“Idolike the eldest daughter,” his mother said as they turned onto the path to her cottage. “Winifred. She is different from what I expected. There is no glamor there, is there? But she seems a very sensible young lady and endlessly patient with all those children. Is Owenreallyinterested in her, Nicholas? Inthatway, I mean. Kitty seems to think so. Does he mean to marry her? Although my acquaintance with her has been very brief so far, it seems to me she might be just the sort of woman he needs.”
“I am not privy to his plans, Mama,” Nicholas said. “But they certainly became close friends in a very short time in London, and he seems pleased that she is here.”
“Then I will hope for a happy outcome, whatever it is,” she said. “And Miss Haviland will be here tomorrow with General and Mrs. Haviland. A renowned beauty, from all I have heard. You must be longing to see her again. Will she suit you, Nicholas? I desperately want to see all my children settled happily, even while I try to keep myself and my hopes and opinions to myself. Without much success, I am afraid. Matthew laughs at me. Please ignore my questions.”
“It would really be too bad if I were to decide at this late date that she wouldnotsuit me,” Nicholas said. “I asked Devlin and Gwyneth to invite the Havilands here, and it must be clear to them—as well as to everyone else—that I could have only one possible motive for doing so. Ah, I see Matthew has arrived home before you.”
He was standing by the hollyhocks beside the red front door, smiling at their approach.
“The guests have arrived, then?” he said.
“In a great burst of numbers and energy,” the dowager countess said. “I am exhausted, Matthew. You will like them. Have you had a tiring day?”
They were beaming at each other, engrossed just like a pair of young lovers. Nicholas said a quick goodbye and strode back toward the house.
Yes, Miss Cunningham would suit Owen, he decided, though his brother showed little sign of being either smitten or ready yet to settle down. He seemed to be enjoying life too much, both the unpaid work part of it and the social part.
Wasshesmitten withhim? Nicholas rather hoped not. He did not want to see her hurt if she had pinned her expectations upon his brother’s coming up to scratch during the next couple of weeks.
Helikedher.
Chapter Seven
All was noise and merriment out on the wide lawn before the house the following afternoon when Nicholas stood at the drawing room window, watching and waiting for the arrival of General Haviland’s carriage.
Owen, his shirtsleeves rolled to the elbow, his coat abandoned on the grass, was kicking a ball around with some of the younger Cunningham children as well as Devlin’s three. All the youngsters seemed to be shrieking. Miss Cunningham was in their midst too, flushed and laughing, her hair less sleek than usual, as she helped the twins and three-year-old Awen connect with the ball instead of kicking into the wind as it sailed on by. Robbie was playing with his dog, which was trying to join in the game and bowl over the smaller children in its excitement.
Mama and Mrs. Cunningham stood talking at the edge of the terrace, though even as he watched, Mrs. Cunningham stopped the ball with her foot as it rolled her way and returned it with avigorous swing of her leg. Sarah and her father cheered encouragement to every child who needed it. He had one arm loosely about Andrew’s shoulders to include him with the group. The boy otherwise tended to stand alone with just his silent world for company, though interestingly enough, he never looked actively unhappy.
Nicholas could hear the noise of the children through the open windows of the drawing room and only wished he could go down and join in the fun. However, he owed it to the guests Gwyneth and Dev had invited at his request to appear to them as if their arrival was important to him—as indeed it was. It would not be at all the thing to greet them while panting and sweating in his shirtsleeves, his hair wild.
A watched pot, it was said, never boiled, and a watched-for carriage never arrived. It was impossible, of course, to predict the exact time a carriage coming all the way from London would arrive. But at last he saw it approaching, and he checked the folds of his neckcloth and brushed his hands down the sleeves of his coat.
“They are here,” he said.
Stephanie came to join him at the window. “I can hardly wait to meet Miss Haviland,” she said. “I hope we will be friends. Do you love her very dearly, Nick?”
His younger sister, still unmarried at the age of twenty-five, nevertheless was a hopeless romantic.
“I am looking forward to seeing her again,” he said.
She chuckled at the evasiveness of his answer. “It was a rhetorical question anyway,” she said. “You must love her or you would not have had her invited here.” She turned as Devlin and Gwyneth got to their feet to go downstairs to greet the new arrivals. Nicholas offered Stephanie his arm and followed them.
“Is she as beautiful as Aunt Kitty assured Mama she is?” she asked as they descended the stairs.
“You may judge for yourself in a moment,” he said.
“Aunt Kitty said you make a particularly handsome couple,” she said.
“Well.” He looked sidelong at her. “You have your answer, then. Is Aunt Kitty ever wrong?”
“Miss Haviland would have to be very beautiful indeed if she has attracted you, though,” Stephanie said. “You could have any woman you want, Nick—with the famous exception of Gwyneth, who preferred Dev.” She smiled impishly at him.
“Minx,” he said. “And of course I have been bravely nursing a broken heart ever since.”
They were on their way down the steps to the terrace. The general’s carriage was just drawing to a halt, and a groom was hurrying forward to open the door and set down the steps. The children were still at play, though Owen had rolled down his shirtsleeves and was shaking the grass off his coat before pulling it on and striding briskly up to the terrace. Mama had crossed it to wait at the bottom of the steps.
Houseguests were always given a warm welcome to Ravenswood by as many of the family as were in residence.
