Leonard penned a quick letter to Honora, letting her know of his change in plans with his family arriving unexpectedly. He did his best to assure her that he had every intention of calling on her as soon as he could, especially after the tumultuousness of the previous night.
The evening with his family passed with a tenseness Leonard had not felt since living under the same roof as them. Aftertheir meal, Samuel read aloud for a time, and then his parents claimed fatigue and stood to retire.
“Leonard,” his father said, pausing beside him. “I need to discuss something with you in the study.”
Leonard sucked his lip in but nodded and followed. He really should have expected this, so he wasn’t quite sure why it bothered him so much.
His father shut the door behind them, then made his way to the desk. He leaned against the front of it, arms crossed. “Is there any update regarding your marital state?”
Leonard wanted to scoff—to refuse to answer. But after their last discussion, he feared that withholding information would put an unnecessary strain on Samuel to enter the marriage mart. If he wished it for himself, then that was one thing. But never had he made such desires known, if he indeed had them.
“I don’t have particulars for you, other than there is a young woman I am speaking with. The woman I had told you about before.”
His father’s brow scrunched before he seemed to consider Leonard’s words. He nodded. “Very well. That seems prudent. As long as you don’t cry off.”
Leonard turned to leave, assuming that was the extent of their discussion, but once his grip closed on the handle, his father’s voice stopped his retreat.
“Why did you ask Samuel to come to London without us?”
Dropping his hand, Leonard turned back. “Is that something you really need to ask?”
“I am only surprised. You know your mother wouldn’t allow it.”
“I had hoped she would this time. Samuel is a grown man, in case neither of you have realized that.”
“He is ill,” his father said, his face flushing and voice rising.
“He is stronger than you think,” Leonard replied, his voice rising to match his father’s.
The door opened, and his mother came in, then shut the door behind her. “Goodness, you two. Please lower your voices.”
“We are not so loud as to bother the neighbors, Mother,” Leonard said, scuffing a hand along his jaw. He didn’t want them here. All he desired was to have Samuel with him and to let him be for a week or two. To let his brother relax without the constant fussing and worrying of his mother, or without the indifferent air of their father. It was supposed to be the two of them, talking and laughing. Going out on occasion. Something to bring Samuel some joy.
His mother shook her head. “I am not worried about the neighbors. I am worried hearing you two arguing will be strenuous on Samuel.”
Leonard’s mouth fell open, and his eyes swung between his parents, perched on opposite sides of him. “You cannot be serious.”
“Dr. Francis said that undue stress could worsen his health.”
“And how has Dr. Francis’s other tactics worked in the past?”
“He is alive,” his father bit out.
Leonard rolled his eyes.
“You really should consider what is best for your brother, Leonard,” his mother pressed. “Inviting him to come by himself was rather selfish of you. You know he would do so to please you, and that could have been very dangerous.”
“You think him incapable of a thirty-minute drive in a family carriage?” Leonard propped his hands on his hips and threw his head back. He then drew a hand to his face and used his thumb and finger to pinch the bridge of his nose.
His father took a breath. “Well, at the very least, we have some good news. Leonard has found a wife at last.”
Mother hesitated, but eventually put a hand to her chest, nodding. “That is good. One less thing to worry about.”
Leonard clenched his jaw as he glanced between his parents. If he didn’t leave now, he was bound to say something rash. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” He strode to the door, forcing himself to open it calmly and gently shut it behind him.
Chapter Twenty-Five
His family was quiet in their carriage the next evening. Mother fussed over Samuel as he sat, pulling out a blanket and draping it over his lap. Samuel said nothing, but his face spoke volumes.
