Chadbourn Park, September 1817
Will’s joy in his friends warmed Catherine’s heart. Married these eight months she still couldn’t take her eyes off him. Her good fortune left her overwhelmed with gratitude and astonishment that this great and good man was hers.
Huddled by the windows in the family parlor at Chadbourn Park, Will and his boyhood friends had been regaling the boys with outrageous tales of their school days for an hour, reducing them to laughter and encouraging them in their immanent departure for Harrow. Even Glenaire had joined in, though he now sat listening, with a sardonic lift of his eyebrow while Jamie Heyworth, the wild former cavalry officer, expounded on a rather mischievous episode.
Perhaps that particular story wasn’t one the boys should hear. Her eyes met Will’s, and she raised a brow. In the months since their marriage, they had perfected the art of silent communication. He leaned in and diverted the story.
“Nicely done.”
Catherine turned to the woman who spoke, shyness tying her tongue. Georgiana Mallet, more properly Lady Georgiana was a duke’s daughter, Glenaire’s sister. She possessed the same fine white-blond hair and piercing blue eyes. Where he was icy reserve, however, his sister’s gentle warmth showed promise of friendship.
The two women sat across the room, with a splendid tea service laid out in front of them.
“Marriage is a miracle,” Georgiana went on. “One raised brow, and he does your bidding.” Her smile was wistful, no doubt influenced by her own recent marriage, or perhaps her blossoming pregnancy. “Andrew is the same.”
Catherine followed Georgiana’s gaze where it fell on her husband. Andrew Mallet was the one member of the friendship circle who had not attended Catherine’s wedding. She had met him only the day before. Dark haired, his brown eyes bright with intelligence and curiosity behind gold-rimmed spectacles, a visage marred by an ugly scar that slashed across his face. Mallet also walked with a pronounced limp, a reminder of Waterloo. Catherine found it hard to reconcile tales of his military exploits with the quiet intellectual who had come to visit. His affection for his wife was palpable.
“Why wasn’t Andrew at my wedding?” Catherine blushed at the intrusive question. She hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but the thought had plagued her since she first watched the four men together.
“Richard attempted to separate us. He engineered it so that Andrew was excluded.”
Catherine had a hard time thinking of Glenaire as Richard, but she could well believe him capable of manipulation. “I think he told Will that Andrew’s injuries prevented him from travel. No invitation was sent.”
“More likely waylaid by my brother. He overstepped, of course. It was one of Richard’s ham-handed attempts to protect me. He headed off a confrontation with my parents who had been invited, while attempting to convince me they would never tolerate the relationship, something I knew well already.”
Catherine smiled. “It obviously didn’t work. Having met your mother?—”
“Met or collided with?” Georgiana asked, with a sigh.
“She terrified me at the wedding. I’ve come to wonder at your brother’s attachment to Will and the others.” Catherine blushed. “I’m sorry. Perhaps I…”
“Don’t apologize. Our parents believe us to be superior to everyone in England except the royal princes, and even those they find questionable. My brother, to his credit refuses to let them choose his friends. Richard respects Will above all men he knows. Jamie and Andrew by extension. Thank goodness; they keep him human.”
Catherine studied the men, bending now toward whatever anecdote Andrew was relating.
“Has Will told you how they met?” Georgiana asked.
Catherine shook her head, reminded once more that the older woman herself had known them all as boys. “Not in detail. Something about school.”
“It was Will who brought them together. Richard and Andrew were a few years ahead at school and had a polite relationship, but my brother tended to keep to himself. One afternoon he heard a ruckus in the yard, and came out to find Will standing alone facing several of the school’s nastier bullies—be warned, Catherine, every school has them. Will was smaller and Richard assumed he was the target of the bullying. He quickly realized, however that, far from being a victim, Will had taken on the group alone. He had pushed behind him another little boy, a scholarship student, always despised by the sons of privilege, and was ordering them to disperse. Richard said it was the bravest act he ever witnessed.”
Catherine swelled with pride, but no surprise at her husband’s courage. “What did Glenaire do?”
Georgiana took a sip of her tea. “He came and stood behind Will. In those days he would have towered over him, and he turned the Hayden glare on the pack. It ought to have been enough, but to his stunned surprise Andrew appeared at his side, the two of them stood shoulder to shoulder behind Will. Andrew was himself a scholarship student, and he had made his way and earned respect by the force of his intellect. He had the headmaster’s ear. The bullies began to back away.”
“But what of Jamie? How did he enter into this group?” Catherine asked, curious now. Jamie Heyworth, a baron’s fun-loving son, seemed an odd addition.
Georgiana grinned. “That’s the most interesting detail. Jamie had been one of younger members of the bullying bunch. When the others began to back away, he stood his ground. After a moment he stepped forward and shook Will’s hand, saying bravery impressed him. I don’t know what else was said, but the four have been fast friends ever since.”
Catherine shook her head.
Georgiana went on. “Jamie used to say it taught him to choose his friends more wisely. Your boys are already fast friends—or cousins I gather. It will serve them well. The little duke admires your brothers.”
“Charles has come far since he fell under Will’s guidance. Will has been a blessing on them all. He is a superb uncle,” Catherine said.
“He’ll be a wonderful father,” Georgiana murmured.
Catherine blushed and gazed at her hands.
