Chapter 15

The morning sun shone down warmly, painting long, cool shadows on the cobbles where Nicholas hurried up the steps. He knocked on the door of Aldford Townhouse. He'd woken after a restless night following his visit to Bernadette. He had hastened to his mother's home to take the earliest opportunity to tell her Bernadette's reply.

"Good morning," he greeted the butler as he opened the door. "Is my mother at breakfast?" he winced, hoping he hadn't come too early as he didn't want to disturb her.

"She's in the drawing-room, my lord. Everyone has already broken their fast," he added, evidently seeing Nicholas' worried frown.

"Good. Good. Thank you," Nicholas added, absently handing the fellow his coat and hat before hurrying indoors.

He reached the hallway outside the drawing room and paused, hearing the sounds of soft laughter drifting out. The sound reminded him of the morning with Miss Rowland. It had been so lovely, and he allowed his mind to drift back there, savoring the memories.

She thinks I'm handsome , he thought dazedly .

He still couldn't believe it. The comment she'd made about his sisters being beautiful, like him, returned to his head repeatedly. He couldn't shake it.

Nobody had ever called him handsome before.

He stood in the hallway, thoughts drifting in the bliss of the previous day. A noise made him blink, returning him to the present. It was Henry sneezing, the sound loud in the hallway. He grinned to himself. Taking a breath to clear his head, he stepped forward into the drawing room.

"Good morning," he greeted the family. Mama was sitting on the chaise-longue, a book on her knee. Henry sat opposite her; the paper folded on a low table beside him. His sisters were at the table, where they let out delighted yells as they saw him.

"Nicholas!"

"You're here."

His mother stood up, a happy smile crossing her face.

"Why, son! This is a surprise. Good day." She reached him and embraced him, and he held her close, noticing with a twist in his heart that she seemed a little frailer than he remembered. He looked down at her, smiling into her eyes. She beamed back.

"Good morning," he greeted Henry, who stood up and shook his hand.

"Morning, young fellow," Henry greeted. "A pox on this damn hay fever. Sorry," he added, smiling at his daughters.

"Papa! Nicholas doesn't mind about your sneezing," Marcia said warmly. She came over to Nicholas from where she sat at the table, her lilac dress rustling. Clarissa raced over, dressed in a white muslin decorated with small blue flowers, and almost knocked them both over by embracing both Marcia and him at once.

"Nicholas! You're here."

"I am," Nicholas said, hugging both his sisters gently. "Are you busy?" He added, glancing at the table.

"Playing whist," Clarissa told him briefly. "Will you play too?"

"Maybe," Nicholas said warmly. He didn't join in games with his sisters often enough. After talking to Miss Rowland, he felt lighter inside than he had for a long time. Playing games didn't seem like too much trouble.

"Hurray!" Clarissa exclaimed delightedly.

"Only if you're sure," Marcia said gently, a small frown on her brow. Nicholas nodded.

"Of course, I'm sure," he said at once. "Mama? Will you join in?"

"I must do this mending," his mother said, gesturing to a pile of things in her workbasket. "But I'll certainly play later, if you stay long enough." She smiled at him. Nicholas sketched a small bow.

"Thank you for reminding me that I don't visit regularly enough," he said playfully. "And thank you for the invitation. Miss Rowland accepted."

"What?" Clarissa shrieked happily.

"She's going to visit us?" Marcia asked hopefully

"Yes. Yes, she is," Nicholas told them warmly. "She said she'd be pleased to visit all of you and make your acquaintance." He smiled proudly and shyly. His mother smiled too.

"I'm very glad," she told him warmly. "Henry? I'll send for the butler. He can tell the housekeeper we'll be having a guest. And would you like tea?" she asked Nicholas.

"Yes, please."

His mother rang for the butler and Nicholas sat down with his sisters to play cards.

He grinned to himself. He hadn't played cards in years, and he saw Clarissa roll her eyes when he asked them to remind him about the rules.

"It's not that hard," Marcia told him gently. "It goes like this..."

Nicholas listened. He did his best to concentrate and after the second repetition of the rules he silently hoped that he'd understood. He accepted the cards they gave him and tried to play.

"I win!" Clarissa called out excitedly after a few minutes. Nicholas turned to her, confused.

"Yes, she does," Marcia explained in a kind tone. "It's like this..."

Nicholas listened to the explanation a little bemusedly. He wasn't really focusing—he kept on thinking about Miss Rowland and imagining what it would be like to have her visiting in the next few hours. He blinked confusedly at his sister, who grinned.

"It's all right," she told him. "We'll play another round, and then you'll understand more."

"Nicholas is distracted," Clarissa commented. "Do you think he has something on his mind? Someone, perhaps?"

"Mayhap," Marcia agreed warmly.

"Sisters, I..."

Nicholas drew in a breath and tried to think of some way to excuse himself, but his mother interrupted.

"Nicholas hasn't had his tea yet, girls. Maybe we should let him sit and rest for a while. He can play another round later."

"That's not fair," Clarissa protested gently, but Marcia nodded.

"We'll let him rest now. Then he has to play later." She fixed Nicholas with a playful look.

"Yes, I will," he agreed, and stood, heading to where his mother and Henry were sitting. He thought his mother looked pleased and he wondered if it was the news about the upcoming dinner that had cheered her up.

"I say, young fellow," Henry began as Nicholas helped himself to a cup of tea. "I don't know about you, but I'm wondering seriously about this fuss in the rope trade..."

Nicholas listened to Henry's words, as he discussed a recent slump in investments in rope due to the market being flooded with cheap hempen cords. He tried to comment intelligently, but he still couldn't really focus on anything.

"I wonder if Nicholas could help me," his mother began, cutting through the talk about investments and prospects. "I was wondering what the best menu would be for when Miss Rowland visits."

"Oh." Nicholas beamed. That was a much nicer topic, one closer to his current thoughts. "Gladly."

"I thought perhaps we could have either fish, or roast beef, and for the first course, we could have..."

His mother listed two menus, and he was surprised by knowing exactly what he thought Miss Rowland would like. Even though they had only eaten one meal together, he felt he knew her taste. He chose a menu with roast fish as the main course, carrot soup to begin with, and, among other courses, a dessert of milk pudding. He thought it sounded more to her taste.

"Thank you, Nicholas." His mother smiled warmly. "I'll have the housekeeper informed as soon as possible."

"Not at all. Thank you, Mama," he added fondly. He felt a flush of gratitude for her. She clearly cared about what Miss Rowland might prefer. He glanced about the room, taking in his sisters giggling as they played at the table and Henry, contentedly sipping his tea. He felt grateful for his family, who seemed so happy and relaxed. Miss Rowland's parents were nothing like that, and, while Grandmother and Grandfather were not exactly easy, he had grown up in a warm and loving house with his mother and father, and Henry was likewise relaxed and easygoing. He felt grateful for them all.

He stayed a while at the townhouse, then excused himself, recalling that he'd agreed to meet with Andrew at the club before midday. He hailed a Hackney coach to convey him to the club.

"I say," Andrew greeted him as Nicholas strode in. "You look happy."

"I feel like it too," Nicholas said warmly.

"Grand!"

Nicholas grinned at his friend's genuine pleasure. He leaned back in the leather-covered chair and breathed out, feeling at peace for the first time in what seemed like an age. He recalled, again, how Miss Rowland had called him beautiful, and he tried to hide his grin. He looked over to see Andrew, head tilted, a curious expression on his face.

"What is it?" Andrew asked him.

"What?" Nicholas demanded, one side of his mouth lifting in a grin. "What is what?"

"Nothing...just thinking that you look remarkably peaceful."

"I am," Nicholas told him warmly. "Strange, that."

"Why?" Andrew asked curiously.

Nicholas made a vague gesture with a hand. "No real reason," he mused. There were, in fact, too many reasons: The fact that his grandfather's thoughtless interference had led him to such happiness, that was one. The fact that Emily's presence in London affected him barely at all—that was another. The third reason was that his entire family—Mama, his sisters and Henry—seemed happier, and that was the reason he felt most comfortable mentioning. "It's just strange, how everyone seems so very happy just now. Mama, Clarissa, Marcia...even Henry."

"Not strange," Andrew replied. "It stands to reason. They're happy because you are. And you're happy because of Miss Rowland; no need to be coy about it."

Nicholas laughed. "I suppose so." He felt a blush creep into his cheek, and he looked away, smiling.

"Well, quite." Andrew grinned at him; brown eyes warm with smiling. Nicholas looked at his plate, but he couldn't hide the grin that lifted the corners of his mouth, and he didn't want to. He was happy, and it was due to his meeting Miss Rowland, and there was nothing wrong with that. He leaned back on the chair and let himself wonder what it would be like having her as a guest at the house the next day.