Page 12 of A Rogue at Stonecliffe

“At least some of your instincts are close to the mark, then,” Sloane said.

“Mr. Rutherford. I am so glad you came.” The new bride swept in to join the tense trio before Annabeth could think of a cutting response. Noelle held the hand of a young boy. “Gil is very eager to say hello to you.”

Sloane turned to her, his face softening a little. “Thank you, Mrs. Thorne. I was honored to be invited.” His gaze went down to the boy who was impatiently tugging his hand from his mother’s. “Hello, Lord Drewsbury.”

Gil giggled and held out his hand to Sloane. “I remember you. You’re my cousin. Mama says you’re the only one I have.”

“I suppose I am.” Sloane squatted down beside him and shook the boy’s hand. “And you are my only cousin as well. I guess that means we should stick together, eh?”

Gil beamed and nodded enthusiastically. “Do you want to see my new horse? It’s upstairs.”

Sloane’s lips curled up in amusement, and he put on an awed face. “In your room! I envy you. I was never allowed to keep my pony in the house.”

This reply sent Gil into a merry laugh. “No, silly. Not my pony. Thunder’s at Stonecliffe. My, um...my wooden one. A...cheval à bascule. How do you say it?” He turned toward his mother.

But Sloane replied before Noelle could respond. “Your rocking horse? Oh, yes, I should very much like to see that.”

“You can talk French?” Gil’s eyes rounded.

“Some. And not in a long while. I’m afraid my skill is not up to yours.”

Gil turned toward the others and said graciously, “You can come, too.”

“I think Annabeth and Nathan will stay here with me,” Noelle said easily.

Sloane gave Noelle a knowing look, but he was smiling and, taking the boy’s hand, he walked away.

“I wasn’t going to start a brawl at your wedding, Noelle,” Nathan protested.

“Yes, well, I’m not as sure about Mr. Rutherford,” Noelle said. “Besides, Gil is still rather enamored of the idea that he has a cousin.” She looped her arm through Annabeth’s. “And I haven’t had a chance to have a good coze with Annabeth yet.”

“That, I take it, is my cue to leave,” Nathan said with a smile. “Ladies.” He sketched a little bow toward them and walked away.

Annabeth smiled at Nathan, but her eyes went to the staircase beyond them. Sloane was climbing the steps, Gil’s hand in his, his head bent a little toward the boy. Gil was chattering away to him, now and then pausing to jump up a step instead of climb it. As he jumped, Sloane swooped Gil up to set him down several steps farther along. She could hear the boy’s merry laughter even above the noise of the crowd.

A pain pierced Annabeth’s chest, and she turned back quickly to face Noelle, pasting a smile on her face. “Thank you for that distraction.”

Noelle studied her, a small frown creasing her forehead. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Really. Sloane killed my love for him long ago. Seeing him doesn’t hurt me anymore.” Annabeth wasn’t sure what seeing him aroused in her—Anger? Alarm? Nostalgia?—but it was not the pain that had sliced through her when he left her twelve years ago.

“Are you sure?” Noelle looked at her a little anxiously. “I didn’t want to upset you by inviting him. I just—well, it seemed the right thing after he helped us protect Gil. And, frankly, I didn’t think he would actually come.”

“No doubt that’s why he did,” Annabeth replied dryly. “Don’t worry about me. I hope he didn’t put a damper on your enjoyment.”

Noelle’s face lit up. “Nothing could hinder my enjoyment. I am over the moon. I must sound like a rapturous fool, but today is perfect.”

“Which is exactly how it should be,” Annabeth told her. “You looked beautiful standing at the altar.”

“It will be you standing there before long.”

“Yes. Lady Drewsbury said the same to me.” Annabeth smiled, knowing it did not shine with the brightness that radiated from her friend.

A small frown creased Noelle’s forehead, and she looked at Annabeth searchingly. “Annabeth...is there anything wrong?” She steered Annabeth away from the other guests and into a small sitting room, closing the door behind her. “Are you and Nathan—I mean, are you having regrets? Did seeing Sloane—”

“No,” Annabeth said firmly, shaking her head. “Sloane has nothing to do with it. Nathan and I are fine. There’s nothing wrong. I, um, I suppose I am disheartened that my grandmother wants us to wait still.”

Noelle crossed her arms, her face skeptical. “I don’t think this is about your grandmother. You know, a vow you made when you thought Nathan was dying shouldn’t rule the rest of your life. You were worried and distraught and not thinking clearly.”