He... wants a family. Not one born of himself, he doesn’tthink. Though occasionally when he thinks of having a son of his own, one he could love and support, rather than belittle, he thinks perhaps he could survive a traditional marriage. But then all the butterflies he feels for Mason, all the longing and want and—
“Uncle!”
James bumps into Lord Mason as they cascade onto the street in the wave of lords leaving the chamber. He can see Lord Havenfort just to their left, his blond head high above the rest. He stops moving and Lord Mason leads James by his suit cuff to join Lord Havenfort at the side of the wrought-iron fence.
“That was amazing,” Lord Mason tells Lord Havenfort.
Lord Havenfort gives him an honest, if exhausted, smile. Up close, Lord Havenfort’s eyes are rimmed with purple, and it looks like perhaps either Lady Gwen or MissBertram put some kind of rouge on him to make him look less... sleep deprived.
“Truly,” James adds quickly. “And congratulations on the baby, sir. Please pass my regards on to your wife.”
“I will,” Lord Havenfort says, reaching out to pat his shoulder. “Thank you both for your hard work. We may just pass this thing yet.”
“If there’s a single lord in opposition after that speech, I’ll eat one of Meredith’s hats,” Lord Mason says.
Lord Havenfort laughs. “Don’t be too hasty with your assurances, Albert. But thank you. Now, I must get home. Be safe, both of you.”
With that, he turns and nearly jogs down the street, back to his beautiful family. James looks up at Lord Mason to find him watching his uncle wistfully.
“How is your wife, Mason? I haven’t asked in too long,” James says.
Lord Mason blinks and looks down at him. “She’s doing better, actually,” he says with a small smile. “Not quite well enough to travel yet, but hopefully soon. I’m planning to bring Beth and Gwen up to the country for a week’s visit on the weekend. As much for Meredith as to get them out of Uncle Dashiell and Aunt Cordelia’s hair. Would you like to join us?”
He doesn’t even think about it. “I would, thank you. I’ll meet you at the Havenfort residence?”
“That would be splendid,” Lord Mason says. He and Mason have the same bright smile. “I’ll send you the details. Meredith will be very glad to meet you—I’ve told her all about you.”
James watches Lord Mason walk off, a spring in his step. James stares after him, a slow blooming panic coming over his chest. He just— But that means he’ll be in the country for a week with Mason, for the first time they will have seen each other since...friends.
He can’t tell if the irregular patter of his heart is excitement or terror.
Chapter Seventeen
Bobby
“You’ve already had ten minutes—it’s my turn.”
“MissWilson is next, actually,” Mrs.Gilpe says, passing baby Frederic over to an already cooing MissWilson.
“You’re a horrid woman,” Mrs.Stelm says, even as she settles onto the arm of Mrs.Gilpe’s armchair, the two of them watching MissWilson babble down at baby Frederic.
The doorbell rings and Bobby, Gwen, Beth, Uncle Dashiell, Albie, and Aunt Cordelia, seated around the low table, all look toward the hall.
“One of you will have to get it, we’re watching the most important member of the family,” MissWilson says from her seat in the corner by the fire. “Baby Frederic forbids us to leave.”
“I’ll go,” Bobby says, smiling as Beth and Gwen laugh on either side of Aunt Cordelia.
All three women look rather exhausted, even with their housekeeper and lady’s maids monopolizing the baby. He hasn’t experienced it himself, but he knows babies disrupt the entire house, if you care about them at all. They could be leaving his care entirely to their staff, but in the Havenfort home? Hardly likely. From what he’s heard, it’s been a fight each evening for who gets to bring Aunt Cordelia the baby to nurse.
Bobby heads for the front door as the doorbell chimes again.It makes him wistful, all this joy. Makes him wish there had been another little Mason baby, before his mother passed away.
He’s decided he quite likes babies, even if they are messy, and sometimes smelly. Sitting and watching Frederic make a small face or successfully wave his fist into his mouth is entrancing.
Bobby pulls open the door just as the doorbell chimes a third time. James Demeroven stands on the front stoop, hat beneath his arm and sandy-brown hair falling into his eyes. He’s in a new gray traveling suit, nicely tailored, and he looks at Bobby, equally at sea.
Bobby’s not sure why it’s caught him in the chest to see him on the doorstep, other than... they haven’t seen each other in nearly two weeks, not since the stag night, andfriends.
“Do... you and the girls need more time?” Demeroven asks.
