Chapter Fourteen
“The favourite brother has arrived,” Theodore called out, dropping parcels in the entrance as the footmen carried in his luggage.
“Teddy!” Grace exclaimed, rushing over with her hair half curled, half in some elaborate hairstyle Nathaniel would never understand.
“You were supposed to be here yesterday,” Nathaniel chided, if only because Grandmama had been concerned, and he had enough to worry about.
“We docked late last night, so I thought I would give you the courtesy of freshening up first. But I’m here now and ready to help. What can I do?”
“There’s nothing for you to do, love, but get dressed.” Grandmama took him in her arms and kissed his cheek. “I’ll have them send up some biscuits for you.”
Teddy rolled his eyes, but accepted her hug, and the way she pinched his cheek as if making it her mission to fatten him up while he was here.
She liked to ignore the fact that Teddy had spent the past few years battling the French and risking his life, preferring to see him as the little boy who ran after his big brother, knee-high to a grasshopper.
Nathaniel had also thought he’d only ever see him that way, and had fought the overwhelming urge to bring him back to shore when he’d first watched him set sail for the dangerous unknowns of the sea, but it became easier to see him as a young man when Teddy returned from that voyage half a foot taller than Nathaniel.
“What are the boxes?” Grace asked, making her way over. She only stopped when Teddy said, “Gifts.”
“For the wedding?”
“After?” He turned to Nathaniel.
“I’ll take care of it, just get dressed,” Nathaniel urged.
“He’s in a mood.”
Nathaniel heard Teddy’s comment as he and Grace made their way up the stairs but ignored it.
He wanted a drink, but every time he took a glass, his hand shook so much he had to put it down.
Grandmama had opened his curtains, to let in more sunlight, but that just gave him a better, less obstructed view of the house across the square, where Jo used to get ready, and the front window, from which she’d smile down at him, because the Suttons were always ready long before the Montroses.
“Last time there was a Sutton wedding, things were very different.” Lizzie came out of the library and gently nudged him into his study.
His face dropped. “I’m so sorry, Lizzie, I didn’t even consider…”
“Don’t worry, I’m happy to pass the spotlight onto you,” she assured him, handing over a glass with amber liquid.
“I’d much rather you kept it,” he argued as she downed a similar glass. “Not very ladylike,” he commented.
“I’m not a lady. I’m a dowager countess, and my husband left me a cellar full.”
“So, any advice?”
“One shot steadies the hand. It’s when you don’t stop that the shaking gets worse.”
“I meant—”
“I know.”
He sighed and looked out the window again.
It had surprised him when he’d taken over, how clear the view of Montrose House was from the study.
How his father must have watched them constantly crossing the square, seen Nathaniel sitting on Jo’s front steps for hours before building up the courage to go inside.
“Are you well?” Elizabeth put her hand on his arm.
“I will be,” he assured her, shaking it off.
“By sheer force of will.” She shook her head reprovingly, then followed his eyeline. “I think she would like her. I was never—”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Compare them. Or pretend there’s nothing wrong with Jo not being the one—”
“Jo died.” She said it delicately, but it still ripped through his heart and made it hard to breathe.
“If she were still here, I would have very choice words about your decision, but as it is, I want you to be happy, and I like Frances. I think she’ll fit in beautifully, and the two of you have a chance, as long as you’re not an idiot about it. ”
“How very kind.”
“Life is too short to hold on to misery, Nathaniel.”
Says the sister still mourning a husband she hated, he wanted to point out, but he knew it was easier to give advice than take it.
“Lizzie, you need to see what Frances sent over, they’re—oh. How are you feeling, Nate?” Rebecca had rushed in like her news was of the utmost importance, then stopped suddenly at the sight of him as if it no longer mattered.
“Do I look ill?”
“Only slightly.” Rebecca came over to fix his cravat and fuss with his hair.
“Better?” he asked with a weak smile.
“Much.” She beamed at him.
“What did Frances send?”
“Oh, nothing. You have other—”
“I would love a distraction.” He stopped her.
“She had her footman bring us flowers he cut from her garden for our hair. Beautiful ones that perfectly match our dresses. Even for Abigail.”
“That’s very kind of her.”
“She’s very thoughtful,” Rebecca agreed. “And talented. I know my opinion doesn’t matter in this circumstance, but I’m glad you’re marrying her.”
“Your opinion always matters,” Nathaniel assured her.
“Do not take that as an invitation to choose her match,” Lizzie warned.
“Not choose, but I always value all of your opinions,” Rebecca assured him.
“Even mine?” James asked, coming in and pouring himself a drink while the women placed the flowers in each other’s hair.
“Perhaps less, but always,” Rebecca teased.
“Speaking of, are there any guests I should be aware of?”
“Anxious for your own marital bliss?” Lizzie raised an eyebrow at their younger brother.
“I meant men I should keep away from Becca, or anyone less marriage-minded I might want to—”
“Becca is corrupt enough from growing up with you, please don’t make it worse,” Lizzie warned.
“Don’t listen to her, Becks, you’re perfect.” James winked at Becca, so Lizzie launched into a reproachful discourse on proper behavior.
The tightness around Nathaniel’s heart was ever-present, but watching his siblings squabble and tease each other with affection, even after everything they’d been through…
He took a deep breath and downed the shot, hoping his hands wouldn’t shake during the ceremony, at least.
“There you all are. Don’t you know we have a wedding to get to?”
Harry and Grace had come in, looking at them expectantly.
Grace had one arm holding Abby, who’d just woken up from her nap, while the other was on her hip, with all the authority an eleven-year-old could muster.
Harry, for his part, had gone to the decanter, like James, who was thankfully still there to stop him.
“You heard the lad.” Nathaniel sighed. “Once more into the breach.”