Page 34

Miles smirked at his brother’s expression. “Oh, yes, regal indeed.”

“Come, we must get you some food and drink. No doubt you are in need of it.” Their mother looped her arm through Henry’s and forcibly dragged him out of the ballroom and down the corridor to the second drawing room. Miles followed, half-listening to his mother’s incessant questions of the journey. It was good to have Henry back in a way. His mother had missed him and there was something odd about occupying this house without his brother. But, of course, it meant, he assumed, the wedding would be going ahead.

Unless Henry was looking to call it off. Augusta would be ruined, if so, but perhaps they would be able to...

“Miles?”

“Yes?” He looked to his mother.

“I was just saying we should hold a ball to celebrate Henry’s return.”

Miles grimaced and ignored his brother’s amused expression. He’d done enough hosting and enough balls of late. “Perhaps,” he murmured.

Mother pulled the bell and practically dragged Henry over to the sofa, tugging on his arm so that he practically fell into his seat. “You must tell me of all your adventures.”

“I will of course regale you with all my tales, Mother,” Henry promised, “but first you must tell me of you. And Miles. I see you are both looking well, but what has my brother been up to of late? You know how closed-mouthed he is.”

Miles glowered at his brother. If he was digging for any tales of misbehavior, there would be none. It had been a long time since he’d done anything disreputable and he’d wished Henry would remember that. If anyone had been—

“Miles has been doing wonderfully. I know your father would be so proud, God rest his soul.”

Henry shot Miles a smug look. “Good to hear it.”

Miles narrowed his gaze at him and Henry chuckled. “His sense of humor has not improved in my time away it seems.”

Rolling his eyes, Miles reached for a biscuit and shoved it whole into his mouth.

“Nor has his manners,” their mother declared.

“I have perfectly good manners,” Miles protested around a mouthful of crumbs.

“Try telling that to the rug,” Henry said, casting his gaze pointedly down to where a sprinkling of crumbs had landed.

Miles grunted and leaned back in the armchair. “To think there were times when I missed you.”

“I have no doubt you did, Brother.” Henry grinned. “But all is well now. Your little brother is here to keep you company.”

“I like my own company,” Miles muttered.

“I really do think—” Their mother paused and frowned. “Goodness, I just realized I was to visit with Mrs. Lowbury today. I had better have word sent. Perhaps she can come here and see how Henry is doing. Oh, she will be most delighted to see him.” She rose as swiftly as she could from the seat, straightening her skirts and twisting briefly to clasp her hands around Henry’s face. “How handsome you are and how wonderful it is to have you home.”

Miles waited until she had left the room before leaning forward, his elbows upon his knees. “You have made Mother’s day. No, make that year.”

“I am glad.” Henry pressed a hand to his mouth. “And I am gladdened that you are not angry with me.”

“Angry?”

“Come on, Miles. I know you. None of this would have been easy on you—looking after mother, taking over the estate...even looking after Augusta...”

“Well, I have only really spent time with her recently...” Too much time, in far too close confines, in a far too familiar way. But he could not admit to that.

“Anyway, what I was trying to say about the mudslide...”

“Do not tell mother of that. She’ll have a fainting fit.”

“I have no intention of uttering a word to her.” Henry lifted a cup and took a long sip of tea. “But in a way, it was a good thing that happened to me. It reminded me once again that life is short and that running away from my responsibilities was not a fine way to spend it.”

“So you are returned for good?”