Page 26 of One Perfect Dance
Perhaps it was because Rithya was heavy with child again, and the childless tsar and tsarina were enchanted with Caroline, and anxious to do all they could to make sure Rex was back in England “for the birth of your heir, my cousin.”
They traveled into storms. Rithya was horribly ill, which was perhaps why, when they docked in Rotterdam to avoid the worst of the weather, she went into early labor, giving birth to Gareth. He was tiny, but strong, and a patch of fine days gave them the opportunity to make the crossing to Ipswich.
Traveling by gentle stages, they spent two nights on the road and were now approaching London. Their sixteen-year journey was all but over.
They stopped at an inn on the outskirts of London to meet the solicitor Rex and Ash shared. Ash had sent a message from Rotterdam, asking him to purchase Rex a townhouse and set it up ready for their arrival, and the solicitor was waiting at the inn with the address and the keys.
Rex ordered another riding horse. “I’ll go on ahead with Ash,” he told Rithya. “We will make sure everything is ready for you and the children. You enjoy your tea, my dear. Take as long as you like.” He saluted his wife’s cheek and went on to kiss Caroline and Gareth. Rex had taken to fatherhood like a duck to water.
It was a fifteen-minute ride to the townhouse. Ash held the horses while Rex mounted the steps to the door. It opened before he had a chance to put his key in the lock.
“Lord Arthur Versey?” asked a man with a South-Asian look and the accent and stance of an English butler.
Rex nodded. “Send someone to take the horses back to the Angel in Highgate,” he commanded.
“Yes, my lord,” the butler replied. “You have visitors waiting in the drawing room.” He must have signaled to a footman, for one sidled past Rex and ran out to take the reins from Ash.
Ash followed Rex into the house. Rex was asking the butler who the visitors were. “Your sister and her husband, my lord. Lord and Lady Barker.”
Ash thought he was going to say more, but Rex’s face lit up and he interrupted. “Do you hear, Ash? Elaine has come to greet us.” He turned back to the butler. “And your name is…?”
The butler bowed. “Gampaha, if it pleases you, my lord.” A name from the isle of Ceylon, which explained his appearance.
“Ash, this is Gampaha. Gampaha, my friend, Mr. Ashby. Lady Arthur, the children, and the rest of our retinue will be here in the next half hour or so. Come on, Ash, let’s go see my sister.”
The butler ran ahead to open the door, and they entered into a room crowded with people. Rex stopped two paces inside the door. Ash counted. Seven people. Not that large a crowd, after all.
“Arthur?” said one of the ladies.
Rex’s frown suddenly cleared, and he stepped forward with his hand out. “Elaine!” The lady grasped his hand, and another lady and gentleman hurried up, saying their names, while Rex shook hands or kissed cheeks. He was then presented to the lady and three gentlemen who had not come forward to claim him as family. Ash heard my husband, Lord this; my wife, Lady that.
“And this—” Rex proclaimed, putting his hand out towards Ash—“is my friend Ashby.” Ash was introduced around and discovered that those who had come to greet the returned travelers were only some of Rex’s large family—Lord and Lady Barker, another sister, and her husband, one brother and his wife, and a cousin who represented the eldest of the brothers.
That was the second surprise they had for Rex. “Did you come here to warn me that the duke still doesn’t want me in the country?” he asked.
One of the sisters said, “You haven’t heard? His Grace died a year ago, Artie. Percy is Dellborough now and is very proud of his brother the travel writer.”
The cousin spoke up, “He sent me to let you know, Arthur, that you and your wife—” he bowed to Ash—“and your friend are very welcome to stay in the family townhouse.”
Rex said he was pleased to be welcome once again in Dellborough’s London home, but he would keep his own household. He started asking after other relatives and family friends, and Ash watched on, torn between mystification and envy at the way Rex had been drawn immediately back into the network of Dellborough connections.
Ash had no family. Apart from those under this roof, the only people he knew in England were Regina Paddimore and the vicar. And he knew from letters that the vicar had long since retired to the midlands, where he lived with a daughter and her family.
Lady Barker must have taken pity on Ash, for she took him to one side to find out about their recent travels. She interrupted when he mentioned the children. “Arthur!” she called. “Mr. Ashby tells me you have a son and a daughter!”
At that moment, the door opened again, and the butler announced, “Lady Arthur, Miss Caroline, Master Gareth.”
Rithya entered the room with the grace and carriage of a queen, leading Caroline by the hand, followed by the wet nurse with Gareth. She surveyed the room, and only someone who knew her well would have detected the nervousness in her eyes.
Rex stepped forward to take her hand, with the proud and fond smile he kept just for her and the children. “There you are, my dove. You are just in time to meet some of my family.” He presented everyone to her, as if she was the highest-ranked lady in the room. Cunning devil. His relatives would go away thinking she must at least be a princess!
The ladies cooed over the children. Gareth wanted nothing to do with these new relatives. Rithya explained that his wet nurse had been about to feed him, and after a few minutes, she extracted him from Rex’s arms and carried him off. Caroline was in her element with a whole room of adults to charm.
“Arthur is going to have his hands full with that one,” commented one of the brothers-in-law to Ash. “I never thought I would see the day when that rascal was married with two children.”
“He was twenty years old when he left England,” Ash pointed out. “Nearly half a lifetime.”
The brother-in-law nodded slowly. “You make a good point. We tend to think of the youth we knew, even though we have all been following his adventures through letters and your books. You will find that most of London thinks they know both of you, Mr. Ashby. Prepare to be lionized.”
