Page 39 of If You Were the Only Girl in the World
This morning, she and Nate had boarded the train in London, headed for the countryside of Kent. There, side by side, marched his own estate Carbury Manor and that of the Duke and Duchess of Seton, Willowreach. She and Nate had spent the last four days in London after an uneventful sail across the Channel. Nate had reported immediately for duty once more at Whitehall and Horse Guards, then asked for two more days to take his bride south to introduce Katrina to his aunt and uncle and cousins. He’d called his Aunt Lily to break the news that he was married and bringing his wife down this Friday to meet them all. He’d also told her he was eager to have Everett meet his new mama. Lily had congratulated him on the news of his wedding and told him she’d gather a dinner party to welcome them Saturday evening. She’d also said she would let the nanny know of Nate’s intentions.
Katrina was more concerned about meeting the little three-year-old boy who had never known a mother’s attentions. Day before yesterday, she’d insisted on going to Harrod’s to shop for a small gift for Nate’s son. A furry chocolate brown bear with mellow brown eyes was her choice. Yesterday, she’d bought a big red ribbon to make a bow around his neck. She stroked the ends of it now as the rolling planes of southern England raced past their train windows.
Nate covered her fidgeting hand with his own. “They will love you.”
“The truth is I worry less about the adults and more about Everett.”
“I dare say he’s learned how to navigate meeting new people living amid such a horde of relatives. He’ll take you as you are, never fear. The bigger challenge may come when we take him to London with us. Aunt Lily is his darling. With her, he’s been often to the Seton House on Green Park. But as for my London house, well, it is not one he’s used to.”
Nate had told her the other day that he had closed it last year when he couldn’t keep staff. So many of them had volunteered for the Army or gone home to work in the factories that he found it prudent to shut down. The men in the family had agreed to use Number One-Ten Piccadilly as their home in town and that had worked for everyone.
Nate shook his head. “I doubt Everett remembers anything of my house.”
But she and Nate had decided to open it nonetheless. They wished to establish their own separate household. Creating a home for themselves as a newly married couple and establishing a loving atmosphere for Everett were their priorities. Not inclined to work while pregnant, Katrina wanted to take those monthse to investigate current hospital needs in London. She was committed to learning more about the best practices to help soldiers with facial wounds. It was a new endeavor but it would be a most needed one. London, she thought, would be the best place to explore the opportunity to help those soldiers so afflicted. So yesterday, she had hired a housekeeper and two maids. While she and Nate were in Kent for a few days, those three were preparing Everett’s bedroom. Katrina had asked that they have that room ready before they paid any attention to the master bedroom or the main salon.
He squeezed her hand. “Let’s concentrate on having a good time and all will fall into place.”Everett will feel that warmth and imbibe it. We will be well.”
A tall, spare greying gentleman waved to them as they descended the train compartment to the platform. Dressed in a charcoal wool suit that fit his lean form perfectly, the fellow beamed at Katrina and Nate. His snapping brown eyes were dimmed by time but not enthusiasm.
“I assume you must be our new acquisition to the family.” He opened his arms wide to welcome Katrina in. “A wise choice to marry this fellow.”
“I thought so myself!” She went easily into his bear hug, laughing.
“My Uncle Julian needs little introduction,” Nate offered as he took his turn at the man’s bearlike greeting.
“Your Aunt is with Everett in the car. We have to keep it running or it dies and I’ve no man who knows enough to keep it tuned. So there you have it. Failure!”
The Duke of Seton looked nothing like a failure to the likes of Katrina. At sixty-eight, he looked fit enough to do maintenance on a roadster and still have energy left to bale hay.
“Your lugguage chits?” he asked of Nate with his hand out.
“You will not take them, sir. I will get them.”
“Nonsense. Otto is with us.” The duke leaned close to Katrina as he urged the lanky young man toward them. “Here he is.”
The young fellow doffed his cap and stammered a bashful hello.
“Our young stableboy,” the duke continued as Nate fished the luggage stubs from his pocket, “is fifteen and demands we give him all the heavy work. I happily comply or I know he’ll take it into his head to lie about his age and join up.”
Otto snapped up the stubs and off he went toward the tracks and the porters.
They headed through the little red brick stationhouse and filed out through the waiting room. Inside, two men in British Army uniforms and white slings on their arms waited in the passenger benches. Besides each man sat two ladies. One appeared to be a sister or a sweetheart and the other the man’s mother. Upon seeing Nate in his uniform and regalia, the women were on their feet. The men shot to attention and saluted.
“Sir!” they each said to him. To the duke, both defered slightly and muttered, “My lord.”
The duke acknowledged both with a grateful smile. “Our former gardeners,” he explained.
Nate returned the two men’s salutes, then rushed forward to take one soldier’s good hand. “Wimberly? Wimberly! Good to see you.”
“And you, sir.” The young man blushed, but grinned that Nate knew him. “And you.”
Nate gestured to his sling. “Recent, I imagine?”
“Yes, sir. Bad luck in the trenches. The Somme, sir.”
“Yes, I see. And you are Fremont, aren’t you? Sergeant Fremont?”
The man inclined his head. “Yes, sir.”
