Page 32 of Worth Any Price
As they ascended the stone staircase, Gentry surprised Lottie by fitting his arm behind her back. “Take my hand. That step is uneven.” He navigated her carefully over the irregular surface, releasing her only when he was certain that her balance was perfect.
They walked into a large entrance hall painted in eggshell shades, with gleaming gold ormolu swags that bordered the lofty ceiling. A half-dozen doorways connected the hall to six principal rooms, while a horseshoe-shaped staircase led to the private apartments above. Lottie scarcely had time to appreciate the graceful design of the house’s interior before they were approached by a lovely woman.
The woman’s blond hair was much darkerthan her own, the color of aged honey. It had to be Lady Cannon, whose face was a delicate copy of Gentry’s severely handsome features. Her nose was less bold, her chin defined but not quite as decisive as her brother’s, her complexion fair instead of tanned. The eyes, however, were the same distinctive blue; rich, dark, and fathomless. Lady Cannon was so youthful in appearance that one would never have guessed that she was older than her brother by four years.
“Nick,” she exclaimed with an exuberant laugh, coming forward and lifting up on her toes to receive his kiss. He enclosed her in a brief hug, rested his chin on the crown of her head, then drew back to look at her appraisingly. In that one instant, Lottie saw the remarkable depth of feeling between the two, which had somehow survived years of distance, loss, and deception.
“You’re expecting another one,” Gentry said after a moment, and his older sister laughed.
“How did you know? Sir Grant must have told you.”
“No. But your waist is thicker—or else your corset strings have come loose.”
Pulling away, Lady Cannon laughed and swatted at his chest. “You tactless wretch. Yes, my waist is thicker, and will continue to increase until January, at which time you’ll have a new niece or nephew to dandle on your knee.”
“God help me,” he said with feeling.
Lady Cannon turned toward Lottie, her face softening. “Welcome, Charlotte. Nick sent word to me about you yesterday—I have been terribly impatient to meet you.” She smelled liketea and roses, a fragrance that was as soothing as it was alluring. Sliding a slender arm around Lottie’s shoulders, she turned to address Gentry. “What a lovely sister you’ve brought me,” she remarked. “Mind you treat her well, Nick, or I shall invite her to live here with me. She appears far too well-bred to keep company with the likes of you.”
“So far, I have no complaints about Mr. Gentry’s treatment of me,” Lottie replied with a smile. “Of course, we’ve only been married for an hour.”
Lady Cannon frowned at her brother. “Marrying this poor girl in the registrar’s office, of all places! I wish to heaven you had waited and allowed me to arrange something here. Why, you haven’t even given her a ring! Honestly, Nick—”
“I didn’t want to wait,” he interrupted brusquely.
Before Lady Cannon could reply, a small child toddled into the entrance hall, followed by an aproned nanny. The dark-haired little girl, with her blue eyes and dimpled cheeks, could not have been much older than two. “Unca Nick!” she shrieked, rushing at him headlong, her curls flying in a wild, tangled mass.
Gentry caught her and swung her up in the air, grinning at her screams of delight. As he hugged her close, his strong affection for the child was more than obvious, belying his earlier description of her as a “tolerable brat.”
Wrapping her plump arms around his neck, the little girl growled playfully, kissing him and pulling at his hair.
“God, what a savage,” Gentry said, laughing. He turned her upside down, making the child squeal in excitement.
“Nick,” his sister reproved, although she was laughing as well. “Don’t, you’ll drop her on her head.”
“I will not,” he said lazily, righting the child and holding her against his chest.
“Candy,” the little girl demanded, plunging inside his coat as busily as a ferret. Finding what she had been searching for, she extracted a small paper parcel and crowed with excitement as her uncle opened it for her.
“What are you giving her this time?” Lady Cannon asked with resignation.
“Cinder toffee,” he said cheerfully, while his niece popped a large sugary wad into her cheek. His eyes continued to sparkle as he glanced at Lottie. “Would you like some?”
She shook her head, while her heart gave a peculiar extra thump. Just now, when he had looked at her that way, his face gentle, his smile quick and easy, he had been so devastatingly handsome that Lottie had felt a shot of pleasure from the back of her neck down to her toes.
“Amelia,” Gentry murmured, bringing her to Lottie. “Say hello to your aunt Charlotte. I married her this very morning.”
Suddenly shy, the little girl laid her head on Gentry’s shoulder and smiled at Lottie. Lottie smiled back at her, uncertain of what to say. She had little experience with children, as she had lived away from home for so many years.
Lady Cannon came to retrieve her sticky-faceddaughter, smoothing back her knotted curls. “My darling,” she murmured. “Won’t you let Nanny brush your hair?”
The round little chin protruded obstinately. “No,” she said around the mouthful of cinder toffee, punctuating her refusal with a drooling grin.
“If you won’t let her brush out the tangles, they’ll become so impossible that we’ll have to cut them out.”
Gentry added in a coaxing tone, “Let Nanny brush your hair, sweets. And the next time I come to visit, I’ll bring you a pretty blue ribbon.”
“And a doll?” Amelia asked hopefully.
