Page 6 of Miss Hawthorne’s Unlikely Husband (The Troublemakers Trilogy #3)

Thornfield House, London

E lodia had never had much experience with babies, being the only child of an only child.

She couldn’t say with much certainty if she liked them in general or if Ada’s children were objectively the most adorable little cherubs ever birthed in the history of mankind.

But as she stared into the wide, black eyes in the soft, round little face of Ada’s daughter, she was beginning to think she had the right of it.

Ada herself was feeding her son while her husband, Basil Thompson, sat vigil, watching them closely.

She seemed tired. Her hair was a bit more unkempt, and her clothing far more relaxed than usual, but Elodia had to assume she was happy based on the smile that perpetually lingered on her face.

Twins. Two children at once. It boggled the mind how she’d managed to fit two babies inside her.

“She is the most precious thing, Ada,” she whispered, cradling the light, chubby bundle in her arms as the little girl observed her closely with little to no expression.

“She’s the greediest thing,” Ada grumbled, passing her son to Basil, so she could finish fastening her blouse. Basil took his son easily, allowing the boy to lay face down on one arm, while he gently patted his small back.

“She should be. She should eat well and sleep well,” Elodia said, running one fingertip over the baby girl’s cheek.

“Mmmm, well, they are both managing that well enough,” Basil replied, fighting back a yawn.

“What is her name?” she asked as the little girl yawned widely and closed her eyes, ready to go to sleep now that her belly was full.

“She will be Eleanor Matilda, but we will be calling her Ellie.”

“Probably ‘Young Ellie’, to differentiate,” Basil added.

Elodia looked up at Ada as tears stung her eyes. “Truly?”

“Yes, after her godmother?”

“Oh,” the word left her mouth on an exhale. It had never occurred to her that Ada would want her to be godmother to her child. “Ada, are you sure?”

“Of course I am.”

“But what about Lady Sterling?”

Basil scoffed, “Are you mad? She is their grandmother; she is close enough.”

Ada laughed and shook her head. “Basil, you are too bad.”

“I’m correct,” he replied with a sardonic glance in her direction. “The less influence they have, the better.”

“What about the little gentleman over there?” Elodia asked, nodding at Ada’s son. “What will he be named?”

“He will be Thomas after my father,” Ada replied, “and his middle name will be Lewis after Basil.”

“Oh, how lovely,”

“Yes, I wanted to name him Basil but someone put his foot down about that.” Ada sent a halfhearted glare towards her husband, who met her gaze evenly and unapologetically.

“And his foot will remain down. No child should be named after an herb.”

Ada rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You are not named for a herb, my love. It is a noble, kingly name of Greek origin.”

“Surely there are worse names for a boy,” Elodia said.

“I dare you to name three,” he replied, raising one eyebrow.

Elodia glanced up at the ceiling as she searched her mind. “Peregrine, Adolphus and perhaps Bartholomew.”

Basil stared at her in stunned silence. “I stand corrected.”

It seemed an innocent moment to bring up Richard, especially as he wasn’t there and they were in his home. “How is your brother enjoying being an uncle?”

Ada rolled her eyes but her smile grew wider. “Oh, he—”

“He is doing very well,” his voice came over her shoulder as if summoned. Elodia’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of him, her mouth going dry with nerves. He strode in none the wiser, the very image of virility and elegance in his riding clothes, his inky, silken hair still wind swept.

“Gēgē, you’re back, I didn’t hear you.” Ada smiled up at him widely.

Richard pressed a kiss to the top of Ada’s head and then turned his attention to Basil. “Give me my nephew,” he said, shoving his riding gloves into his pocket.

“Absolutely not, go bathe first.”

“Spoil sport,” he grumbled before his eyes fell on Elodia and his niece. He smiled, his eyes warming with what she hoped was fondness. “Hello you,” he greeted her.

“Hello yourself.” It was how they always greeted each other. No formality or insipid politesse.

“I didn’t know you were coming today,” he braced one hand against the back of her chair, smiling down at her.

“Would you have been here to greet me if you did?” she asked, glancing over at him.

“Such an illustrious personage deserves a warm welcome after all.”

She squinted at him. She was familiar enough with him to see when he was plotting, and his eyes kept shifting down to the chubby prize in her arms. “Are you coming for your niece?”

“I might be,” his gaze fell to the sleepy cherub and stayed there, giving up all pretense.

Not exactly what she wanted but it was too endearing to hold against him. “You’ll have to wait, I’ve only just gotten my hands on her.”

“Are you open to a bribe?” he asked, crouching down beside Elodia and brushing his fingers over the top of Young Ellie’s head.

“I am not,” Elodia replied. She caught his scent, amber, sage and cloves. It was different than usual, warmer or deeper from the heat of his body and his morning exercise.

“How was the park, gēgē?” Ada asked.

“Green.” His eyes stayed focused on Young Ellie.

“How descriptive,” she grumbled.

“Can you not see that I am in very important negotiations, mèimei?” he replied, wiggling his fingers at Young Ellie until Elodia snapped her teeth at them.

“She’s mine, sir. Go perform your ablutions and we will discuss this later.”

His eyes went wide and an amused smile curved his mouth. “The temerity. In my own home, no less,” he marveled, nodding at her, and Elodia giggled. “That is my niece, young lady.”

“And she is my goddaughter,” she replied.

At the announcement, his fake outrage melted into a true smile. “She is indeed. There isn’t a finer choice in England.”

She forced breath back into her lungs and turned her gaze back to the bundle in her lap. “Thank you,” It was always like this with him. Admiration that could easily be confused with affection or even something more.

“Well, I will cede this round to you, Miss Elodia, but make no mistake, I will return,” he said with mock severity.

“As you said, it is your house,” she teased. He winked and looked down at his niece, running a gentle hand over the sparse dark hair on her little head.

He murmured something in Mandarin that Elodia didn’t understand, then stood and left the room.

She couldn’t deny herself the pleasure of watching him walk away before returning her attention to Ada and Basil who were watching her with interest. Had she done something obvious?

“He is very merry,” she said, hoping they didn’t try to probe.

“ Very merry,” Basil replied.

There was something in his tone that had her stomach squirming. Had they noticed? Did they also think Richard was paying her special notice? “He probably missed having company while you were both away.”

“Yes,” Ada said, shooting a quick warning glance at her husband. “I don’t think he’s ever lived alone before.”

“Oh,” she kept her gaze on Young Ellie and asked the next question as innocently as she could manage.

“Have you chosen the godfather for her?”

“Yes,”

“It’s Richard.”

“Oh.” She and Richard were godparents to their daughter. “That’s going to make fighting him for Young Ellie more difficult.”

Ada laughed at that and tickled her son’s foot.

“Do you think he’ll marry this year?” Elodia asked.

“Why do you ask?” Basil asked.

“Well, if he is, then he’ll be distracted.”

“True.” Ada and Basil shared a glance. “I suppose it depends on how long he holds out,” Ada said.

“Or if a more tempting offer than being a bachelor makes itself apparent,” Basil added, his tone careful.

So nothing had been definitively said as yet. Was it a good sign that he hadn’t found anyone yet? Or a warning sign that he had no interest in the prospect. She needed more information from him before she put herself forward. She’d waited this long; she could wait a little longer.

*

Sterling House, London, 1853

One Week later

Richard had never had cause to complain about attending social gatherings like his contemporaries.

Finding dance partners if he was of a mind to dance wasn’t difficult.

He was handsome enough, he knew, and an accomplished dancer.

He made small talk, smiled and moved along.

He never danced with the same girl twice at a ball and he was never pursued.

That had been fine when he wasn’t interested in marriage, but now it was a problem.

Somehow he had to find a way to make himself more of a prospect.

The only thing really standing in his way was his social status.

He’d have to begin leveraging his social circle to get him into more dinners and soirees with impoverished gentility looking for a bank account to plunder.

Surely if his sister was good enough for the Viscount Sterling’s son, then he would suit for a poor baron’s third daughter.

It was the entire reason he’d agreed to attend this ball hosted by the Viscountess Sterling.

The woman was civil enough, and more kind than the average white peer in England, especially toward Leo and Regina or A’wei.

If he was honest, however, he still remembered how anxious Basil had been to accept A’wei as his wife because of the behavior of his family.

Richard would never be able to fully trust the woman or her husband as long as he lived, but his entire family couldn’t avoid her invitations.

Especially when those invitations were so sought after among the ton.