"Richard!" Helena-she who he'd always known as Maman-came sweeping down upon him.
Smiling reassuringly, he returned her hug, and squirmed when he glimpsed tears in her eyes. To his relief, she blinked quickly and they were gone, and she beamed her brilliant smile at him.
"Bon! You are already much recovered, I can see."
To his surprise, instead of taking possession of him, his sickbed and his room in short order, she contented herself with taking possession of his hand, and cast a questioning glance at Catriona, standing at the end of the bed.
Catriona inclined her head. "He is much better-he was unconscious for five days, but with Devil's help, we managed to walk him so the poison wore off sooner."
"This poison." Helena tilted her head, still regarding Catriona. "How was it given him?"
Catriona looked at Richard. "In his morning coffee."
"And the person who put it there? Will they try again?"
"No." Steadily, Catriona held Richard's gaze. "The poisoner is no longer in the manor, or the vale."
"Ah!" Helena nodded sagely. "They have run to safety, yes?" She looked at Richard, then squeezed his hand. "You will go after them, I know-but not until you are well again, hein?"
"I'll be perfectly well by tomorrow." Richard tried to catch Catriona's eye but failed-she was looking at Helena.
"You will know best, of course," his impossible stepmother was saying, "but how quickly he recovers will depend on the poison, yes?"
"Indeed." Looking back at Richard, far too calmly for his liking, Catriona informed him: "You were given wolfsbane, and probably henbane as well. But it's the wolfsbane that's the most lingering. It weakens muscles, and it takes far longer than one thinks to release its effect. For the amount you must have taken in, it would generally take weeks for full recovery."
"Weeks?" Horrified, Richard stared at her.
She smiled reassuringly. "In your case, you have a very robust and… er, vigorous constitution. If you remain in bed and eat what Cook sends you until you can stand and walk alone, you may be well enough to leave this room inside of a week."
"Eh, bien-your wife has spoken. She is the healer here and you must pay attention." Placing his hand under the sheets, Helena covered it and patted his arm. "You will be good and recover quickly, so that I will not worry, no?"
Richard stared at her, then he looked at Catriona and saw the militant light in her eye.
With a long-suffering groan, he sank back into his pillows. He was rolled up-horse, foot and guns.
"Damn it-why couldn't you stop her!" Grumpily, Richard mock-glared at Vane.
Who merely grinned. "Me and which army?" Settling on one corner of the bed, his back against the post, Vane raised a resigned brow. "You've known what she's like all your life."
Richard humphed.
"And if you'd seen what faced us when we arrived at Somersham, you'd be thanking me for managing to leave Mrs. Hull and Webster behind. As it is"-Vane glanced at Devil, similarly ensconced on the other side of the bed-"I'm sure the only reason they consented to remain at Somersham was because Sebastian was there."
Richard looked at Vane in only partly feigned horror, then shook his head. "What I can't understand is what you're all doing here."
"We," Vane said, clearly referring to himself and Patience, "were returning from visiting the Beuclaires in Norwich and thought we'd stop by to tell Devil and Honoria our news."
Devil raised his brows. "What news?"
"The impending extension of our family."
"Really?" Devil grinned and thumped Vane on the shoulder. "Excellent. Another playmate for Sebastian."
Both Richard, beaming and shaking hands with Vane, and Vane himself, stopped and turned to stare at Devil.
"Another?" Vane asked.
Devil grinned even more as he resettled his shoulders against the bedpost. "Well, you didn't think I'd stop at just one, did you?"
They hadn't, but… "When?" Richard asked.
Devil shrugged nonchalantly. "Sometime in summer."
Richard hesitated, then raised a brow and sank back. "Sounds like our respective mothers and aunts will be in alt. Nothing they like better than a baby or two." Or three. But he kept his lips shut on that point and looked at Vane. "So what happened when you got to Somersham?"
"We arrived mid-morning, one hour after Helena and the twins, who she's been chaperoning about, got in from the Ashfordleighs-we didn't even get a chance to get out of our coats. Your mother had read Honoria's note and got the bit well and truly between her teeth even before we arrived. Nothing would do but she must rush north to your side-to your deathbed, as she put it. As usual, it was impossible to gainsay her-and, of course, I couldn't let her go rushing through the snow with just the twins for escort. Well," Vane gestured, "you can imagine what it was like. Mrs. Hull on the stairs with Sebastian in her arms declaring you were at death's door. Webster all but wringing his hands and making unhelpful suggestions as to how best to reach the Lowlands. The twins oohing and aahing and trying not to remember Tolly's death. And your mother, center stage, vowing she would fight through drifts on her hands and knees to get to your side in time. In time for what, I didn't ask."
"To make a long story short, I didn't stop them because I couldn't. The push north had gathered so much momentum before we arrived that it was beyond my poor ability to deflect."
Richard grimaced in exasperated understanding. "Couldn't you at least have left the twins behind?"
Vane eyed him straitly. "Have you tried recently to turn the twins-independently or in concert?"
Richard blinked at him. "But they're only girls."
"That's what I keep trying to tell them-they seem to have different ideas."
"Humph!" Richard settled deeper into his prison. "Well, they won't be able to test their wings here-it's as quiet as a nunnery."
An hour later, Catriona presided over the noisiest dinner she could ever recall. It wasn't that anyone raised their voices, or spoke above the tone of polite conversation. But the sudden injection of Cynster elegance, wit and curiosity had spawned innumerable conversations, both at the main table, where all the guests sat, and at all the tables in the hall, filled by her household.
Everyone was chattering animatedly.
The wash of sound did not give her a headache-not at all. It was comforting, in some ill-defined way. There was warmth in the laughter, in the interest and attention, in the real affection so openly displayed. There was a human element the Cynsters had brought to the vale that, somehow, had been missing before. She wasn't quite sure what it was, but…
In her habitual role as head of the household, she kept an eye on the courses, making sure her guests needs were met. Everything ran smoothly-indeed, despite the totally unexpected influx, no serious problem had occurred.
Her gaze, at that instant, resting on the Dowager, Catriona inwardly grinned. Everything had gone right, because nothing dared go wrong, not before the Dowager and Honoria. Patience was less forceful a personality, at least on the surface, but even she could command when she wished. She'd called both the twins and her husband to order very effectively that morning.
Catriona inwardly frowned. Vibrant, effective matriarchs did not fit her earlier vision of what Cynster wives must be like. Recalling what had given rise to that transparently inaccurate view, she waited until Honoria, beside her, was free, then caught her eye. "I know," she murmured, leaning closer and lowering her voice, "what the bare circumstances of Richard's birth were. What I can't quite understand"-her gaze flicked to the Dowager-"is how his acceptance into the family came about."