Page 19 of Making of a Scandal
The earl had written him off years ago—not that he’d ever been the most attentive or affectionate of fathers. Nick being so far down the line of succession made him a superfluous burden.
He retrieved a fresh sheet of parchment and made a list of the best events for he and Calliope to attend, certain that Martin Lewes had also been invited to most of them. The man was popular just like Nick, and was a desirable guest many hostesses clamored after.
That done, he scribbled a hasty note to Benedict, ensuring his friend that the meeting with Calliope had gone over well and that the contract had been signed.
Only after he had done all this did Nick open his father’s message, surprised to find welcome news. His uncle was in London and staying at the family’s Town residence. He was being summoned to attend dinner with his parents and siblings, which was a rare occurrence. His father limited contact with his youngest son to the most necessary of visits, and the arrival of Uncle Paul was one such occasion.
Nick was certain his uncle was the one who had insisted on his presence. The man had been more of a father to him than the earl had, and the two had been close since he’d been a young boy seeking the approval of a man—any man in any position of authority. Paul had indulged him where his father had denied him, and for that reason Nick would attend the dinner. It would be good to see his siblings, and nieces and nephews as well.
He penned a response affirming that he would attend, and promptly sealed it. After he sent the notes off in Thorpe’s hands, he rose from the desk feeling better than he had on his arrival. His pounding head had eased to a dull ache, and he no longer felt as if he’d lose the contents of his stomach. Still, he hadn’t slept much this morning and exhaustion weighed him down.
He stripped to the waist, pried off his boots, and closed the drapes, casting the room into darkness. Falling face-first onto his neatly-made bed, courtesy of Thorpe, he closed his eyes and surrendered to oblivion.
Later that evening,Nick arrived at the Burke family residence recovered from his headache. Now that Thorpe’s concoction had done its job, he was ravenous.
Even though he was on time, he was shown into the drawing room to find that he was the last to arrive. His father and uncle sat in matching armchairs with a gaggle of children of varying ages at their feet. The cacophony of young voices mingled with the piano music produced by his eldest niece, who was so engrossed with her playing she hadn’t noticed his entrance.
The other children did, though, and promptly came to their feet to rush Nick all at once. He ignored his father’s disapproving glance in favor of greeting some of his favorite people in the world.
He went down on one knee and braced himself as two boys crashed into him, while a third latched onto him from behind, slender arms wrapped around his neck. Two girls wiggled in where they could, and little hands yanked on him from all directions. A wide grin split his face as he tried to enclose them all in his arms at once—a feat akin to wrestling with a barrel full of wriggling eels.
The piano music came to an abrupt halt as their cries and his laughter overpowered the music, and Nick came to his feet with a girl on one hip, another wrapped around his leg, and three boys pulling at his coat and vying for his attention.
“Uncle Nicky, pick me up, too!” whined Sarah, the youngest of his sister’s progeny. She was the one clinging to his leg, staring up at him with wide blue eyes, her mouth fixed into a pink pout.
“Wait your turn, Sarah,” said Louisa, glaring down at her little sister from the crook of Nick’s arm.
“Well, now … I think I can manage both of you. Let’s see. By Jove, Sarah, what has your mother been feeding you?”
The girl giggled as he perched her on his other hip, while the boys crowded around, each clamoring to tell him something. All dark haired and dark-eyed, Maurice, Owen, and Curtis were miniature images of their father. Lord Julius Burke was the eldest and the heir to the earldom. Typical of his nature, he had done his duty by marrying and producing three boys, each born within a year of one another.
Maurice pointed out that he’d grown taller than Owen, who was the oldest and did not seem happy with this development. Curtis wanted to tell him about the stray kittens he had found and convinced his mother to let him keep. Nick gave them each as much of his attention as he could while the girls giggled and kissed his cheeks.
“Will you read to us after dinner, Uncle Nicky?” Maurice asked.
“No, I’m going to show him my drawings,” Louisa argued with a glare in her cousin’s direction.
“But I want him to listen to me sing,” Sarah protested. “I’ve been practicing for weeks, and mama says I sound like an angel.”
“An angel with a frog in her throat,” Owen muttered.
“Now, now,” Nick chided, crouching to set the girls back on their feet. “I have no other plans this evening, so I have time to spend with everyone. Maurice, of course I’ll read to you. And after that, Louisa will show me her drawings and Sarah can sing her song. Jane … have you grown too old to greet Uncle Nicky properly?”
The young lady seated at the pianoforte rose with a shy smile and darted a glance at her parents. The first child of the second Burke brother and his wife—with a baby brother ensconced in the nursery—she was now thirteen years old. She grew demurer and more ladylike every time Nick saw her, but the mischievous little girl who had once joined him in pulling pranks on her father was still in there somewhere. He saw a glimpse of her—the slightest twinkling in her green eyes—just before she lost her hold on comportment and launched herself at him.
His chest grew tight as he hugged her and realized that the top of her head nearly reached his chin. She had grown so much, but it had seemed like only yesterday she’d been a baby bouncing on his knee.
“Hello, Janey my dear. How lovely you are. Your father is going to have to beat the suitors off you with a stick once you’ve made your debut.”
“I’ve already got a sturdy one picked out,” her father quipped, coming to his feet to greet Nick.
Jasper had the same long, slender frame as all the Burke men, and a headful of shining mahogany hair. He shook Nick’s hand, then draped an arm around his daughter’s shoulder.
“As her uncle, I’ll be counting on you to help keep the rakes at bay.”
“Done,” Nick said, only half-teasing. Thetonwas overrun with men like him, and he was never more aware of that than when thinking of his niece’s eventual coming-out. “Though, a convent is still an option.”
“Oh, stop it, all of you,” scolded their sister, pushing Jasper aside to embrace Nick. “No one is going to a convent. After how difficult the three of you made it for me to find a husband, I won’t allow you to torment my daughters and niece.”
