But perhaps his relatives would not love this particular budding romance, Gwen thought. They might well resent her. She did not say so aloud, though. She smiled again.
“I will be down soon,” she said.
He inclined his head to her and left the room. He closed the door quietly behind him.
Gwen stayed where she was for a short while. She thought back to the day on the beach in Cornwall when she had felt that tidal wave of loneliness. If she had not felt it then, would she have felt it ever? And, if she had not, would she have stayed safely cocooned in grief and guilt that had grown so muted that she had not even realized how they had paralyzed her life? Strangely, it had been a comfortable cocoon. She half wished she were still inside it, or that, if she must have been forced out, she had then proceeded to meet the quiet, comfortable, uncomplicated gentleman she had soon dreamed up—as if any such person really existed.
But she had met Hugo instead.
She shook her head slightly and made her way to the dressing room so that she could wash and change and have her hair freshly brushed before stepping fully into Hugo’s world.
Fiona’s parents were feeling somewhat overwhelmed, Hugo soon realized, and sat in a sort of huddle with their own family members. Even Fiona’s in-laws must seem like grand persons to them, and he knew they looked upon him in some awe.
Too late he realized he should have instructed his ever-resourceful butler to find someone to look after the two boys during the house party. They were sitting on a sofa with their parents, the younger squashed between the two of them, the elder on the other side of his father.
Hugo’s own relatives were boisterous, as they usually were in company with one another. But perhaps there was a little self-consciousness added today as they were in a strange place and there were other people present who were virtual strangers.
Fiona sat by the fireplace with Philip. Her mother was gazing wistfully at her.
Constance was flitting about from group to group, her arm through Gwendoline’s. She was introducing her to everyone as the lady who had presented her to the ton, the lady who was her sponsor. It was Hugo who ought to be making the introductions, but he was happy that Constance was doing it for him and unwittingly making it seem that indeed Gwendoline had been invited for her sake.
Ned Tucker stood behind the seated group of his friends from the grocery shop and looked good-humoredly about him. Hugo had wanted to invite him just to discover what, if anything, existed between him and Constance. And her grandmother had made it easy for him. When he had gone to the grocery shop to issue the invitation, Tucker had been with them, and Constance’s grandmother had laid a hand on his sleeve and told Hugo he was like one of the family. Hugo had promptly included him in the invitation.
And Hugo, observing the groups around him, realized that he was part of the scene too. He was standing there in the midst of it all, like a soldier on parade. He wished he had some social graces. He should have learned more while he was at Penderris. But he had never needed social graces to mingle with his family. He had never known a moment of self-consciousness or self-doubt when he was growing up among them. And he did not need social graces to mingle with Fiona’s family. He merely needed to show them that he was human, that in reality he was no different from them despite his title and wealth. Or perhaps that was what social graces were. There was Gwendoline, Constance’s arm still through hers, talking with Tucker, and all three of them laughed as Hugo watched them. Gwendoline did not have her nose in the air, as she had with him on occasion, and Tucker was not bobbing his head and tugging at his forelock. Hilda and Paul Crane got up from their seats and joined them, and then they were all laughing.
Hugo had the feeling he might be scowling. How was he to bring these separate groups together, make a relaxed house party out of it? Really, it had been a mad idea.
He was rescued by the arrival of the tea tray and another, larger one bearing all kinds of sumptuous looking goodies. He turned to his stepmother.
“Will you be so good as to pour, Fiona?” he asked.
“Of course, Hugo,” she said.
And it struck him that she was enjoying herself as a person of importance to everyone in the room, since as his stepmother she was in a sense his hostess. It had not occurred to him that he would need one. But of course he did. Someone had to pour the tea and sit at the foot of his dining table and stand at his side to greet the guests from the neighborhood when they arrived for the anniversary parties in a few days’ time.
“Thank you,” he said, and he took it upon himself to circulate among his guests, distributing plates and napkins before he carried around the plate of goodies and persuaded everyone to take one or two.
Meanwhile Cousin Theodora Palmer, recently married to a prosperous banker, carried a cup of tea to everyone as Fiona poured, and her sister-in-law, Bernadine Emes, Cousin Bradley’s wife, crossed the room and spoke to the little boys. Her own children, she told them, together with some of their cousins, were having tea in a lovely big room up in the attic. And after they had finished, their nurses were going to take them out to play. Perhaps Colin and Thomas would care to go with them?
Thomas half hid behind his father’s sleeve and peeked out with one eye. Colin’s face lit up with eagerness, and he looked to his father for permission.
“We do not have holidays often, do we?” Hugo heard Bernadine saying to Mavis and Harold. “Neither do our children. We might as well all enjoy this one to the full while we may. There are two nurses, both thoroughly trustworthy. The children obey them and adore them. Your boys will be quite safe with them.”
“I am sure they will,” Mavis said. “We do not have a nurse. We like to keep our children with us.”
“Oh, so do I,” Bernadine said. “They grow up so fast. When I had my first …”
Hugo opened the drawing room door, beckoned one of the new servants, who was hovering outside, and told him to inform Mrs. Bradley Emes’s nurse that she needed to stop at the drawing room on her way outside with her charges in order to collect two more children.
Gwendoline was talking with Aunt Rose and Uncle Frederick Emes, and Cousin Emily, aged fourteen, was gazing at her in awe. Constance was leading her grandparents toward Aunt Henrietta Lowry, his father’s widowed eldest sister, matriarch of the family.
Rome was not built in a day, Hugo thought without any great originality. But it was built. And perhaps his house party would not be an unmitigated disaster. He was probably feeling awkward and anxious only because Gwendoline was here and he wanted everything to be perfect. He would not be worrying if she were not here, would he?
He went to talk to Philip, who was part of neither larger group but seemed perfectly comfortable anyway as he looked down at Fiona pouring second cups of tea.
They made a handsome couple, Hugo thought in some surprise. Philip and Fiona, that was. Now there was a thought. Perhaps he would turn into a matchmaker in his dotage.
They must be pretty close in age too.
And then tea was over and the trays were removed and Hugo explained that everyone was at liberty to remain where they were or to remove to their bedchambers to rest or to wander outdoors for some fresh air.
Most people dispersed. Fiona’s mother and father circled the room slowly with Aunt Henrietta, admiring the paintings. Constance went outdoors with a large group of young people that included several of the Emes cousins, Hilda and Paul, and Ned Tucker. Gwendoline was talking with Bernadine and Bradley. Hugo joined them.