“Yes.” Demetrius leaned back as the soup bowls were removed and then the next course was placed before them.
“I assume you carry some of the same responsibility for your younger siblings.”
“When I was younger, yes, but once I was at school, I left the guidance to my aunt and uncle.”
She wanted to ask what had happened to his parents but feared that it might bring up painful memories. Instead, she asked after his siblings.
“There were ten of you, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me about them,” she said.
Demetrius took a sip of his wine before he spoke.
“There is little to tell. Benedick is an investigator with the Thames River Police. Orlando is a doctor. Mercutio had always been the fighter in the family and is a pugilist.”
She knew the name but had not made the connection previously. “Mercutio Valentine is your brother?”
“How do you know about pugilists?” He chuckled with his question.
Of course, a lady should not know about such, but ever since she had come across two boys fighting when she was a child herself, she had been interested in the sport. Not that ladies were allowed to attend events, but she learned what she could. “I have read his name in the newssheets and my younger brother has mentioned attending matches. He never wagers against your brother.”
“I am just happy that the aggression from his youth has earned him a career.” Demetrius chuckled.
“Did he fight so often when he was younger?”
“He did not like his sisters to be teased and took offense. I pulled him off many boys with bloodied noses.”
“Were they cruel boys?” she asked.
“They were boys who teased girls because they were too young to realize that one day they would grow up to find that girls can be very likeable.” He chuckled again.
At least his fists were used because he was protective and not because he was a violent person. “What of the others?”
“Petrucio enjoys the stage. He is an actor and often travels with a troupe,” he answered with a shake of his head.
“You do not approve?”
“It is not for me to approve or disapprove,” Demetrius answered. “So long as he is happy.”
Happy. Would her siblings be concerned if they learned that she was not?
Lavinia pushed the question aside. She did not want to think of them tonight.
“The next born was Rosalind and she married the Marquess of Felding a few years back. Bianca married the Duke of Roxburg this last spring and Isabella married Mr. Nathaniel Storm not long after.”
“The sons enjoy the career of their choice while your sisters did their duty.” It was the same no matter the circumstances of one’s birth. The woman was always expected to marry.
“Duty had nothing to do with their marriages,” he insisted. “Rosalind was quite happy as a governess, Bianca is a pianist and had employment with a school of dance, and Isabella had found a place to work at a home for veterans injured in war. They were taken by surprise to fall in love and marry.”
“I am surprised that was even allowed—them having positions,” she clarified. How freeing it must have been to choose what one wished to do.
“I am afraid the entire family is stubborn and we do as we wish.” His warm brown eyes twinkled with humor in the candlelight and matched the low chuckle.
“That includes you?” she questioned.
“I am most determined in pursuing what I want.”
