“Have you settled in, Mr. Sterling?” Mrs. Partlowe asked in a carefully polite tone. “I know it can be a bit overwhelming coming into a full house like this, particularly when one is unfamiliar with it.”

Hugh returned her smile, inclining his head in her direction. “I am, thank you. The home is lovely, and finely decorated. And as for it being full, I have yet to see that myself. I do know you have found yourself recently inundated with unexpected guests, for which I can only apologize for my part.”

Elinor made a soft sound of disgruntlement, returning her attention to the greenery in her lap. A quick kick from her sister silenced the sound, though Mrs. Partlowe still looked completely innocent.

“Might I introduce my cousins and my aunt, Mr. Sterling?” Mrs. Partlowe offered, smiling as if to make up for her sister’s disgust. She gestured towards the three women he did not know, all of whom had risen from the floor and waited for their presentation. “Mrs. Asheley, my aunt,” she went on, as the youngest of the women curtseyed, confusing him to no end. “My cousin, Mrs. Layton.” The taller woman with fair hair bobbed quickly, a dimple appearing in both cheeks. “My cousin, Mrs. Grover.” The darkest woman managed to curtsey, though her obviously expanded girth made such things difficult.

“Anna, Hannah, Alice, this is Mr. Hugh Sterling, an acquaintance from London. His carriage was stranded in the poor road conditions, and he will be staying with us for Christmas.”

Mrs. Grover chuckled, one hand going to her abdomen. “I pray you were not expecting tranquility, Mr. Sterling. Such a thing does not exist at Deilingh.”

Hugh smiled at the good-humored woman and bowed. “I consider myself fortunate to find any place hospitable and welcoming for unexpected company, Mrs. Grover. I need no solitude in such circumstances.”

“No, you are quite used to a rather riotous time of things, are you not?” Elinor muttered from her spot on the floor, separating branches of greenery carefully.

Someone hissed rather like a cat, and Hugh did his best to ignore it, wherever it had originated.

Mrs. Partlowe cleared her throat loudly. “Mrs. Asheley is my uncle’s second wife, Mr. Sterling. I would not mention it except I saw your confusion when I referred to her as my aunt.”

Had he been so careless as to reveal his surprise? Gads, he would never survive such a chaotic turn in this place if he did not have more reserve in his expression.

“I would never intend…” he began, apology ready on his lips.

“Tosh,” Mrs. Asheley overrode, waving a hand. “I am quite used to it, I assure you. You need not bridle your tongue among this company. Two of my stepdaughters surpass me in age, and the girls you heard laughing are my daughter, Mariah, and my husband’s granddaughter, Catherine. Can you greet Mr. Sterling, girls?”

The fair-haired girls gave identical curtseys, which wobbled, and immediately went back to their antics.