But a boisterous family gathering was somethingelse entirely. Lucy’s parents had dined at their home, and Charlie dropped in whenever he liked, but James had never had to contend with the whole lot of them all gathered in one place.
Blackwood and Cassandra headed off into the drawing room, and James suspected Lucy had been drawn into the fray already too. Laughter carried from the room, the clink of glasses, even someone plunking away at a piano.
“How does it feel to be back, my lord?”
James hadn’t noticed that Mrs. Fox lingered in the hallway. The woman was as quiet as a watchful wraith, but when he turned to face her, he found kindness in her gaze. Even a sympathy he hadn’t expected.
“It’s a place that holds good memories, despite the brevity of my first visit. But I do recall that first night was rather unpleasant for all of us.”
She nodded and offered the hint of a smile. “I’ve secured Drummond’s promise that he won’t attempt to lock you in any rooms during this visit.”
“That’s something, I suppose.” James shot her a grin of genuine warmth. He’d always appreciated her sense of loyalty and watchfulness.
“You’ll want to join the family in the drawing room before dinner. I understand there’s to be a surprise.”
“Is there?” That made his gut clench. He wasn’t terribly fond of surprises, at least not of being the recipient of them. Or rather, the unknown still made him wary. After years of uncertainty as ayoung man, he had a craving for security and stability now.
Surprises were only enjoyable when they were for Lucy—gifts, flowers, new paint for her canvases. One of his favorite parts of marriage was the ways they reminded each other they were thought of and loved.
“I’ve been sent to retrieve you and bring you to the drawing room by force, if necessary.” Charlie stood at the end of the hall, a drink in one hand, the other waving James toward him. “Come. They’re all waiting for you.”
“Why?” A little muscle began to tick at the edge of his jaw. He’d already been quizzed by the earl and countess during dinner visits. Good grief, were Marion and her husband going to subject him to the same?
“Lucy has a surprise for you,” Charlie whispered to him when James approached. “An early birthday gift.” Charlie pointed a finger against his lapel. “Don’t you dare tell her I told you that.”
“What is it?”
“No, no. I won’t go that far. She’d skewer me with one of Aunt Cassandra’s arrows.”
James chuckled. She probably would.
The room was warm and smelled of woodsmoke, mulled cider, and the faint but distinct scent of Lucy’s perfume. Scanning the room, he saw that she was in a chair at the far side of the room, her back to him.
James sensed everyone’s gaze turned his way.
“Let me introduce you to Marion and Wakeford. Don’t worry,” Charlie said out of the corner of his mouth. “Marion is more of a snob than he is.”
His unfamiliarity with most nobles meant that James didn’t know quite what to expect from his brother-in-law, the Duke of Wakeford. What he didn’t expect was the man to reach out his hand and pat James on the back as if they were old friends.
“Glad to meet you, Rossbury.”
“And you, Wakeford.”
A tall, dark-haired woman watched from over the duke’s shoulder. Marion, James had no doubt. She took him in with one sweeping gaze, and he couldn’t tell from her expression whether he’d passed muster.
“Lucy has told me a great deal about you in her letters,” she said in a higher, sharper voice than Lucy’s. “I shall look forward to getting to know you, Rossbury.”
“And I you, Your Gra—”
“Please call me Marion. Or Sister, if you prefer.” She smiled and it softened her demeanor. She seemed instantly more at ease. “We are family now, after all.”
Sister.A word he’d never had cause to use in place of a name in his life. Andfamilywas a word he was getting used to, a reality he was coming to embrace.
Taking in the room, he realized he was a partof this group now, even if he only truly knew one member of it well.
“Would someone please send my husband to me?” Lucy called from her corner of the room.
James needed no one’s urging to seek her out. From the minute he’d entered the room, even while meeting the duke and duchess, part of his attention had been on her, the glint of gold in her hair a kind of lodestar drawing him closer.
