“Good.” She pulled him into a hug again, and he let her warmth seep into him, comforting him. “I love you, my son,” she whispered in his ear, and with a final kiss she was off, running up the next flight of stairs.

The urge inside Nick pushed higher until he thought it would burst right out of his mouth. He watched the hem of her gown flap briefly as she turned the corner on the stairs, and then he gave in to the urge. “I won’t let Papa take you away,” he whispered.

Eleven

Nick sat at the top of the stairs, a small huddled form hidden in the shadow cast by the wall. He picked at a scab on his knee from an injury he’d received when he tried to ride his pony up the steps to the veranda at Nethercote. The trouble with adults, he decided, was that they didn’t come right out and say what was wrong, and how it could be fixed. He knew from the raised voices of his father and Gillian, audible even to him on the first floor, that they were arguing about something, and he had seen for himself that Gillian was crying again. But she didn’t tell him what was the matter; she just talked about his father being hurt and angry.

Before he had much time to dwell on the subject, he saw his father storm out of the library, snatch up his hat and walking stick, and, with a growl, stomp out to his waiting carriage. The servants were standing in a group in the hall. He wondered if they knew what the problem was between Gillian and his father, and how it could be fixed. He was about to ask when Rogerson, his tutor, separated himself from the others and, spying Nick, came to herd him back upstairs to the room used for his studies.

Rogerson put an arm around his shoulders. “It’ll be all right, lad.” Nick thought of Gillian and how nice she made him feel, and he fervently hoped his tutor was right.

***

“Lord Weston! I’m surprised to see you again so soon.”

“I’m in the mood for a little exercise, Jackson. Can you accommodate me?”

Gentleman Jackson grinned. “There’s an arrogant young blood in there just looking for someone to take him down a peg or two. Shall I tell him you’ll oblige?”

Noble allowed the attendant to peel off his coat and reached for the buttons on his waistcoat. “By all means. I’d be very happy to beat the arrogance out of him,” he said grimly.

***

“Well this is baffling!”

Crouch, Gillian noticed, had been hovering outside the not-quite-closed door of her sitting room. She smiled a little smile to herself. His interest and concern was really quite endearing, if a little stifling. She knew he was consumed with curiosity about the missive he’d just delivered to her.

“Did yer say somethin’, m’lady?” he asked as he popped through the door.