If anyone was going to return, he had hoped that it would be Marcus, but his brother had yet to make an appearance.
“You and Kingsley were not together?” Victor asked.
“I, um…no. I was off to visit friends in Bath. He, um…frankly, I don’t know where he was.”
“You had already visited Bath,” Kingsley said as he came down the stairs.
“Yes, um…well, I returned.”
“I don’t wish to know why you were there anymore than I want to know about anything else you do.” His eyes bore into hers. “I know quite enough already.”
Perhaps the two were at odds. It wouldn’t surprise Victor, especially if Kingsley cut off the purse strings.
“Good to see you, Blackmar,” Kingsley said as he joined the family.
“Kingsley.” Victor nodded.
“Dinner is served,” the butler announced. Victor didn’t wait on his family and marched into the dining room. He was starving and he wanted to quit the table as quickly as possible.
While they ate, his sister prattled on about the friends that she had seen in Bath and the assemblies she had attended and provided her mother with the latest gossip.
Kingsley drank and stared at his wife. There wasn’t even a hint of warmth.
Suddenly Maria brightened. “Did you know that Victor owns a Charles Thorn?”
Victor narrowed his eyes on his sister. There was only one way his sister could know such a thing. “When were you in my set of rooms, Maria.”
Her eyes grew wide, and she blinked at him. She had been up to no good, but Victor would wait for her response.
“I entered the wrong chamber. I had not meant to intrude.”
It was a lie, but he let it pass. “The painting was a gift from my wife.”
At the mention of Charlotte, Maria’s face hardened. “Of course it was.” Then she tilted her head. “How did she manage to come by it? I did not think she left that provincial village. Further, how couldsheknow anything about art?”
“My wife is quite knowledgeable on many matters,” he answered, secretly pleased that his sister was jealous of something he possessed.
“It is simply not fair,” Maria whined, then took a drink of her wine. “All that wealth, and art, is wasted on her.”
Victor glared at Maria, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“If you would bring the painting to London and display it in our townhome, we would be the envy of everyone.” She smiled. “It would be perfect in the parlor, then I would invite everyone to tea, and they would be so jealous.”
“A commoner should not have so much, nor should her merchant father be allowed to ruin the lives of those of privilege,” her mother argued.
Victor grew tired of this argument. Charlotte’s father took advantage of the privileged because they could not control their excessive and expensive habits.
“All I can hope is that she doesn’t birth any sons, and that Marcus marries well so that there is an heir of good breeding.”
Victor stared at his mother, unable to believe that she would wish such on anyone, let alone his wife.
He nearly informed her that Charlotte would deliver her first grandchild in approximately six months, hopefully a son, just to irritate her, but decided to say nothing. He was thrilled that he and Charlotte were going to have a child and he didn’t want his family sucking the joy when there should be celebration. And, given how his mother felt about Charlotte increasing, he might not tell her at all until he sent an announcement of his or her birth.
“I am in no hurry to wed Mother.” Victor glanced up to find Marcus leaning against the door to the dining room.
It was good to see him, and Victor looked forward to visiting with his brother.
Maria blew out a breath and nearly rolled her eyes. “Ah, the favorite returns.” Maria glared at Marcus. “I am certain you will be showered with wealth now that you are home.”
