I couldn’t hide the small smile as I took my seat. It would read as smug to Agatha. Therewasa hint of smugness there but warmth too, affection for my husband.
I was delighted to find my favorite of Mrs. Hudson’s soups set before me, the earliest of fall squash and comforting spices was a far better homecoming than I could have expected, especially with so little notice.
Glancing up, Hugh was watching me with an interest that my dining did not usually warrant. It was slightly unnerving.
I seemed to have broken my husband in my absence. Gone was the disinterest and obliviousness, in its place I seemed to find evaluating looks and captivated expressions. I thought it might be an improvement. At the moment, it was warming something high in my chest, near my heart. The newfound interest may suffer from brevity, but there was only one way to know.
Seeming to realize the staring was disquieting and a silent dinner was dull, Hugh asked, “How did you leave your sister? She is recovering well from the birth?”
“Yes, quite well. She was ready to have me out from underfoot. It seems I’ve become quite redundant in my absence.”
“I’m certain no one could ever find you expendable,” he said.
“She is not one to mince words. I think, should you ever meet, she would be more than willing to list the ways in which I am superfluous.”
“I would like that. Not the discussion of your superfluousness, of course. I meant meeting your sister… Is the babe quite well?” Hugh spoke quickly, correcting himself almost before he had finished the sentence.
“Oh yes! Elliot, the grumpy old man, is perfect. Ten fingers and toes all accounted for.”
“Grumpy old man?”
“He’s, uh, not the cutest babe I’ve ever seen,” I said, sheepish for insulting an infant.
Hugh covered his snort behind a napkin, feigning a cough. “Oh dear, I hope you did not tell your sister that.”
“She is the one responsible for the moniker. She is not overly sentimental. That is why she was so comfortable labeling me as underfoot and sending me on my way.”
Agatha chose that moment to cut in, reminding us of her presence. “I sympathize with her desire for you to be elsewhere. It is a family trait, I presume. Ugly offspring.” Unable to resist twisting the knife, she continued, “I do hope any children from your marriage take after my son.”
I was at something of a loss, floundering for redress for the sheer number of insults inherent in that speech. That was when Hugh surprised me, catching my gaze before replying simply, “I don’t.”
“What?” she asked, startled.
“I don’t. I hope they look like Kate. With big, blue-green eyes, and her pretty curls.”
Oh.Oh my.
That was a worry I hadn’t even recognized in myself. I studiously avoided thoughts of our future children in all but the most abstract sense. The flicker of warmth in my chest burned hotter, affection blooming for this man. His eyes never left mine; his expression one of perfect sincerity. He hadn’t been considering our children in the abstract. He had been picturing them. And he had been imagining them with my features. Best of all, instead of finding them wanting, he wanted them.
Abruptly, my vision blurred, tears filling my eyes. I swallowed back the lump in my throat. Hugh began to rise but I shook my head, urging him to stay seated. If he reached my side the tears would be unstoppable, of that I was certain.
My revelation was interrupted by the arrival of the roasted duck, another of my favorites. It, too, was perfectly seasoned and tender. Agatha had made her dislike of duck plain; it was a wonder Mrs. Hudson was able to prepare it so quickly.
Hugh, again, shocked me with his interest. “Your parents, I hope you left them in good health?” The question wasn’t perfunctory, there was nothing but sincerity in his countenance.
“Oh yes, they’re both thrilled to have another grandchild to dote upon. I do not think any of the elder children went without a sweet for more than a quarter of an hour between the two of them.”
“I know the weather will turn soon, so perhaps next summer they will be able to visit. After the planting?”
“Be careful what you offer, my lord. You may never get my father out of the library.”
“If that becomes an issue, we may send him over to see Michael and Juliet. Their library will certainly surpass ours by the summer. Particularly if what I have seen of their efforts is any indication.”
“You’ve been to see them?”
“Yes, the renovations on Revello House are coming along nicely. They’re deliriously happy as well. I am glad they were able to find a path through their difficulties.” His gaze was significant, willing me to understand.
Agatha interrupted before I could reply, “A path through their difficulties? Honestly, Hugh, what is going on in your head? That chit has ruined herself and is forever saddled with a no-good, swindling, bastard. She has doomed not only herself, but her children, and her children’s children. Honestly, I am ashamed to have had her in my home.”
