Page 61 of Weave me a Rope
Gina was on the floor with the block set she had received as a present on her recent birthday. Spen was on the floor, too, with Lady Vivienne splayed prone along his forearm, tucked against his body, her legs spread on either side of his elbow and her head cradled in one hand. With the other hand, he was stacking blocks for Gina to knock down again.
At two years old, Gina was in heaven, and had completely forgotten the altercation with her bossy older sister. Until the next one. The two were chalk and cheese. Cordelia could only hope they developed a greater appreciation of one another as they grew older.
A stir outside the room heralded the much-longed for arrival, and the book was cast to one side as Mary flung herself from the couch and across the room, to throw herself into her uncle’s arms as soon as he came through the door.
John swept her up and sat her on one resplendent shoulder as Gina arrived and demanded, “Up, Unca. Up.”
With one girl on his shoulder and the other held under his opposite arm, he galloped them around the drawing room as they giggled, then plopped them both down on the floor. “Now what might I have for my favorite rascals?” he wondered, and in a moment, Mary had a package wrapped in fabric and tied with a ribbon, and Gina had a smaller one.
“You gave Gina a present,” Mary pointed out, inclined to be indignant, “but it is not her birthday, it ismybirthday.”
“And what did you get from Uncle John on Gina’s birthday, hmm?” Cordelia asked.
Mary’s pugnacious chin retreated. “I forgot,” she mumbled.
“You two sit with your presents, while I greet Vivi and your parents,” John ordered.
He gave Cordelia a kiss on the cheek and another for Vivi, who was still asleep on Spen’s arm, though Spen had now joined Cordelia on the couch.
“You look very splendid in your uniform,” Cordelia told her brother-in-law.
“I didn’t expect the old devil to go through with actually paying for it,” John commented. “I thought I was going to have to take you up on the offer of a loan, Spen.”
“He does it to annoy me. He knows I have tried to talk you out of going,” Spen grumbled.
Cordelia knew there was no point, though she, like her husband, would worry about the dear boy. Young man, she supposed. John had recently turned eighteen, but he had been set on becoming a cavalry officer for as long as she’d known him.
John’s smile was full of mischief. “I rather counted on that when I wrote and asked him.” He looked up to heaven in an ill-suited assumption of innocence. “I may have mentioned to Aunt Corven that you adamantly refused to help me.”
Spen laughed. “You rogue. So, he purchased your commission, paid for your uniform, and what? The rest of your kit? Your horses?”
“Everything except my sword and the horses,” John told him. “Spen…”
“Yes, John, I will buy you a couple of horses.” Vivi stirred, and Spen began rocking his arm.
“As to the sword,” Cordelia said, “would you object to a family sword? I found a selection when we were going through the attics at Ayleswood Court. If one of them would suit you, John, take it.”
John looked uncertain for a moment. “A family sword? Should I? I mean…”
“You are my family,” Spen told him, firmly. “Still my heir, too.”
“Count it as a borrow,” Cordelia suggested. “Keep it until you can afford one of your own, then send the family one back.”
John refused to be distracted. “I don’t want to be your heir, Spen. You know that.”
Spen shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it, John. The marquess acknowledged you as his son when you were born, and not he, nor I, nor you, nor anyone else can change the way the succession works.”
“Have a son,” John begged. “Have a couple of sons. Let me off the hook.” His wry grin showed he knew he was being unreasonable. “Sorry. I know that isn’t a matter of choice, either.”
“We are quite happy with our daughters,” Cordelia told him. “In fact, Spen says he would have liked to have been a fly on thewall when his lordship got the news we’d had a third daughter. And Lady Deerhaven has given him two. Our family seems to run to daughters.”
“Especially since Daphne has had a boy,” John observed, with wicked glee. They had all been surprised when young Lord Yarverton had approached Lady Daphne’s trustees asking to be permitted to marry her. Cordelia and Spen knew from Miss Faversham that he was a frequent visitor, but not that the gentle girl had won his heart.
Spen could still not understand it, but the pair were clearly happy—as was Miss Faversham, who was now devoting herself to the next generation of Yarvertons.
“I hope to have a son one day,” Spen acknowledged. “Preferably after his lordship has gone, which is petty of me, but true. But you’re right, John. Cordelia and I cannot do anything about it, and if all we have is daughters, we will still have been richly blessed.”
Spen meant it, every word. Cordelia knew that, and she did agree. But for the sake of both the husband she adored and the brother-in-law she loved, she hoped they would one day be blessed with a son. Perhaps next time.
