to them with a smile. “Do you always leave your guests standing here, Will?”
Alexander almost grinned at the nickname. Some things had not changed, then. It took him straight back to when they had been children, running through the fields outside the town, whooping and shouting with sheer delight at being alive.
“No, of course not,” Charlotte said immediately. “I do apologize, Michaels, we quite forgot ourselves in delightful conversation with you! Come, let us go into the drawing room.”
It was only then Alexander felt the soreness of his back and the twinges in his legs. Traveling by the cheapest means possible certainly had drawbacks.
“Lead on,” he said with a nod. At least then, Pru would leave them to do something else. The Prudence he knew would not want to sit and listen to inane chatter.
But apparently, she did. Turning on the spot in a way most elegant–and best showing off her figure–she walked with John down the corridor and into the sumptuous drawing room. Tapestries lined the walls, plush carpets softened their steps, and when Alexander allowed himself to sit down, he sank a few inches into the plush comfort of the seat he had chosen.
This was heavenly, he thought, and then immediately chastised himself. Was that the thought of a clergyman? Was he to be so easily taken in by worldly pleasures?
But after the privations of home, it was indeed a luxury to sit here with old friends beside a warm fire.
If only Pru had not taken the seat opposite him, he was sure his mind would not have stopped working.
“I am glad you are able to join us again this year,” said Charlotte, filling the silence. “I did wonder if another family would wish to enjoy your company during this festive time.”
Alexander realized his mouth was open as he stared at Pru. John looked between them as he attempted to regain his equilibrium, and Pru smiled.
“Y-Yes,” he managed. “I mean, no. There is no other household I would wish to spend Christmas with, and I am glad to see the House of Mercia do so well. I have heard your investments continue to grow, Your Grace.”
The moment the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. John smirked, and William glanced at his wife without speaking.
Alexander swallowed. It was not right, he knew, to mention money before a duke and a marquis. It was in bad taste, not to be borne.
He shifted in his seat and averted his face from the now unwelcome heat of the fire. It was ludicrous, really. They had all grown up together! Money had not been a forbidden topic when none of them had any.
They had been equal. And that had all changed.
Who could have predicted, all those years ago, that he would be seated with not Will and John Lennox, but the Duke of Mercia and the Marquis of Gloucester?
Money was no longer their concern. If only he could say the same for himself.
Alexander cleared his throat, fully aware it was now his turn to spark conversation. It was a challenge, however, not to allow bitterness to seep into his words. It was not seemly of a vicar to be so envious of another’s riches.
“I-I must congratulate you, Charlotte, on your beautiful Christmas decorations,” he said, hoping this at least would be a neutral topic.
There was a laugh. Alexander did not need to turn to know it was Pru.
“You think Charlotte was the only one to decorate?” she said. “In her condition? I can’t see her up ladders.”
There were appreciative chuckles around the room, and Alexander took advantage of the excuse to look at her.
She was leaning back, effortlessly at ease with a teasing smile on her face. He had never seen her look so comfortable in company.
And yet, she was. She had always spoken openly with him. It was crowds she feared, notice by others, but that fear seemed to have disappeared.
“No, I am afraid we had to rope in the least festive and merry one of us all,” she continued, her eyes dancing. “Poor old John!”
“I, the least festive, the least merry!” John protested as the others laughed. “Why, I think you will find ’tis I who suggested we decorate outside each and every window in this palace! Is that not festive enough for you?”
“And who did it with such bad grace?” teased his sister. “Who complained the entire time, said no one would notice nor appreciate it, and then delegated most of the actual work to myself and