Chapter 11
The ride back to the town house seemed interminable, and not only because the five of them were crammed into one coach, with the boys on one side and Heathbrook and Giselle on the other. Truth was, Heathbrook didn’t have the faintest idea what to say to the lads or how to put them at ease.
By being their older brother.
That was easier said than done. He had barely been their older brother in his youth.
Father had packed him off to Eton at the age of ten before Evan or Kit had even been born.
After that, he’d only seen the two of them during holidays and had never even known Zachary.
Jon, Percy, and Scovell had become his brothers instead, first at Eton and then at Verdun.
Perhaps he could start there. “So, lads, from what I’ve been told, you have not been to school anywhere since a year after Mother’s death. I had heard you’d been at Eton until now, but my attorney’s investigators found out that was not quite the case.”
Evan looked at him with a cool-eyed stare eerily like their father’s. “That’s right. Kit and I were at Eton for a while after Mother died. But Cousin Yates eventually decided to hire us tutors instead. He said we would gain a better education that way.”
And would not have the undue influence of lads like Heathbrook and his friends at Eton? Either that or Yates had known it would make them more reliant on him.
“I can continue that if you prefer,” Heathbrook said. “Or I could send you back to Eton if you like. Father sent me to Eton himself.”
“You would really let us choose?” Evan asked.
Heathbrook’s heart settled like lead in his chest. God knows they’d had few enough choices given them in the past ten years. They hadn’t chosen to have the two oldest men in the family leave them. Or for their parents to die. Or to be taken out of a school they were used to.
He cleared his throat. “Of course you can choose. You and Kit are old enough to make such choices, I daresay.”
Zachary thrust out his lower lip. “I want to choose, too. I don’t want to go to school. Mother said I wouldn’t have to.” He gazed out the window. “Before she died, I mean.”
Leave it to the one brother Heathbrook didn’t know to break his heart.
“I liked school when I was there,” Kit announced. “But am I too old to go now?”
“No. You can always go to university if you prefer,” Heathbrook said. “I’d be happy to send you if that’s what you want.”
“You didn’t go to university,” Kit pointed out.
“No. Instead I went on a trip with Father and didn’t come back for over eleven years. So, I am definitely too old for school.”
A smile crossed Evan’s lips before he caught it and went back to being aloof.
“You can take some time to think about it,” Heathbrook went on.
“Since the Michaelmas term is already in session, you can’t start just yet.
And the next term doesn’t begin until January, so you have plenty of time to decide.
We’ll be traveling to Longmead tomorrow, and I can hire you any tutor you like to get you through until the next term. ”
“Will she be going with us to Longmead?” Zachary asked, jerking his head to indicate Giselle.
“She has a name,” Heathbrook said, bristling. “You will call her Miss Bernard.”
“Or you may call me ‘Giselle,’ ” she said, then glanced at Heathbrook. “Unless you prefer they be more formal with me, Heath.”
“You . . . you’re calling him what Mother called Father,” Kit put in, looking a bit perturbed.
Giselle smiled. “He asked me to. ‘Lord Heathbrook’ seemed so formal. Heath is my fiancé after all. What would you have me call him?”
Kit thrust out his chin. “Lord Ingram.”
“Don’t be a dunce,” Evan snapped. “He’s the earl now. You have to call him Lord Heathbrook.”
“I’m not a dunce, you bloody arse!” Kit said.
“Now, Kit—” Heathbrook began.
“You had better watch your language, you little worm,” Evan shot back, “or I’ll give you what for!”
“Stop it, stop it!” Zachary cried, clapping his hands over his ears. “I hate it when you fight!”
“That’s enough, boys!” Heath said firmly. “We’ll be spending hours together in a carriage tomorrow, and it will seem interminable if you lot continue sniping at each other. So, there will be no fighting. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” the two younger boys mumbled.
“And we’re in the presence of a lady, so no naughty words like ‘bloody’ and ‘arse,’ either.” Heathbrook stared Evan down. “And no name-calling.”
“I learned it from you,” Evan shot back. He was clearly testing his limits.
“No doubt,” Heathbrook said dryly. “Did you enjoy it when I called you insulting names?”
Evan sighed. “Not really.”
“Then perhaps you should not follow my bad example,” Heathbrook said. “I’ve learned through the years that people of all sorts generally respond better to respect than to name-calling.”
When a brooding silence fell over the carriage, Heathbrook added, “I tell you what, why don’t all of you call me Heath? I’m not your father, after all.” He flashed Giselle a rueful smile, which she returned with one so brilliant that his pulse jumped at the sight.
God, he was in such trouble. Today’s court case had amply demonstrated that he could not risk doing anything to ruin his chances at keeping the boys. Which meant he must not lay a hand on Giselle anymore if he didn’t want it discussed the next time he went to court.
Or reported to Yates by one of his uneasy brothers. He must behave toward her with the respect she deserved, which meant keeping his hands off of her. Even if it was torture to do so.
“I hope you lads enjoy collared veal with roast potatoes,” he said. “That’s what we’re having for dinner tonight, along with ham and macaroni. And there’s ice cream for dessert.”
“Ice cream!” Zachary sighed. “We haven’t had ice cream in years. Not since Mother died.”
“Did our cousin starve you?” Heathbrook said, his throat tightening at the possibility.
“Of course not,” Evan said sullenly. “But Cousin Yates is a pinchpenny and ice cream is very dear.”
“Also,” Kit said, “he didn’t have an icehouse on his property as we do at Longmead.”
“So, what did you eat?” Giselle asked.
“Oh, roast beef mostly,” Kit said. “He has his own cattle. Not to mention, his own deer and fowl and partridges.”
“But his cook was awful,” Zachary said. “Not like ours at Longmead. Everything was tough.”
The boys all nodded.
“Well, I have an excellent cook, so no worries there,” Heathbrook said. Thank God he had something the lads might want.
Evan stared at him. “Cousin Yates doesn’t like you, you know.”
Heathbrook blinked, taken off guard by the not-so-veiled attack. “The feeling is mutual,” he said acidly. “But just for fun, why don’t you tell me why he dislikes me?”
“He says you’re a rake,” Zachary piped up. “Or that’s what I heard him tell Evan.”
“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” Evan muttered.
“I know,” Zachary said. “No one ever wants to tell me anything. Everyone thinks I’m a baby. But I’m not.” Zachary paused, then gazed at Heathbrook with guileless eyes. “I can’t figure out what it means, though. How can a person be a rake? Rakes are for gathering up leaves, aren’t they?”
As the other two lads groaned, Giselle said, in a decidedly teasing tone, “Yes, Heath, do tell us what a rake is. I’m sure your explanation will be quite enlightening.”
When he shot her a dirty look, she laughed.
He thought about how to explain it to an eleven-year-old. “When someone talks about a person who is a ‘rake,’ they mean a ‘rakehell.’ That’s a man who seeks only pleasure in life, mostly with women.”
“Or with girls, Zack, if you’re the rakehell.” Kit laughed.
Zachary frowned. “I’d never do anything with girls. Girls are . . . are . . .”
“I’d be careful with what you say next, lad,” Heathbrook interrupted, fighting to restrain a smile. “We’re in the presence of a girl right now.”
“Who will one day be your sister-in-law,” Evan added.
Zachary shook his head. “Giselle isn’t a girl. She’s a lady. Like Mother. It’s not the same. Girls are disgusting. They play with dolls, which are creepy. And they want to kiss you all the time. It’s . . . it’s . . .”
“Disgusting?” Giselle said gently. “What would you have them do, Zachary?”
“Don’t call me Zachary,” he grumbled. “Everybody calls me Zack. And . . . and girls should . . . you know . . . do what boys do. Hunt and ride and fish. Play soldier. Find bugs to put in jars.”
“When I was a girl, I found bugs to put in jars,” Giselle said. “I had a little garden I tended that I was very proud of. I would pluck the bugs off the leaves and put them in jars and let them out down the street so they would not eat my flowers and vegetables.”
Of course she’d done that. It was so like her to treat bugs with the same kindness as she treated people. Like his brothers, for example, who could clearly use some kindness.
His heart twisted in his chest at the thought of kindness being denied to Zachary all these years.
“Why didn’t you just smash them with your shoe?” Zack asked with great seriousness.
Giselle shrugged. “They were just doing what was in their nature. You should not smash them for wanting to eat flowers and vegetables. You eat vegetables, do you not?”
“Not if he can avoid it,” Evan said dryly.
“How did you come to be around girls, anyway, Zack?” Heathbrook put in. “Yates has no children.”
“One of our tutors had a girl that came with him to the house,” Evan explained. “His daughter or granddaughter, I think. Cousin Yates allowed it, since the man had no one to watch her. While he was teaching us, she played with Zack. She was sweet on him.”
“She was not!” Zack cried. “Take that back!”
“Perhaps Zack is a rakehell,” Kit teased. “Like Heath.”
“I am not,” Zack said sullenly.
Belatedly, Heathbrook realized that Kit had just called him Heath. As if it were the most natural thing in the world.
He felt a little less unsteady. Perhaps he could do this after all. But first he had to stop their constant squabbling.