Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

22 December 1820

Beecham Manor, Suffolk

L ucius stuck his head out of the coach window. The tiger hopped down to open the black iron gate of the Beecham estate. He never tired of the view when returning home. A long gravel drive led up to a rambling mansion of limestone, its four stories and multiple gables shadowing the courtyard and portico. He knew every inch of the manor and the lands surrounding it. This was his inheritance, and he loved the place almost as much as he loved his family.

“Ready for some breakfast?” he asked his companions.

Fitzjames, a stocky blond fellow of medium height and a constant smile—or smirk, depending on the situation—gave a cheer. “Not used to getting up before the sun rises, Page. I’m usually heading home about then.”

“True enough,” agreed Hawkesbury, his friend who had helped trap Lord Frederick. He was a tall man with reddish hair and blue eyes, fresh out of the army. “It’s beginning to show on your face too. A little more sleep would do you good.”

“I’ll have time enough for that when I’m a doddering old man,” Fitz said with a laugh. “Or when I take a wife.” He added this with a glance at Lucius.

Both men had been invited to Beecham Manor for a few nights on their way to other destinations. But the real reason for the visit was his sister, Nettie. These were two gentlemen who were being considered as possible suitors for her. Fitzjames was the fourth son of a viscount. He had a good allowance and had made wise investments, allowing him to live the life of a gentleman without pursuing a career. Although he was a bit arrogant when it came to the ladies, Fitz was a good and honorable man.

Hawkesbury was the third son of an earl, had just sold his commission, and would inherit a small estate from his mother. He was also Lucius’s pick out of the two, though he called them both friends. Neither would mistreat Nettie. But Fitz laughed at the idea of fidelity and would most likely have a mistress after marriage, where Hawk would never consider being unfaithful once he put on the leg shackles.

Gibbs greeted them at the top of the steps after sending footmen for their luggage. “Good day, Lord Page. It is good to have you home again,” greeted the rotund butler in his typical monotone. “The family is in the breakfast room. Shall I have Cook send up more food?”

Not a mention of their early arrival, Lucius noted with a smile. The man was always perfectly manicured and never flustered. He hoped Gibbs lived forever, for there was no equal to their loyal butler.

“Yes, please. I’m afraid I roused these louts at dawn.” He removed his gloves, greatcoat, and beaver hat, handing them to Gibbs. His ancestors frowned down upon them from the walls of the entryway. To the right were stairs leading to the first floor. “Come, my fine friends, and meet the Pages.”

They entered the breakfast room, and his sister jumped from her seat. The man next to her, a friend of his father, grabbed the chair before it toppled backward.

“Lucius, I’ve missed you so!” squealed Nettie.

Lucius had barely made it through the doorway when he caught her and spun her around. “My sweet sister, I’ve missed you as well. And I’ve brought along some admirers.” He planted a kiss on the top of her umber hair and set her back on her feet.

“May I introduce Mr. Hawkesbury,” Lucius said, indicating the taller man, “and Mr. Fitzjames. You’ve both met my father, Lord Beecham. This is my father’s fiancée, Lady Henney, and his good friend, Viscount Weston.”

Nettie’s eyes widened. “You know Lord Weston?”

“Of course, we’ve met at the club with Father when the Lords are in session,” he answered, turning back to his friends. “And this is my lovely and inquisitive sister, Lady Annette.”

She held out her hand. “It is a pleasure, sirs.”

Lucius noted what appeared to be annoyance cross the viscount’s face. With amusement, he wondered if he’d been mistaken. Could his father’s friend be jealous of the newly arrived suitors? His father cut off Lucius’s thoughts as he quit the table to give his son a slapping hug and shake hands with the new guests. “Welcome! Am I a day off or are you a day early? Doesn’t matter, we’ve plenty of room.”

“I wanted to send word but figured I’d get here on the tail of the messenger, so we thought to surprise you,” Lucius explained, bending over Lady Henney’s hand. “Ma’am, it’s always a pleasure.”

She blushed. “You get your charm from your father.”

“That’s why you love me so,” he teased.

***

23 December 1820

Lucius thoroughly enjoyed watching his friends vie for his sister’s attention. While Hawkesbury would appeal to Nettie’s intellectual side, Fitzjames would be her match for outdoor activities. He had thought it would be entertaining to see who she favored more. But watching the group over the past two days, he’d noticed the glances between Nettie and Lord Weston. The viscount was a friend of Lucius’s father, but they were not of the same age. Weston was younger, though there was still an age difference of close to twenty years between him and Nettie. Yet, there was true affection in their eyes when their gazes met.

He'd learned of the neighboring vicar’s debacle of a visit. Lucius had thought the man was too weak-willed for Nettie, anyway. Hawk was out of the game after mentioning a possible move to India. Nettie would never be so far from her family. That left Weston and Fitz. Lucius would wager on the viscount.

After a rousing game of charades, with Hawk’s clever guesses casting shadows over the slower but good-natured Fitz, the group decided to call it an evening. Lucius snuck down to the kitchen for another spoonful or two of custard. Since he was a boy, Cook had always put away an extra bowl or two for him in their “secret” place. At nine and twenty, he still snuck into the larder to find his stash of the golden sweet pudding.

After his snack, he headed for his room, humming “Good King Wenceslas.” Tomorrow, his brother William would arrive with the final suitor. He hadn’t met the man and wondered how he would compare to Weston and Fitzjames. As he passed the library, he heard a loud thunk . Peeking around the door, he saw Nettie standing over the prone form of Fitz, laughter bubbling from her.

He joined her. “Don’t tell me he tried to kiss my sister, and she showed him her right hook.” He crossed the room and stood beside her.

Annette shook her head as she caught her breath. “No, but he did kiss me.” She wrinkled her nose. “I wasn’t impressed. When he tried for a second, I sidestepped, and here we are.”

Soon, they were both doubled over, wiping the tears from their eyes.

“What shall we do with him?” she asked as they both stared down at the snuffling mass.

“Leave him. He shouldn’t drink so much when he’s a guest. Let him wake up and wonder what the deuce happened.” Lucius picked up a book from the floor, handed it to his sister, and put an arm around her shoulders as they left the library. “Blast, but the man has a snore that could wake the dead.”

As they walked to their rooms, he kissed Annette on top of her head. He had seen his sister grow during their visit, shed the fear of men her own age, and come out of the shell she’d placed about herself. “I’m proud of you, Sister. I’ve seen my old Nettie come back to us in the past few days. Could one of my friends be the reason?”

Annette smiled up at him, and his chest swelled. It didn’t matter who she chose if anyone. The light returning to those sea-green eyes was enough for him to know she would be well.

“I think the fact that they are your friends and know my history, yet still wanted to come, set me at ease. I’ve enjoyed myself the past two days, and I thank you. But one will live too far away, and the other really doesn’t…”

“Make your heart go pitter-patter?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

She chuckled and shook her head. “Not a pitter or a patter.”

“Hm. What of Lord Weston?” He halted and turned to her, wondering if she’d confirm his suspicion. “I’ve seen you watching him. And I know that look. Saw it in our brother Ambrose’s eyes when he met Hester.”

Embarrassment colored her cheeks. “I… I?—”

“Does he cause a pitter or a patter?”

“Both,” she gushed. “And he’s also not as old as Papa.”

Ah, she had worried about the difference in their years. But the expression on Nettie’s face made his heart swell. Happiness. His sister was truly happy. Who cared how old the man was when he could put such a sparkle in her green eyes?

“It wouldn’t matter. The heart doesn’t have a calendar or follow age.” He bent and whispered in her ear, “You know how long I have waited.”

He thought of the woman he’d been unable to forget or replace. Yet, he had made the decision not to send her any more birthday trinkets. It was time to look ahead, find a compatible wife, and plan a future. He would be an earl someday; he had responsibilities. He had no more time to waste on romantic fantasies.

“Lucius, promise me something?”

“Depends.” What was she up to with such an urgent tone?

“If I find a husband, will you open your heart to finding another to love?”

Lucius took in a deep breath. It was as if she’d read his mind. “I have committed myself to looking for a wife once you are settled. But love? I don’t think another could steal my heart. Christiana is the only woman who sparks my soul.”