23. A Grandfather is Informed

CHAPTER 23

A GRANDFATHER IS INFORMED

L ater that night

Dinner had been finished for some time before Barbara, Hannah, and Grace finally left the table to take their tea in the parlor. The conversation that evening had been more animated than usual given nearly everyone had spent most of the day sleeping, and the young men were growing excited about their upcoming trip.

“I do hope you’re not too disappointed about having to look after us,” Randy said, directing his query to his cousin, Donald.

A footman delivered their glasses of port, which gave Donald a moment to consider how to respond. “I won’t be if you behave yourselves,” he replied, grinning. Despite what he had learned from his mother—and the letter she had delivered—he was feeling lighter than he had in years. Although he knew better than to wish for someone’s death, he couldn’t help the excitement he felt at the thought of finally taking Nicoletta to wife. The excitement he felt about finally seeing his son. About being a father.

If only he had a grander house in which they could live.

“Tell me, cousin. Will my knowing Ancient Greek be of any help when we’re actually in Greece?” Tom asked.

“It will,” Donald assured him. “In some places. And your Latin will help in others.”

“Which means you’ll need to start reacquainting yourselves with the language,” Henry remarked, leaning forward to regard his two sons at the table with a meaningful expression. “Perhaps as early as tonight.”

“Yes, Father,” they both replied in unison.

“We should be going,” Henry said to Will. “We have to transport the wheat to the mill tomorrow.”

“Understood,” Will responded, rising to escort his brother-in-law and nephews to the hall. Henry hurried up to the parlor to escort Hannah and Grace to the vestibule, Barbara joining them to say her farewells.

Once the butler had seen to providing the Forster family with their coats, umbrellas, and a lantern, Barbara kissed her sons on the cheek and headed up the stairs.

Will and David bid them farewell and remained in the vestibule until they were out of sight.

They were about to return to the dining room, but they turned to discover Donald blocking their way. “What is it?” Will asked, sensing something was wrong.

“Mother can read Latin,” Donald stated.

Leaning against the arched frame of the vestibule, David regarded his older brother with a crinkled brow. “She’s a countess,” he said with a shrug.

From his father’s initial reaction of puzzlement, Donald realized he needed to elaborate. “She read the letter that was mis-delivered to you.”

Will blinked and straightened. “Was that letter from... from Catania?” he asked, his gaze briefly darting to his younger son.

“Indeed,” Donald replied. “Mother knows… everything.”

His eyes focused on Donald, Will’s expression darkened. “I appreciate the warning,” he said.

“Except… she doesn’t know that you know,” Donald added sheepishly.

Straightening, Will crossed his arms and sighed, all the air leaving his body. He regarded his son with a combination of resignation and contempt. “Damn,” he muttered. He lifted his head in the direction of the dining room. “Let’s continue this conversation in private,” he said in a quiet voice.

“Why do I feel as if I’ve missed something important?” David asked, crossing his arms over his chest so he looked like a younger version of his father.

Donald rolled his eyes. “The woman I intended to marry six years ago lives in Catania,” he stated as they took their seats at the table.

“Marry?” David’s eyes rounded.

“But unbeknownst to me—or her—she was already betrothed to a marchese?—”

“Ouch,” David said in a quiet voice, gripping his port glass in one hand before draining it in one gulp.

“—but he’s dead now, and I intend to finally marry her,” Donald continued.

David blinked. “Good thing you’re about to take us on a Grand Tour,” he said, his gaze going to his father. “But who’s going to act as our cicerone after Catania?”

Will cleared his throat. “I’ve a mind to offer myself as a guide,” he said, his attention on his mind’s eye. “About time I took your mother on a wedding trip.”

A scoff sounded from his heir. “So much for time away from parents,” David said under his breath.

“You would go?” Donald asked in surprise, ignoring his brother’s complaint. “I know Aunt Hannah would feel better about sending Randy and Tom away if she knew you were with them.”

“Only if I can offer Henry a suitable replacement for me ,” Will countered, his attention still on his glass of port. “I wonder if Thomas Cavanaugh would be willing to take my place as foreman for a year,” he mused, not expecting either one of his sons to answer.

“He is the logical choice,” Donald remarked. “We can promote Billy to oversee the stables in my stead,” he suggested, referring to the husband of Hannah’s lady’s maid. “Cavanaugh’s oldest son can see to the horses,” he added. “He’s good with the draft horses, and he and Billy get along well,” he added.

“His youngest son can take my place,” David offered, his gaze darting back and forth between his brother and father. “Not that anyone has to, since I’m the worst farmer in the family.”

Both Donald and Will turned their attention on him. “True,” they replied in unison.

“Hey,” he said in protest.

“I’ll let Henry know in the morning,” Will stated. “Let’s plan to leave for London in a week. Travel before the winter sets in.”

“Athens and Rome will be more tolerable in the winter months,” Donald said with excitement. “In the summer, you can make your way to the regions north of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies,” he added. “While I see to relocating Lady Montblanc and the Marchese Montblanc to England.”

David’s brows furrowed in confusion while Will regarded his son with a frown. “Or perhaps you should consider relocating to Catania.”

Donald stared at his father for a long moment before he leaned against the back of his chair. He hadn’t considered living on Sicily since he had first fallen in love with Nicoletta. Given his son’s new status as the Marchese Montblanc, he realized his father was right.

Perhaps he did need to move to Catania.

“I’ll write another letter to Nikky. Tell her of our plans,” Donald murmured, a grin finally returning to light up his face.

Although he felt a moment of panic when he realized he would be in transit when her responding missive arrived, he quelled the sensation.

If they were truly leaving for London in a week, he might see her in as little as a month’s time.

“What about your publisher?” his father asked, interrupting his reverie.

Donald blinked. “I’m nearly finished transcribing my final copy,” he replied. “So I can bring the original and their copy with me to London,” he said, deciding he would simply turn over what he had completed and not offer the option of an updated version. “I’ll deliver the manuscript directly to their offices, and we’ll take the other copy with us so we have a guide. I’ll bring my original notes as well.”

Will chuckled. “You might send a letter apprising them of our plans. Perhaps you’ll be paid before we sail off.”

“Sail off?” David repeated. “You mean to France, right?”

Shaking his head, his father said, “I’m a naval man, son. I have no intention of going to that part of the world by way of land,” he remarked. “We’ll go via the Mediterranean. With any luck, we’ll end up on a ship with a captain who will allow me a turn at the wheel.”

Donald and David exchanged quick glances, the younger allowing a look of confusion. Donald scoffed. “Our father was Commander Slater of the HMS Greenwich ,” he stated. “He served in the British Navy for eight years,” he added when David merely stared at him.

“Oh,” the younger man responded. “I guess I’d quite forgotten,” he murmured as the other two laughed.

“Off to bed, you two. We have a lot of work to do in the next week,” Will stated.

The brothers nodded, David heading up the stairs while Donald made his way to the vestibule. He was donning his coat when his father joined him.

“I am sorry about mother,” Donald said by way of an apology.

Will allowed a shrug. “I’ll see to it. With any luck, I can settle her with news of our plans.”

With only a week to pack and prepare to be gone for a year, she would have much to occupy her time.