She couldn’t wait for the dinner at his mother’s London home the following day.
Chapter 15
The morning sun shone down warmly, painting long, cool shadows on the cobbles where Nicholas hurried up the steps. He knocked on the door of Aldford Townhouse. He’d woken after a restless night following his visit to Bernadette. He had hastened to his mother’s home to take the earliest opportunity to tell her Bernadette’s reply.
“Good morning,” he greeted the butler as he opened the door. “Is my mother at breakfast?” he winced, hoping he hadn’t come too early as he didn’t want to disturb her.
“She’s in the drawing-room, my lord. Everyone has already broken their fast,” he added, evidently seeing Nicholas’ worried frown.
“Good. Good. Thank you,” Nicholas added, absently handing the fellow his coat and hat before hurrying indoors.
He reached the hallway outside the drawing room and paused, hearing the sounds of soft laughter drifting out. The sound reminded him of the morning with Miss Rowland. It had been so lovely, and he allowed his mind to drift back there, savoring the memories.
She thinks I’m handsome, he thought dazedly.
He still couldn’t believe it. The comment she’d made about his sisters being beautiful, like him, returned to his head repeatedly. He couldn’t shake it.
Nobody had ever called him handsome before.
He stood in the hallway, thoughts drifting in the bliss of the previous day. A noise made him blink, returning him to the present. It was Henry sneezing, the sound loud in the hallway. He grinned to himself. Taking a breath to clear his head, he stepped forward into the drawing room.
“Good morning,” he greeted the family. Mama was sitting on the chaise-longue, a book on her knee. Henry sat opposite her; the paper folded on a low table beside him. His sisters were at the table, where they let out delighted yells as they saw him.
“Nicholas!”
“You’re here.”
His mother stood up, a happy smile crossing her face.
“Why, son! This is a surprise. Good day.” She reached him and embraced him, and he held her close, noticing with a twist in his heart that she seemed a little frailer than he remembered. He looked down at her, smiling into her eyes. She beamed back.
“Good morning,” he greeted Henry, who stood up and shook his hand.
“Morning, young fellow,” Henry greeted. “A pox on this damn hay fever. Sorry,” he added, smiling at his daughters.
“Papa! Nicholas doesn’t mind about your sneezing,” Marcia said warmly. She came over to Nicholas from where she sat at the table, her lilac dress rustling. Clarissa raced over, dressed in a white muslin decorated with small blue flowers, and almost knocked them both over by embracing both Marcia and him at once.
“Nicholas! You’re here.”
“I am,” Nicholas said, hugging both his sisters gently. “Are you busy?” He added, glancing at the table.
“Playing whist,” Clarissa told him briefly. “Will you play too?”
“Maybe,” Nicholas said warmly. He didn’t join in games with his sisters often enough. After talking to Miss Rowland, he felt lighter inside than he had for a long time. Playing games didn’t seem like too much trouble.
“Hurray!” Clarissa exclaimed delightedly.
“Only if you’re sure,” Marcia said gently, a small frown on her brow. Nicholas nodded.
“Of course, I’m sure,” he said at once. “Mama? Will you join in?”
“I must do this mending,” his mother said, gesturing to a pile of things in her workbasket. “But I’ll certainly play later, if you stay long enough.” She smiled at him. Nicholas sketched a small bow.
“Thank you for reminding me that I don’t visit regularly enough,” he said playfully. “And thank you for the invitation. Miss Rowland accepted.”
“What?” Clarissa shrieked happily.
“She’s going to visit us?” Marcia asked hopefully
