On this subject, Robert had become the elder, the head of the family. He took an odd satisfaction from that, though not a happy one.

“You have no need to rush into marriage simply to produce an heir. Althea is more than willing to accept that responsibility with me.”

“How very generous of you both.” Also a trifle arrogant. The Almighty alone decided which couples had male children and which did not. “Does it not occur to you that I might want a wife, somebody who accepts me as I am and will advocate for me as fiercely as you have? Might I not represent companionship that suits Constance better than what a more socially prominent, self-important man could offer her?”

“Crooked pots and crooked lids, Robert? Althea is cross with me when I use that analogy.”

“I am not cross with you. I will merely point out that we are all crooked pots, to one degree or another. Assuming Lady Constance accepts my suit, will you stand up with me?”

Nathaniel, to his credit, did not hesitate. “Of course I will. What do you take me for? I would ask one thing of you, though.”

“Name it.”

“Find out exactly what sent Lady Constance fleeing her brother’s household. She would have known how dangerous a course she set for herself when she left, and to accept employment as a maid of all work…Something went seriously awry, Robert. Something that might yet be amiss. Ask her about it. You don’t want Walden or Lord Stephen as an enemy, and some affront to one of them might lie behind her flight.”

Sound advice, if a bit cautious.

“I can do that. You should take Lady Althea to the orchard, you know. The plum blossoms have a lovely, delicate scent.”

Nathaniel looked like he wanted to say something more, then apparently thought better of it and went back to sawing away at his cold slice of beef.

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

“You are not to shout at me,” Constance said. “You are not to pace about like a caged hyena. You are not to clench your jaw as if biting back every foul oath you learned before the age of ten.”

She’d chosen the nursery for this confrontation—for this discussion, rather—knowing the sleeping baby would keep Quinn quiet. The infant would also ensure Constance did not lose her resolve.

“A hyena?” Quinn began lining up the books on the shelf in order of height. “A peer of the realm, a duke no less, and you liken me to a hyena.”

“You’re putting the books out of order, Quinn. Althea arranges them by title alphabetically, so she can find the story she wants without having to hunt through the whole shelf.”