Lucy had looked forward to the trip for months, and it had originally been planned for late summer. But two events had delayed them—the acquisition of a new ship for Pembroke Shipping, and Lucy’s first exhibition of her paintings at a small art salon founded by Lucy and several artistic friends.
Both had proven to be a success.
Pembroke Shipping now had four fast, transatlantic ships in its fleet, and Blackwood’s Scotch whiskey was selling well in America, even against the competition of fine stateside blends.
In her art, Lucy was most adept at capturing nature and landscapes, and had become popular in London’s aristocratic circles among lady and gentleman gardeners who commissioned her to capture their prized flowers and trees in full bloom.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about this visit,” Lucy told him. She eased his worries with a kiss on the cheek, but James wanted more.
He cupped his wife’s cheek and kissed her. She curled her fingers into the placket of his shirtfront, sweeping a fingertip across his bare chest.
“What is it?” she asked, pulling back and nuzzling his cheek. “Your heart is racing.”
“How many people will be here, exactly?”
“You already know.” She pushed teasingly against his chest. “Everyone will be here. Mama, Papa, Charlie, and Marion and her family.”
Over the months since their wedding, James had developed a rapport with Lucy’s father and mother, though he still sensed the earl and countess were watchful. As if, even now, they weren’t quite certain he was worthy of their middle child.
Charlie was an ally, friendly and gregarious, and as reckless as any young man James had ever met. He considered them friends, but also felt a brotherly sense of responsibility for Charlie.
Marion and her husband had been so busy with their first child that he’d yet to meet them. Jamescouldn’t help but wonder how the duke and duchess would react to their brother-in-law in commerce.
“Angus is out front waiting for us.” Lucy kissed his cheek again. “I know you’re pleased to see him.”
Within minutes, the carriage had rolled to a stop in front of Invermere, and the minute James helped Lucy down, Blackwood practically dragged James into a bear hug.
“Good god, it’s been too long, lad.”
“Pleased to see you too.” James patted the man awkwardly on the back and noticed in his periphery that he was gesturing at Lucy.
“I’ll just go in and find Aunt Cassandra,” she called, and practically dashed through Invermere’s front door.
James watched his wife go and assessed Blackwood, who’d finally released him.
“What’s afoot, Angus?”
“I’ve nae idea to what ye’re referring, good sir.” Blackwood hooked an arm around his shoulders and led him inside, but before they could mount the front steps, a blur of gray fur darted straight for James.
James bent to scratch between the hound’s ears. “I missed you too, Hercules.”
Blackwood chuckled, a deep rumble that made James smile.
“Cass was angry as a riled bear when ye departed last October. Hercules took it hard. Moping around for weeks. She was mighty peeved thatyou’d wooed her hound and taken her niece from her in the space of a week.”
“But she’s forgiven me?” James asked warily as they crossed the threshold.
“That is a foolish question.” The lady herself swept down the hallway, her trusty housekeeper following in her wake.
Lady Cassandra held out her hand and James took it into his. If she wasn’t yet prepared to receive the kind of overly affectionate displays like Blackwood’s from him, James was simply pleased to find her smiling at him.
“Welcome.” She did bend forward to peck a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for bringing Lucy back to me.”
“We’ve already decided it should be an annual tradition to visit, if you’ll have us.” The house was hers now, and she’d been able to secure the financing as she’d hoped. Though James and Lucy had tried to gift the house to her, she’d refused to consider such an option.
Stubbornness was something James shared with Lucy and her aunt, and he understood her reasons.
Voices carried from the house’s drawing room, and James felt that trembling sense of hesitation again. Not that he wasn’t used to socializing with aristocrats now. Lucy had made sure that they entertained frequently, and he was gradually becoming comfortable with his role in society and the duties of his title.
