tall as Nick, or quite as handsome. He had something of Ethan’s sharper features, and yet in his height, blue eyes, and blond hair, he was unmistakably a Haddonfield. He scanned the room as Nick’s arm slid from his shoulders. “We’re all home, every one of us, and it’s about damned time.”
The room went silent as Beck’s gaze fastened on Ethan, who was blinking at a portrait of a young blond man in old-fashioned regimentals.
Young Della held up her brandy.
“Here’s to family,” she said, “reunited, and isn’t Papa just laughing his harp off to know he’s the reason.”
***
Thank God and all his angels, Della’s toast had broken the ice, because Nick hadn’t known what to say. Nothing and everything. Love for his siblings swirled through his grief, through his marital woes, through his dread of assuming responsibility for the earldom, and all of it seemed to impair both his ability to speak and his ability to think.
As Beckman wedged into a place beside Ethan, the room once again settled in to storytelling, reminiscing, the occasional teary aside, and more frequent laughter. When Nick resumed his seat, he arranged a leg on either side of Leah’s perch on the floor, and drew her back to lean against his chair. His hands caressed her neck and shoulders, not idly, but because it soothed him to touch his wife.
Nick leaned down, his lips near her ear, his nose nearly buried in the lily of the valley fragrance of her hair. “Your behind has to be getting numb,” he whispered. “I’ll trade you.”
A man could say such a thing to his wife, and watch for the way she tried not to smile.
“Why don’t we shoo the last of the guests away and arrange for a late supper on trays in here for the family?”
“You shoo, Wife. I’ll get word to the kitchen.”
Leah shook her head. “You’re the earl, and I’m sure your letters patent spell out very clearly that you are in charge of shooing on all occasions of state. Come along like a good earl, lest I report you to the Regent.”
Oh, how he loved her, Nick mused as he trailed her from the room. Then his steps slowed and faltered as he realized exactly what he had admitted.
God in heaven, what he’d tried to characterize as fondness, protectiveness, and sexual attraction was much worse than all those combined. All odds to the contrary, he loved his wife, and he’d not even truly become her lover. Nor could he, ever.
“Nicholas?” Leah eyed him curiously. “Are you coming?”
“Yes, lovey.” Nick took her hand and linked his fingers through hers. “A-shooing we will go.” They passed the family parlor, and Leah paused to close the door. Across the hall, neighbors were still eating, drinking, and visiting the day away, leaving Nick to frown in consternation.
“How exactly does this shooing work?” Because Leah would know.
“You find the vicar or the mayor or the local magistrate,” Leah said, “and ask them to clear the room as politely at possible. Their consequence will demand they see to it with all dispatch.”
“I did not learn this at university,” Nick muttered, his eyes lighting on the vicar. In five minutes, the crowd was thinning, his neighbors and friends offering final condolences, until he, Leah, and the servants were the only ones left.
“God’s hairy b—beard.” Nick looped his arms over Leah’s shoulders and drew her close. Time enough later to ponder the disaster looming for a man in love with a wife he could not have. “This has been a long, long day.”
“You’re managing wonderfully,” Leah murmured against his chest, “but the brandy is catching up with me.”
“Was that you who sent the decanter to the music room?” Nick asked, his cheek against her temple. “Little Della was in alt to be taking spirits, but George surreptitiously snitched most of her portion.”
“I am the culprit. Ethan did not want to greet his sisters in public, and the best part of any funeral is the stories.”
“I wasn’t aware funerals had a best part,” Nick said, though the memory of Leah curled at his feet while his siblings laughed and cried together was precious, if not without pain. “Nita was wise to put the actual… service off for a day. We’re going to want tomorrow to recover from today.”
“Can we have the body sealed into its coffin now?” Leah asked, stifling a yawn.
“We can. You are so matter-of-fact, using words like body, coffin, and burial. I did not know I married a woman