchored there.
They knew their greatest peace in this place, and to add yet more joy to their happiness, she and Devlin were expecting a new addition to their family next year.
