Page 20 of Making of a Scandal
Nick held his favorite sibling for a moment longer than was necessary, taking comfort in her nearness. Only a year older than him, Charity had always been closest to him. Marriage and motherhood had taken her out of his life, and he didn’t see her as much as he would like.
“You made it dashed difficult for us, Charity. You needed more than three brothers to keep you out of trouble … you needed an entire regiment.”
Charity gave him a wicked smile as they pulled apart. “I would have escaped them just as easily as I did you. How are you Nicky?”
“I’m well enough,” he replied, kissing her cheek. “I need to speak with you later … alone.”
There was no time for her to do anything but nod, as the children parted to admit his uncle. Paul had left his chair and waded through the tangle of bodies to get to him. Nick was momentarily taken aback by the changes that had occurred since he’d last lain eyes on his uncle.
The man had always been slender, but now appeared emaciated, the sharp lines of his cheekbones and jaw downright gaunt. He was the second son, a few years younger than the earl, yet somehow looked years older. The change in his features made the gray strands more prominent along his jaw, the snow spreading from his temples to tangle with thinning brown hair.
“Uncle Paul,” he choked out, trying not to allow his shock to show. “It’s been an age since I saw you last. Where have you been hiding yourself?”
The older man took Nick in an embrace, and the startling weakness in Paul’s limbs made itself apparent.
“When you’ve grown as old as I have, country life becomes more appealing by the year,” his uncle declared with a shaky smile. “But city life seems to agree with you, my boy. You look well.”
“And you …”
Nick choked on the lie, his brows drawing together as he tried to make sense of this. His grim-faced parents looked on in silence. Something was wrong, and in typical fashion for this family, Nick would be the last to know. His siblings were now avoiding his gaze, and Charity chewed her lip the way she always did when something was bothering her.
“I am glad you were able to join us tonight,” Paul said, taking his shoulder and giving it a weak squeeze. “I had hoped we could talk, like old times.”
Suddenly, the matter he wished to discuss with Charity seemed inconsequential, as did anything having to do with Calliope or his courtesan duties. A fretful premonition opened in his middle, and his appetite waned.
“Of course.”
The butler arrived to announce that dinner was ready, and the family began movingen massetoward the connecting door. His mother halted him before he could enter, taking his hand and raising it to her lips.
“You are as handsome as ever, my son,” she said, casting an adoring, green stare up at him. “I’ve missed you. You ought to visit more often.”
Guilt tugged on Nick’s conscience, as he was faced with the evidence of his neglect. The tension between him and his father shouldn’t keep him away from his mother—who had been patient with him even when he didn’t deserve it.
“Forgive me,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her brow. “I have been occupied, but will make an effort—”
“Busy gambling what little funds you have,” the earl said with a derisive snort, his gaze dark and cold. “Though, Lord knows how you manage to find two sixpences to rub together these days.”
Nick couldn’t help a sly smile, tickled as always by his father’s ignorance of how he earned his own money. The earl had been needling him over it, his inquiries disguised as derision as he seemed to try to puzzle it out.
“A gentleman never discusses money, Father,” he said with an indolent shrug. “It is gauche. You taught me that, remember? Though I do find your concern touching. Never you fear … you cast me into the ocean, and I’ve learned to swim.”
He’d barely learned to keep his head above water, but his father didn’t need to know that.
The earl scowled, a ticking muscle in his jaw hinting at his agitation. “Your insolence isn’t as charming as you think it is.”
“And your disapproval isn’t as frightening asyouthink it is.”
“Wilfred, Dominick, please,” his mother pleaded, stepping between them. “This is the first time in over a year that the entire family has been together. We don’t want to spoil Paul’s visit.”
The gravity of her words sent panic resounding through Nick’s mind. The look his parents exchanged was heavy with meaning, and it irritated him not to know what it meant. Rather than ask, he straightened and smoothed the mocking smile from his face.
“Of course. Forgive me.”
His father went on scowling, but Nick ignored him. He’d find out what was wrong soon enough—if not through Paul, then through his sister.
He did his best to enjoy dinner, pushing the mystery to the back of his mind. As always, he opted to sit far enough down the table that he needn’t suffer his father’s disapproving glares. He preferred to be surrounded by the children, who were excited about being allowed to join the adults. Paul was at his father’s right, too far away for Nick to engage him in conversation, though Charity sat across from him, her eyes lowered as she spooned soup into her mouth.
Every now and then, she would glance up at him, her mouth pinched at the corners. Nick raised his eyebrows at her in silent question, but she gave a slight shake of her head. He took the hint and let the matter rest through dinner. After several courses and many spoonfuls of peas flung amongst him and the boys—despite Charity’s admonishment—the family adjourned back to the receiving room, where games of cards were begun and Jane resumed her place at the pianoforte.
