“Of course, you are. Who will you drink and gamble with now?” Helen said coldly.
“I’m sure I’ll find someone. Don’t you worry, pretty girl?—”
“Don’t call me that.” Helen walked to the open door. “I’ll go inform the servants that we shall have a new countess.”
“Yes, we will,” his mother said, looking much younger than she had in years. “I never thought that one of my children would ever marry, but now I find myself giddy with the prospect of grandchildren.”
“Mother!” Hunt said, not believing she’d said those words out loud.
Grandchildren.
Dear God, did want beautiful children with Delia. They would have her skin, her fire, perhaps his brains.
“That is my signal to leave.” Reg pulled down his coat. “Will you give me a ride back home? I need to get some sleep.”
His friend seemed a bit out of sorts as he stood in front of Hunt and his mother.
“No, you take the carriage. I’m going to ride my horse to see Delia. Nearly a sennight in a carriage has me longing for horseback.”
“Very well. I suppose I’ll see you later?—”
“We will see you for dinner tonight, Reginald.” His mother pointed her cane at his friend. “We must celebrate Hunt and Adelia as a family, and like it or not, you are a part of this family.”
“Of course, Mother Wakefield.” Reg bowed before leaving the conservatory.
His mother let out a sigh of disappointment, her eyes still on the door that his friend had exited. “Please invite Miss St. George for dinner tonight.”
“I will.” He kissed her cheek before rushing to catch his friend.
Reg had reached the end of the long hall, and Hunt had to do a light trot in order to catch the other man. They were of similar height, but his friend, with his lithe build, was much faster than Hunt.
“I thought you were going to ride a horse?” Reg asked, his dark eyes grave.
“I wanted to check on you, you seemed out of sorts.” Hunt placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I won’t abandon you if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“No, it’s not that. I’m happy for you. I’m just a bit envious. Out of the two of us, I was the one who always wanted a wife and a family.” His friend hung his head.
“You can still have those things, Reg,” Hunt reminded him.
Reg shook his head. “No, I’ve only ever wanted to marry one person, and she doesn’t want me.” He lifted his head, and Hunt couldn’t ignore the mist in his gaze. “Go to your betrothed. Don’t waste your time on me.”
His friend strolled away in a melancholy blur. Sighing, Hunt went to the mews, passing happy servants, who were now bidding him congratulations.
His sister had wasted no time in alerting them.
The exceptionally warm March morning greeted him, and he couldn’t help but bounce all the way down to the stables. Walter and Sampson were in their usual spots, Sampson in his chair, Walter leaning against Molly’s stall.
“There he is! Back from being a hero,” Walter said, standing up straighter.
“There’s something different about you, mi’lord,” Sampson said, sitting forward.
Hunt shook his head, laughing at the two of them. “I’m getting married.”
“Left a bachelor and returned engaged!” Walter came to him, patting his back in congratulations. “Who is the lady?”
“I’ll bet my wages, it’s the chit that didn’t give him a proper introduction,” Sampson said, pointing an old finger at Hunt.
“Yes, it is the same lady that refused me.” He couldn’t help but think back on their first meeting. He could admit that he was arrogant then, but she had captivated him from the start.
