Nick came out of the barn looking golden and splendiferous in riding attire. “Can these be my little nephews? You’ve grown just since leaving Kent.” He knelt, so the boys could try to strangle him with hugs around his neck, then rose with a nephew on each hip.
“Ethan.” Nick smiled up at him. “I’ve found some urchins to take back to Kent with me. I think this one will be a boot boy and this one a potboy. Or maybe I’ll keep them until they grow into a matched set of footmen for my lady. She’ll be the envy of Mayfair when she goes shopping.”
“Not shopping!” Joshua screeched dramatically. “Please, Uncle Nick. I want to be a stable boy.”
“Then go put up your pony,” Nick said, setting both boys on their feet. “If you’re quick about it, you can help put up Buttercup, too, while your papa introduces me to the lovely la—Alice?”
Nick’s expression went from that buccaneer’s charming grin, to consternation, to a beaming, genuine smile in a succession of instants.
“I see you’ve met.” Ethan swung down and came around to assist Alice from her horse lest Nick usurp that pleasure for himself. “Alice Portman, may I make known to you your friend Wee Nick. Nicholas, you’d best shut your mouth if you’re to extricate yourself from this without catching a fly.”
“Alice Portman.” Nick shook his head as Ethan lifted her from the horse and set her on her feet. “You prevaricating, deceitful, naughty girl. The air in Surrey is most certainly agreeing with you.”
Alice smiled at him. “Nice to see you again, Nicholas, but you knew I’d been taught how to ride.”
Nick’s smile tilted back toward flirtatious. “I’m not complaining about hiding your ability to ride, sweetheart, though it’s a pleasure to see you in the saddle. I’m taken aback by your ability to hide a siren in governess’s clothing.”
“From you,” Ethan muttered, loud enough for his brother to hear.
“Point taken,” Nick said, still regarding Alice thoughtfully.
“Alice was willing to make the effort to get on a horse for the boys, because she’s to accompany us to Greymoor’s picnic on Wednesday.” Ethan handed his horse off to Miller. “We can toast her with some cold cider or something stronger, now that the morning’s ride is accomplished. May I assume you’ll stay at least the night?”
“Am I welcome?” Nick asked. “I debated sending you a note, but can make other arrangements easily.”
Nick was studying the arena, the trees, the barns… perhaps thinking Ethan would turn aside his own brother. “You will always be welcome, Nicholas. Now come up to the house and let me feed you as best as I can. The staff has Sunday off, and we make do.”
“Alice? Will you be joining us, or will you tarry here with your charges?”
“I do not supervise them in the stables,” Alice replied, but her eyes shifted to Ethan, clearly seeking guidance.
“Come.” Ethan tucked her hand over his arm and did not look at Nick. “You must celebrate your success with Waltzer and supervise Nick and me as we raid the larder.” Alice slipped her arm from Ethan’s as they reached the back entrance.
“If you gentlemen will excuse me, I’ll change out of this habit.”
“If I must.” Nick said. “But not until I tell you again how fetching you look, Alice. Turn yourself out like that on the Ladies’ Mile, and you’ll leave a trail of love-struck, callow swains.”
“Callow swains of any description are of little appeal.”
Ethan let her go, noting that Nick, for all he was happily married, watched the twitch of her skirts with unabashed admiration.
“It’s the glasses,” Ethan said because he’d been guilty of the same oversight, and without Alice’s presence, some of his possess—protectiveness ebbed. “And that bun, and all those sack dresses, and her…” He waved a hand around. “Governess airs.”
“Yes. Governess airs are excellent camouflage. Are we really to fend for ourselves in the kitchen?”
“We are. Fear not, though. I’ve figured out where the bread and butter hide, and which key opens the larder.”
“You have a very pretty property, Ethan.” Nick followed his brother to the kitchen. “I’ve ridden by from time to time, but the walls and hedges make it hard to see much from the lanes.”
“Why didn’t you stop by?” Ethan washed his hands, then extracted a loaf of fresh, white bread from the bread box rather than watch Nick’s reaction to the question. “Did you really think I’d not be home to you?” Because until Barbara’s death, he might not have been.
“I didn’t know.”
Ethan starting cutting the loaf into exactly even slices. “You’ve always had my direction.”
“And you’ve had mine. I see now your property is in excellent repair, your stables full of handsome horseflesh, and your house larger than any of ours, except for Belle Maison itself. I’ve worried about you when I didn’t need to.”
Was that resentment in Nick’s tone, or hurt? “Because I’m well off?” Ethan fetched a half wheel of cheese from the larder and again put the knife to use. “You can slice some of the ham hanging in the hallway, if you don’t mind.”
“You’re well off enough to remarry,” Nick observed, using a basin in the sink to wash his hands before he went to work on the ham.
Ethan wrapped the cheese and took it back to the pantry, then fetched a bowl of ripe peaches, which reminded him of Alice.
Rather than comment on Nick’s observation, Ethan fished in the drawers and cupboards until he found everyday cutlery, linen napkins, and plates. Nick’s arrival on a Sunday was something of a mercy, allowing them privacy while they tried to find a rhythm with each other.
“So how did you get Alice on a horse?” Nick asked, carrying bread, meat, and cheese to the table.
“She knows how to ride.” Ethan put salt, pepper, mustard, and butter down next to Nick’s tray. “She just needed an incentive to deal with her understandable fears.”
“Reese Belmont said she’d been hurt trying to report a crime of some sort.” Nick carried the pitcher of lemonade to the table, while Ethan opened a bottle of sweet white wine and found glasses.
“I don’t know the details.” Ethan set the wine on the table to breathe. “And I don’t want to know them unless Alice wants me to. It must be bad, though. Hazlit was out here, strutting and pawing like a papa bear.”
“Hazlit?” Nick’s eyebrows rose. “My Benjamin Hazlit?”
“He’s Alice’s brother. I assumed you knew they were related.” And wasn’t it gratifying to know something Nick did not?
“I had no idea,” Nick muttered. “How odd.”
Ethan poured them each half a glass of lemonade, added a portion of wine, and took a seat across from Nick. “For what we are about to receive, we are damned grateful, amen.”
“Amen.” Nick reached for the bread. “I cannot fathom Benjamin Hazlit confiding in you, Ethan. Meaning no offense, but the man’s lips are closed as tightly as a king’s coffin.”
“His younger sister works for me,” Ethan said, waiting for Nick to finish with the butter. “He told me he’d call me out if I offended Alice, and I had to like him for it.”
Nick set the butter knife down, his expression distracted. “You like him for threatening you?”
“He’s protective. I would want our sisters to be able to count on us for the same. Mustard?”
“Please.” Nick accepted the mustard and set it down beside his plate. “I feel as if… First, you find a lovely woman where Pris’s starchy little governess was standing when last I looked. Then you turn up living not in some gothic horror but on a gracious, perfectly pleasant and prosperous estate. And now you tell me Benjamin Hazlit is revealing family secrets to you, and you like him for threatening your life. Maybe the ale was bad at the last posting inn I stopped at.”