A Favor for the Prince - Jane Ashford Page 0,83

pulled her closer to his side. Nathaniel swallowed and blinked even as he smiled.

Randolph caught Verity’s eye. How splendid she’d been through this dreadful time! He tried to put his appreciation into a smile. Sebastian’s fist tapped his shoulder, and Randolph turned to meet his brother’s grin. The room, and Sebastian in particular, buzzed with celebratory energy. Randolph could tell that even Alan wanted to leap and laugh.

“No rowdy games in the house,” the duchess murmured, clearly aware of the bubbling mood.

All the Greshams burst out laughing. “Not even a tug of war in the gallery?” asked Robert in a cajoling voice from their youth.

“Or sliding down the waxed floor,” added Sebastian in similar coaxing tones. “Just a race. No flying cricket balls involved.”

Their father choked. Randolph couldn’t tell if it was a suppressed laugh or a stifled sob. He found he didn’t wish to know.

“Only ruined stockings,” the duchess answered. “No, not even leapfrog.”

Randolph felt like leaping. Normality had been restored after a terrifying interval. Except that Mama looked so very tired.

Dr. Loughton seemed mystified. “Her Grace needs quiet,” he said. “I must suggest fewer visitors at one time.” He made a herding motion.

As the duke sat down beside the bed, Randolph followed the rest of them out. He saw his father bury his face in the coverlet and his mother rest her hand in his hair. His throat grew tight. If Papa had lost her…but he hadn’t. They hadn’t. After a period of recuperation, Mama would be the center around which they all revolved once again. With that reassurance, exhaustion hit Randolph like a roundhouse blow. When had he last slept more than a couple of hours? He was dazed with fatigue. He headed back to bed.

* * *

Dinner that night was loud. The released tension came flooding out in mock disputes and lively stories. “Remember that Christmas joust we staged in the upper gallery?” Sebastian said. “We were meant to be the flower of chivalry.”

“You brought horses into the house?” asked Flora.

“No, no, we three eldest were the steeds.” He indicated Nathaniel and Randolph. “We put the younger ones on our shoulders. I got Alan, who had no proper grip on his lance at all.”

“I was four,” said Alan. “Or so you tell me. I don’t remember this one.”

“You had Alan because you were the tallest,” said Nathaniel.

“We had to handicap the lists,” Sebastian agreed. “Nathaniel took James, and Randolph had Robert.”

“Who kicked me on the nose,” Randolph observed. “It hurt like blazes.”

“Excitement of the moment,” said Robert. “And we won, didn’t we?”

“The final score was never satisfactorily resolved,” said Nathaniel.

His eyes twinkled, but Verity noticed that his chin had come up.

“I don’t believe I heard about this exploit,” said the duke. He looked much better, Verity thought. An improved appetite would soon restore him completely.

“Because we stole cues from the billiard room for our lances,” Nathaniel said.

“What?” The older man put down his wineglass. “You might have put someone’s eye out. Good lord, how did all six of you survive to adulthood?”

His oldest son nodded. “Now that I am about to be a parent myself, I shudder to think of it.”

“The rule was a touch to the chest,” muttered Sebastian. “No one was poking at eyes.”

“I should hope not,” said his father. “But there are such things as accidents.”

“Well, we promise never to do it again, Papa,” said Robert, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You know best.”

“Doubt I could carry Alan for long these days,” said Sebastian, half seriously.

The table dissolved in laughter. Sebastian took it good-naturedly.

“I don’t know how the duchess did it,” Flora said to Verity a little later. The ladies had decided to stay with the festivities in the dining room rather than leave the gentlemen to their port. But people had shifted their seats, and they were now side by side. “Six boys! Every time I think of it, I’m in awe.”

Verity nodded. “At least they’re more subdued now that they’re grown up.”

“You think so?” replied Flora with raised eyebrows. “They stranded Nathaniel with nothing but a moth-eaten wolfskin to wear on his wedding day.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You well may. But you heard me correctly.”

“Where did they find a wolfskin?”

“This is your first question?” Flora asked with a smile. “Rather than why?”

Verity smiled back. “The reasons…unfolded in my mind. I assumed it was the sort of idiotic prank that men play on one another. The details were the puzzle.” Verity looked down the table. It was difficult, and then too easy, to

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