Timothy grabbed Clarissa’s hand and bounded through the shop door with her in tow.
Mr. Honeyfield greeted them as they entered, dusting the wood shavings of his latest creation from his canvas apron. “Timothy, Lord Whitcomb! My very best customers. How delightful to see you both!”
Crouching down so that his round spectacles were level with Timothy’s eyes, Mr. Honeyfield asked, “And who is this you’ve brought with you today, young man?”
Timothy giggled and squeezed Clarissa’s hand. “This is my new mama, Lady Clarissa Whitcomb.”
The old man’s busy white eyebrows raised. “Lady Clarissa? The Duke of Wellington’s daughter?” He peered up atClarissa. “I seem to recall you were once very fond of stuffed bunnies, just like this little fellow here. You wanted company for your pet rabbit. What was his name?”
David was doing a very poor job of holding in his laughter. “Mr. Bunnykins, perhaps?”
His wife turned the most adorable shade of pink. “Yes, that’s me. And I’ll have you know Mr. Fluffy, Miss Cottontail, and Lady Rabbiton were the best friends Mr. Bunnykins could ever have.”
“You like bunnies too?” Timothy hugged her arm so hard that it was a wonder she didn’t fall over.
She grinned and wrinkled her nose. “Love them.”
“My new mama is the best mama there is!”
Mr. Honeyfield patted Timothy’s cheek and stood up. “Felicitations on your nuptials, my lady. Don’t let this grump fool you.” He pointed his thumb at David. “He has a heart of gold.”
No, he didn’t. He had a heart of flesh and blood just like anyone else’s, and it was beating fit to burst as he gazed at his beautiful family.
“Thank you, Mr. Honeyfield. He does.” Clarissa smiled at the elderly toymaker and nodded her head. “Now, Timothy, what shall I buy you today?”
Timothy dragged Clarissa off to explore the shop, breathlessly describing every item they passed as if she couldn’t see it with her own eyes.
David laughed and shook his head. “I should just hand you all the money I have right now. I’m certain she’s going to buy him half the store.”
Mr. Honeyfield chuckled. “Just likeyoudo every time you come in here? You truly are my best customers. I took my wife on holiday to Bath last month, thanks to you. I’m very grateful for your continued custom.”
“Mmm.” David pretended to be rueful, but he was in heaven watching Timothy drag Clarissa around the shop. When they’d left after spending approximately twice what he’d planned, and Timothy proudly riding his new hobby horse, David wasn’t sorry in the least.
Later that afternoon, he settled into the new, pale blue armchair Clarissa had purchased for the drawing room and put up his feet. She’d been remarkably efficient at replacing the baroque monstrosities that used to furnish the space. The hideous wallpaper still remained, but the room had already brightened with her additions. He picked up one of her outlandish novels,The Redemption of Rodolfo, and began to read. The hero was about to rescue a much-beleaguered heroine who was dangling from the side of a moving carriage when a quiet snicker made him look up.
“Interesting choice of reading.” Charles settled onto the new chesterfield with his usual insouciant grin. “Lady Whitcomb’s recommendation?”
“I’m an invalid. I’m allowed to read whatever I want.” This was far more interesting than the books on crop rotation and animal husbandry he usually read. “After all that has transpired, I deserve a little fun.”
“Do my ears deceive me, or did my big brother just defend a man’s right to fun?” Charles crossed his arms and leaned forward with the most irritating, self-satisfied smirk that David had ever seen.
“You think me incapable of fun?” David put down the book and sat up straight, glaring at his brother with all the stern censure he could summon.
Charles guffawed. “Yes, indeed I did. At least until Lady Clarissa joined our happy little family.”
The breathy insinuation in his brother’s tone as he mentioned Clarissa made David want to jump up and grab therogue by the lapels. Unfortunately, his injury prevented any such thing, so he had to settle for scowling. “I won’t hear a word against my wife, you unrepentant scapegrace.”
Holding up his hands, Charles made a conciliatory moue. “Au contraire, mon frere, I like your wife. I think she’s done worlds of good for you.” His brother’s expression turned serious. “For all of us, really.”
David frowned. “Oh? What has Clarissa done for you?”
Charles stared down at the carpet, a sudden vulnerability in his usually cynical expression. “She introduced me to someone who may be able to help me turn over a new leaf. I’d like to, you know. You may not believe me, but I’m tired of my dissolute life. I’ve harmed the people I care about most.” He glanced up at David and then back down at the carpet. “I don’t know how to change, but perhaps the man she introduced me to can show me the path.”
That was all rather mysterious, but David sensed that this moment of uncharacteristic candor mattered. He needed to respond carefully. “I’m happy to hear you’ve found someone you trust. I know I’m hard on you sometimes, but it’s only because I care a great deal. If there’s anything I can do to help, you have only to ask.”
“Thank you, but this is something I need to do for myself. I’m a grown man. I shouldn’t still be relying on my big brother to get me out of scrapes.”
If David thought his heart was full before, his brother’s quiet commitment made it overflow. His voice was rough with affection as he said, “I respect that, and I wish you well.”
