His future son. Hugh had assumed he and Adele would have a boy, and given how much time they’d spent in bed, they may already have conceived one. Of course, they might have a girl first, one he’d dote on just as much as he would a boy. He hoped if they had a girl, she’d be as pretty as Adele.
He shook it off and focused back on his friends.
“Where did you go just then?” Lark asked softly.
“Apparently I am ready to have children now. Adele and I have discussed it already, in fact.”
Owen frowned. “I don’t know about this love business. It does strange things to your mind.”
Hugh laughed. “No one is more surprised by this turn of events than I am. But back to the topic at hand, you thinkCollingswood might harbor some resentment toward me now that I have married and all but assured the title will go to another?”
Fletcher shrugged. “Or he wants money but is too proud to ask with so many witnesses. You heard him. He’s having financial issues.”
Hugh considered the problem. “He has set his solicitor on me to try to get a parcel of land in Kent that was willed to me by one of our distant relations. The lawyer found some loophole in the law that he is trying to exploit to question the will. I would gladly buy Collingswood out if money is what he wants.”
Lark pursed his lips and stared at the direction George had gone for a long moment. He turned back toward Hugh. “Is that why he’s back in London?”
“I can’t say. Does he normally live in Jamaica?” Hugh asked, not able to remember.
“Yes, most of the time.”
Hugh shook his head, as if it would rattle the memory loose. He knew something about George, but he didn’tknowit. It was hiding somewhere behind the gray curtain.
“Collingswood is a swine,” said Lark, “and a cowardly one, but if you and he had been arguing before your head injury, you did not tell us about it.”
“Fair enough.”
“Perhaps we should discuss a happier topic,” said Owen. “I am postponing my trip back to Wales.”
“This is happy news?” asked Fletcher.
“My ancestors are going to strike me down for this, but I prefer London to Caernarfon. What is even there besides a dusty old castle?”
“The beach?” Fletcher suggested. “As I recall, Caernarfon is close to the sea.”
“And you refer to the dusty old castle your family owns, no?” said Lark. “The one Edward I built five hundred years ago?”
“Aye, the same,” said Owen. “Do you know why Prinny is called the Prince of Wales?”
Hugh laughed. Owen was drunk, his accent becoming more pronounced. Likely Hugh had heard this story before, but he was game to hear it again as if for the first time. “Why?”
“When Edward built that bloody castle, he created the title of the Prince of Wales. The Welsh made him promise that no man who spoke a word of English would ever hold the title of Prince of Wales, and he agreed. So King Edward bestowed the title on his infant son, who did not speak a word at all. Ever since, the firstborn sons of the kings of England have been called the Prince of Wales.”
“Thank you for the history lesson,” said Fletcher. “You are not allowed to have any more whisky.”
“Why are you postponing your trip?” Lark asked.
“I have a new nephew! My sister did not make it out of London before he wanted to join the world.”
“Congratulations!” said Hugh.
“Thank you. He bears the unfortunate name of Llewellyn, after the last King of Wales, but he is awfully cute. But anyway, I am staying behind to help out the family before we all adjourn to Wales in a month or so. Hopefully before it gets too hot in London.”
“It is already too hot,” said Fletcher.
“Are you drinking to celebrate?” asked Lark.
“I will admit to having a tipple before I came out here to meet you gents.”
