Page 5 of Unmasking a Wicked Marquess
Edward discovered how right his father was. Embraced by Amelia, he was quickly told off for not writing more and for sending his luggage ahead as she had been so excited that morning when she had mistaken his luggage for his return. She kept holding onto his waist, clinging to him, as Philip and Jane led their way into the drawing room.
“Come, we’ll start the tea,” Jane said to their father. “They can have some when Ma dares to release him.”
“You should have come home sooner,” Amelia whispered, showing no sign of releasing him.
“Missed you too, Mother.” He held her back and patted her on the shoulder, then urged her to release him a bit so he could look at her face. There were a few more grays in her hair, and her face bore a few more wrinkles than before, but the most noticeable thing was the unshed tears in her eyes that she was holding back. “What is it?”
“Happy tears.” She waved a hand at her face dismissively. “Someday, you will have a child of your own, and you will understand how hard it is not to see one of them for so long.” She embraced him again, and he chuckled, holding her back before they walked together into the drawing room.
“Hurrah!” Philip declared and clapped his hands together. “You have released him. Quick, get a drink, my boy, before she embraces you again.”
Edward used the back of the settee to shift himself over and sit beside his father. The athletic, if informal, movement made his mother tut as his father chuckled, passing him a teacup.
They started with Edward’s news, and he told them of the new rare horses he had brought back and some of his travels, though he promised more tales in time.
“I’m too tired for more stories.” He slumped into his seat rather dramatically, earning another reproachful tut from Amelia. “Jane, you tell stories for a while so I can take a break and drink my tea.”
“Very well.” She put her teacup in her saucer and sat tall so the fading light of the day through the windows shimmered off her dark hair, and then she abruptly smiled broadly. “I have news for you, brother. News that we did not put in our last letters.”
“Oh? What is that?” Edward took a mouthful of tea.
“I am to be married.”
Edward choked on the tea so aggressively that his father actually slapped him across the back.
“Oomph! Dear God, your strength isn’t failing you, is it?” Edward jested, rubbing his sore back in surprise.
“I’m not that old yet.” Philip elbowed him.
“Why so shocked?” Jane was now on her feet, her hands on her hips. “Am I so disgusting I could not find someone to marry?”
“Forgive me my surprise, sister,” Edward explained, now wiping his mouth with a handkerchief that his mother produced from where it had been neatly tucked under the sleeve of her gown. “When I left, you said you would never marry. You were quite intent on that.”
“Oh, well.” She sat down, now all smiley once again, her spine softening. “That was before I met Fred.”
“Fred? He has a name, then. Anything else I should know about him?”
“Lord Frederik Winter, a baron,” Amelia explained with something of a sigh of wistfulness. “Oh, he’s a handsome fellow indeed. He suits her very well.”
“He’ll pay for her very well, too,” Philip muttered, pulling a laugh from Edward.
“You checked, did you?” Edward asked his father.
“I wasn’t going to let your sister go to any man that didn’t have a good estate.” Philip shook his head as he laid back on the settee, resting as he sipped his tea. “It’s important to me to see you both settled. Speaking of which …” He trailed off and curved a single eyebrow at Edward.
“What? No. No.” Edward shook his head, aware out of the corner of his eye that Jane was struggling to hold back her giggle behind cupped hands. “You’re not helping,” he added in her direction.
“Cake?” she asked sweetly, offering up the sponge cake from the tea tray that smelled distinctly sugary and full of strawberries.
“You know what’s coming as well as I,” Edward observed.
Amelia suddenly reached forward from her armchair and took hold of Edward’s shoulder.
“Ouch,” Edward winced for the second time in as many minutes. “Since when did your hands get like birds’ claws, Mother?”
“It is time you married,” she said with full heart. “Choose a good woman, someone who will make you happy,” she added with that wistful tone once again.
“Someone with a good dowry,” Philip added matter-of-factly.
