Kate considered Michael for a moment, weighing the implied compliment against the attempted foiling of her schemes.
I took a sip of the wine to help choke down a bite of the goose. The new cook had nothing on the recently retired Mrs. Hudson, and that was a loss for the entire family.
“How is little Henry faring? Still teething?” Juliet asked brightly. My chuckle was difficult to trap, but I managed it. I was good at deflecting uncomfortable conversations, but Juliet was asavant. Nothing would distract Kate like her son.
“Yes, I’m afraid. He’s been miserable, the poor dear.”
Hugh cut in, adding, “He said his first word yesterday.Papa.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kate retorted. “He saidpatwice.”
“Precisely. Papa,” Hugh explained proudly.
“So he said a nonsense syllable twice in a row?” Michael’s smirk was pleased. His wife caught the edge of her lip between her teeth, biting back her own an amused grin.
“It waspapa.”
“I think his first word wasKit,” the man himself explained. “He saidkilast week. That’s clearly a reference to his favorite uncle.”
“Take that back,” I replied with no severity. In truth, I could not be more pleased that Henry would have his pick of favorite uncles, all worthy of the title. Though, of course, none so worthy as me.
“Yes, you’re all wonderful uncles,” Jules added. “But I think the important part is that there is no question of who is the favorite auntie.” Once again putting an end to what was sure to have been a half-hearted but not entirely unserious argument.
I tipped my glass of wine toward her before taking a sip. She shifted in her seat, a prim, silent acknowledgment of my compliment.
“At least until one of those two finds it within himself to bring home a wife,” Kate added.
“You think anyone could replace me as Henry’s favorite auntie?” Juliet asked in mock offense. “Nay, that would be impossible.”
“Of course not. Besides, he’ll probably be a man grown before either one of them deigns to offer for a woman.”
Juliet’s bright sapphire eyes met mine with something like discomfiture. Not for the first time since the masquerade, I wondered how much she knew. “I, for one, would not adore either of them a jot less for it.” Her gaze flicked to Kate. “You should not try to rush these things.”
“I’m not.”
“I saw you at the masquerade. You were very much doing precisely that.”
“I wasn’t! I could not even find Tom,” Kate complained.
If Juliet were so inclined, she could have given Michael a run at the card table. A sharper than usual blink was her only tell. “It was a successful evening, do you not think? Even if it didn’t end with any additional sisters-in-law,” she said.
“It certainly was,” Hugh added. “Do you think you will repeat it? Perhaps next year?”
“I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Though we may not be in a position to…” Michael said, trailing off with a significant glance at his wife as he caught her hand in his.
“We do have some news to share,” Juliet added quietly. “I am with child.”
Cheers of delight erupted around the table. The couple’s previous losses had been a poorly concealed secret, and therewasn’t a person present who could contain any pleasure for the couple.
I was ecstatic for them, truly. But there was also the sharp twinge in my chest when I caught the way they looked at each other—the way my cool, perpetually unaffected brother stared at his wife with naked adoration always left a confused swirl in my chest. A little sliver of envy crept in. A longing for a great love of my own that tarnished my joy just at the edges. I hated that part of myself.
My hand itched for a waist to settle upon affectionately, possessively. My lips longed for a private, special smile to share. My forehead craved a temple to rest upon, a place to lend strength.
And the man I wanted every single one of those things with didn’t even recognize me. That was the painful knot I had to swallow as I wished two of my favorite people in the world well deserved joy.
Nine
RYCLIFFE PLACE, LONDON- JUNE 13, 1816
