Mother laughs, startled, and Beth smiles. They watch as one of his hands abandons her shoulder to wrap around and rest on the prominent bump beneath her skirts. He’s so good to her—has been so good to her, steadfast and at her side through the panic of the past few months. But here they all are, happy, healthy, and with a joyful addition to the family firmly on the way.
She’s trying very hard not to think about the actual arrival. The story Mrs. Stelm told her about Gwen’s birth is still wrapped around her heart. If anything should happen to Mother—
“You’re sure you want to go through with this?”
“Do you truly think I can’t handle a simple ball?” Mother snips back.
“All right, all right,” Dashiell says, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
Beth forces her shoulders to come down. Everything’s fine. Mother looks elegant and radiant in her deep purple gown,adjusted for her growing stomach. Her dark curls are shinier than ever and her cheeks are plump with happiness.
Even if she and Gwen had decided they hated each other after all, Beth thinks all the scheming was worth it for the picture their parents make: luminously happy, unexpectedly expecting, and still utterly wild about each other through all of it.
“Our daughters’ penchant for messing about rather than getting ready aside,” Dashiell says, raising an eyebrow at them. Gwen simply shrugs and he rolls his eyes. “We still need to wait for the viscount, don’t we?”
“Yes,” Mother agrees, leaning back against Dashiell and sighing in relief. “He’s late.”
“He’s young,” Dashiell argues.
“Beth was never late,” Mother says.
“Yes, well, that was because of you, not any natural punctuality on my part,” Beth says.
“And James isn’t a presenting debutante,” Dashiell adds. “He can be as late as he likes and still be desirable.”
“Fat lot of good that does us though. By that token we’ll be dirt beneath everyone’s shoes if he’s much later,” Gwen says.
Beth elbows her but Dashiell just laughs. “Are you trying to attract a wealthy suitor?” he asks.
“No,” they say together, giggling as Dashiell and Mother shake their heads.
“Then it doesn’t matter. However, if either of you should meet a gentleman you think might support your life together, we of course will support that,” Dashiell adds.
Beth nods, meeting her mother’s eyes. Mother winks at her and Beth leans into Gwen as much as she can. Gwen’s fingers tangle through her own. She takes a deep breath.
“I doubt we’ll find someonethatopen-minded, but thank you,” Gwen replies for them both.
“You never know,” Dashiell says as a knock reverberates through the foyer. “I didn’t think I’d end up a father again.”
“Yes, some hardship for you,” Mother says, groaning as Dashiell gently pushes her back upright to answer the door. “Be nice to your cousin,” she adds as Beth and Gwen approach her.
“We’re never anything but delightful,” Gwen protests and Beth laughs.
“Of course you are,” Mother says, letting Gwen take her elbow with her free hand. “But I meant Beth. It’s not his fault he inherited our estate.”
“I don’t want it anyway,” Beth insists, even as a small part of her gut twists at the thought. He’s only been in residence for about a month, but it does still rankle.
It’s not like they would have kept living in the townhouse, or the northern estate, anyway. But the entire ordeal of handing everything over—of forfeiting their entire life and property simply because he came of age—it just has never sat right with her. They haven’t seen him since he arrived in London, and he was a gawky, awkward thing last year when they met at Mother’s wedding. And now they’re meant to help him find a bride. Like either of them has the slightest idea of how to succeed at the marriage market.
Gwen squeezes her hand. She supposes that’s not really true. They did succeed, rather spectacularly, all of them. Just... not in a way anyone else would respect. Their reputations have survived, but only just. Really, arriving with them is going to drag James down more than anything else.
“Cousin.”
Beth and Gwen stop cold as a tall, broad-shouldered young man bows to them on the front steps. When he stands up, Beth can’t help but gape. Gone is the acne and ungainly height. James has filled out into his figure. He’s still a touch awkward and long limbed, but it’s offset by his strong jaw and beautiful sandy-brown hair and blue eyes.
He’s handsome. Truly handsome. A man, now.
“You grew up nicely,” Gwen says.
