It was strange how already home felt different—a place she was visiting rather than one where she belonged.
Everyone was there, and they had all come downstairs to greet them, as though they were visiting royalty. Philippa did not know if some at least of them would have been out doing other things ifLucas had not sent notice of their coming, but perhaps not, for Nicholas and Owen would be leaving soon. So would Ben and Joy.
The fleeting nature of happiness struck Philippa as she hugged everyone and Lucas shook hands with the men and kissed the women on the cheek and all of them, it seemed, tried to talk at once. Today, for a few hours at least, they would be together here, all her immediate family, enjoying one another’s company. Tomorrow they would begin to disperse. Stephanie lost no time in informing them that Nicholas would be returning to Brussels, his mission here in England completed, and that Owen would be going back to Oxford. Even later today they would no longer be all together as a family, for she would be returning to Arden House with her husband.
Where she belonged.
Strangely, even after less than a full day, it no longer seemed an alien concept. Or even an unwelcome one. For she already loved her new family as though she had known them all for a long time. And there was her marriage to which to grow accustomed. It had had a slightly shaky start this morning, perhaps, but Lucas had redeemed himself with that somewhat theatrical speech, in which he had addressed her asmy love, and then announced that he had already sent word to Stratton House that they would be coming later. He had known how she must long to be here today while all her brothers were still here. And tonight she could surely expect a repetition of last night. It was his reason for marrying her, after all. Her breath quickened at the very thought that she hadthatto look forward to all over again.
Gwyneth took Lucas’s arm and led the way up to the drawing room with him, talking the whole way. Nicholas drew one of Philippa’s arms through his while Owen took her other arm.
“It is a good thing you have two arms, Pippa,” Owen said, “or Nick and I would have to fight each other.”
“But she does not have three,” Ben grumbled from behind them.
“I hold your hand, Papa,” Joy offered.
Lucas mingled well with her family, Philippa was pleased to see during the next hour before luncheon was announced. He seemed relaxed and in good humor. Devlin treated him with a certain stiff reserve, it was true, but her other brothers did not. Nor did Gwyneth or Mama or Stephanie, who had liked him as soon as they met him earlier this spring.
Even Joy, after eyeing him warily from some distance at first, finally pointed a finger at him in that characteristic way of hers and announced in her precise little voice that he was Uncle Luc. She was not talking a great deal yet, but she did seem to have a knack for learning names.
Lucas pointed right back at her. “Niece Joy Ellis,” he said.
She chuckled and looked up at Owen, who was sitting on the floor, building a tower of painted wooden blocks for her to push over as soon as it was almost finished.
Gwyneth meanwhile had drawn everyone’s attention her way. “Before Devlin and I came to London,” she said, “we planned to host some sort of party here at Stratton House. It is the first time we have been to London together and we do need to do more than just attend everyone else’s entertainments. Mother agrees with us and so does Stephanie. We are going to invite everyone whoisanyone in thetonto a special ball in celebration of your wedding, Pippa and Lucas. There was no time to arrange either a big wedding or a lavish wedding breakfast for a large number of guests yesterday. So there will be a ball instead. It must, however, have your approval.”
“I am holding my breath,” Stephanie said. “Please, Pippa?Please,Lucas?”
A wedding ball.Oh goodness.
And Philippa realized in a rush how much she had been suppressing a certain disappointment at having had to sacrifice the large wedding she had always dreamed of—except during those dark years when she had not dreamed at all. She knew she would always remember yesterday as a day that had been very nearly perfect in every way. But... Oh, was she really going to havea ballin honor of her wedding after all? InLondonduring theSeason?
Her eyes flew to Lucas’s face. She half expected to see him wincing at the very prospect. But he was looking steadily back at her with no discernible expression.
“What is your wish, Phil?” he asked her.
She smiled at him. “I say yes.”
“Then yes it is.” He looked as though he were smiling, but just for her. “On condition that there be at least one waltz and you promise it to me—now, before witnesses.”
“I will.” She laughed, and he smiled for everyone to see. “But”—she turned her gaze upon her mother and Gwyneth—“everything will be dependent upon the Duke of Wilby’s health. He is still very weak.”
“Of course,” Gwyneth said.
“It would be unwise ever to underestimate my grandfather,” Lucas said. “He has promised to live to seemyheir, and I fully expect that he will.”
Luncheon was announced then, to Philippa’s relief. She could feel her cheeks turn hot. After the meal, Lucas disappeared with Devlin while the rest of them adjourned to the drawing room, where the ladies were soon in a huddle, discussing plans for the ball while the men talked politics.
Gwyneth ordered a tea tray to be brought in when Devlin and Lucas joined them about an hour later. But Devlin did not sit down. He asked for a word with Philippa and took her down to the library.He closed the door and reached immediately for her. He held her in a wordless hug for a full minute before he spoke.
“Lucas will tell you, Pippa,” he said, “that he wants nothing to do with your dowry, which is considerable, as you probably know. It will be held in trust for you and your children. It is no less than I would expect of any man who has the means to support you for the rest of your life in the manner to which you are accustomed. You are a wealthy woman in your own right, a fact that must give you comfort.”
“Yes,” she said. “But I trust my husband, Dev.”
“As it seems you ought,” he said. He drew a deep breath. “We really did not know our father very well at all, did we, Pippa? That he would consort with courtesans seemed like the end of the world when we first knew of it. But that he would ruin someone else’s marriage as well as his own... Well. There are no words.”
“The Marchioness of Roath was equally responsible for what happened,” Philippa said. “But we are privy only to the bare facts, Dev. We do not know all that lies behind them. I would really rather not stand in judgment.”
