James and Tony, those rogues, had interrupted repeatedly with droll comments about Christopher Malory, whom they had immediately likened to Jason. Jason had sat through the entire reading in pensive silence, not even bothering to scold his younger brothers for their drollery.
Amy's mother Charlotte had been unable to sit for such long periods, and so like her other daughters, she decided to read the journal some other time. But her father, Edward, had stayed for all of the readings, and now came to kiss her brow before he took himself off to bed,
"I don't look like her, as you do," he told Amy. "But like you, I used to wonder why I was always such a good judge of people. That 'insight,' if you want to call it that, is what has aided my investments and made this family incredibly rich. But never being wrong makes one feel deuced unusual, indeed it does. Glad to know I'm not the only strange one. Indeed, much nicer to know there's a good reason why we've been so fortunate in our many endeavors."
Amy was amazed. Her father might have been the most jovial and gregarious in the family, but he was also the most pragmatic and realistic. She would have thought he'd be the last one to believe in a Gypsy's gift.
Reggie, the only one close enough to have heard Edward's quiet remarks to his daughter, said with a grin, "Don't count yourself short, Uncle Edward. It still takes a certain genius to build the financial empire that you have. Being able to accurately judge the people you invest with helps, certainly, but you still did the picking and choosing. Now, look at me. Like Amy, I took after her in looks, yet I didn't inherit any of these other gifts."
Edward chuckled at her. "I don't mind sharing the credit, puss. And don't be too sure you didn't inherit any gifts. Gypsy charm works its own magic. And have you yet to be wrong in any of your matchmaking endeavors?"
Reggie blinked. "Well, no, come to think of it, I haven't." And then she beamed. "Oh, just wait till I tell Nicholas that he never stood a chance, once I decided to matchmake myself to him."
Reggie's husband had gone to bed several hours ago, simply too tired to stay up to hear the "ending." But the others in the room heard her delighted remark and started commenting, some with humor, some quite appalled . . .
Like Travis, who quickly said, "Just keep those matchmaking tendencies of yours away from me, cousin. I'm not ready to wear the shackles just yet."
"I am," Marshall said, smiling at her. "So do feel quite free to make me your next project."
"Never really thought of it before, but the dear puss really has had quite a hand in matchmaking a lot of us, myself included," Anthony put in. "She did fill my Roslynn's pretty head with nothing but good things about me, expounding on all my good qualities."
"That must have been bloody hard to do," James remarked dryly. "Considering how few good qualities you possess, old man."
"Look who's talking." Anthony snorted. "Can't imagine what George ever saw in you. But then she has come to her senses, hasn't she?"
That was hitting rather low, considering it was quite a raw spot for James at the moment, that Georgina still wouldn't talk to him about what was really bothering her, and their bedroom door was still being locked tight against him—especially since Anthony was having no such extended difficulties with his own wife.
So it wasn't the least bit surprising that James replied, albeit with his usual lack of expression, ''That black eye of yours is starting to fade, brother. Remind me to rectify that in the morning."
"Not bloody likely. I'll be catching up on quite a bit of lost sleep tomorrow, if it's all the same to you," Anthony retorted.
James merely smiled. "It's not. And do be assured that I can wait until you've caught up. Wouldn't want you in less than top form."
Chagrined, Anthony mumbled, "You're all heart, you bloody ass."
"I'd prefer you two did not go at it again," Jason said as he stood up to take himself off to bed. "Sets a had example for the children."
"Quite right," Anthony agreed with a grin, then to James, "At least some of the elders around here are possessed of wisdom."
Considering James was Anthony's elder by a year, there was little doubt that Anthony was getting in yet another subtle dig against him. James might have let it pass if his mood hadn't gone sour with the reminder that his wife was still annoyed with him.
"Which is fortunate," James said, giving his brother a sage nod. "Since some of the infants around here are possessed of none a'tall."
Derek, standing next to his father and seeing one of his stern frowns forming, whispered aside to him, "You know once they get started like that, there's no stopping them. Might as well ignore them. I get the feeling it's going to continue like this until Aunt George is smiling again."
Jason sighed and replied in an equally soft whisper, "I suppose I should have a talk with her. From what I've heard, her anger seems quite overdone."
"It does, don't it? Seems to indicate there might be something else that's put the bee in her bonnet, that she ain't fessing up to."
"You've hit the nail squarely. But James has already come to that conclusion himself—not that it's helped any."
"Obviously, since he still ain't himself. Course, he never is, when he and George are having a tiff."
"Are any of us?"
Derek chuckled, likely remembering some of his own tiffs with Kelsey. "Good point. Deuced hard to analyze the situation when you're knee-deep in the doldrums."
Jason was ready to conclude that that might have been his own problem where Molly was concerned. The logic she had always used on him, while valid, always made him rage inwardly that it was valid. The situation, as it had stood, was frustrating beyond endurance, and who could think clearly mired in such emotional muck? Yet he now had hope, thanks to his grandmother's amazing gift.
