Page 10 of The Homecoming (The De Montforte Brothers #6)

“What kind of cake do you think we’ll have?”

Eva leaned toward Lucien, her words drowned out by the children’s excited chatter. “I’m more interested in seeing what Charles got her for her birthday.”

“Yes, me too,” Nerissa said.

“Aunt Nerissa ... you didn’t really mean what you said about Turnip, did you?” Charlotte asked, worried. “I think I speak for all of us when I say we don’t want him to go back to America ... we have become quite fond of him.”

“Yes, he’s our puppy now,” Laura added.

“He’s my puppy,” little Augustus said archly. “And he will remain here at Blackheath.”

“Why should you get him? Aunt Nerissa and Uncle Ruaidri brought him for all of us to share!” Gabriel turned to his aunt. “Is that not so, Auntie?”

“Perhaps we should have purchased the entire litter so each of you could have a puppy,” Nerissa said, sighing.

“I daresay the castle would not survive an onslaught of a second Turnip, let alone a whole litter of them,” Lucien drawled.

“Litters don’t usually yield turnips,” Celsie quipped. “Do they, Andrew?”

The children laughed, their animosity toward the future duke forgotten as footmen came in bearing pots of tea and the much-anticipated cake.

“Oh, look!”

The cook had taken special pains to make it beautiful, and the children rushed to their seats, squealing in excitement as it was set down on the table. Icing capped it, dripping down the sides, and it was surrounded by a ring of fresh strawberries.

“And here comes the birthday girl, just in time!”

Amy blushing, took her seat with Charles’s assistance. “Oh, you needn’t have made a fuss over me,” she said shyly. “Though what a beautiful cake!”

“Forget the cake, what did he get you?” Celsie asked bluntly, to much laughter.

Amy held up her hand. There on her little finger, the beautiful ruby and its wreath of diamonds winked and sparkled in the light from the candles. The women ooh ed and aah ed and Amy looked down, making a small fist so the ring wouldn’t fall off her finger.

“I am afraid it’s too big for my little finger, and too small for the rest of them,” she said despairingly. “My hands have become so pudgy these past few weeks.”

“That happened to me when I was carrying Laura,” Celsie said. “It’ll fit after the baby is born.”

“The color is perfect on you.”

“Here, my dear,” Charles said, taking his wife’s hand and unfolding her fingers. “There’s no need for you to fret about trying to keep it on your finger when you should be enjoying your birthday.” He slid the ring off and then placed it near her teacup. “It will fit you soon enough.”

“Thank you, Charles.” She smiled up at him, her heart in her eyes. “I hope your great-grandmother is smiling down from heaven in approval.”

“I am certain of it,” Lucien murmured, grinning.

Tea was poured into fine porcelain cups and the cake was sliced, the children keenly eying each other’s plates to ensure nobody had a bigger slice than the one on their own, the adults chatting about the weather and the puppy, underneath the table, going from person to person, standing up on his back legs and placing his paws on a knee here, a thigh there, as he begged for a morsel of food.

“Off with ye, scamp,” Ruaidri said, as Turnip came to him. “Show some manners, lad.”

The puppy, getting impatient, jumped up onto the empty chair next to Mary and before anyone could stop him, grabbed her cake straight off her plate amidst howls of laughter from the children and sudden tears from Mary herself, who was promptly soothed by Amy and given a fresh slice.

Charles put two fingers to his brow and kneaded it, his good humor lost in the face of his daughter’s tears. “That puppy is unruly and out of control.”

“He just needs training and a job to do,” Celsie said, picking up the terrier when he came around the table and securing him in her lap before he could get into more mischief. “He’s obviously very intelligent. Did you say he’s a ratter, Nerissa?”

“Yes, but I’m sure he’d be happy to learn some tricks.” She looked at the children. “Perhaps you can all start by teaching him how to sit,” she added.

The puppy squirmed in her lap and lunged for the unfinished slice of cake on her own plate, but Celsie had a thumb hooked beneath his collar and held him tight. “No more treats for you,” she admonished. “You’ll end up with a tummy ache.”

“He stole a chicken leg from Cook,” Charlotte added.

Eva raised her brows. “What was he doing in the kitchens?”

“It was my idea, Mama,” said Augustus. “We went looking for a treat, and naturally, Turnip went with us.”

“Tell me he didn’t eat the chicken leg,” Nerissa said.

The children just exchanged innocent wide-eyed glances, and someone giggled.

“Right,” Lucien murmured, a gleam in his eye. “And who’s getting him tonight?”

Gareth exchanged a look with Juliet. “I, uh ... guess it’s our turn, isn’t it?”

Nerissa savored the last bite of her cake, sighing in bliss as it all but melted in her mouth. “How about we take him, Ruaidri? After all, it was our idea to bring him.”

“Aye, and it’s not as if we’re not used to him.

Saint’s alive, I’m startin’ to think he’d make a better ship’s dog than a castle puppy.

That little imp has been into one thing after another since we got here.

Could be he’s not the right dog for a proper English family, after all.

If ye like, we’d be happy to take him back—”

“No!”

“No, Uncle Ruaidri, he has to stay, we’ve already named him!”

Little Laura’s eyes filled with sudden tears and one fat drop began to roll down her plump cheek.

“Now, now, everyone.” Lucien made a dismissive motion with his hand and smiled at the children.

“Let’s not get all upset about one harmless little puppy,” he said smoothly.

“Your uncle is just worried that he’s causing too much disruption, and that perhaps he’s too much for the house.

I can assure him and your aunt both, that there’s never been a dog that didn’t fit into a de Montforte home and this little scamp will be no different. Am I not right?”

Laura’s sniffles stopped and she wiped at her eyes, nodding.

“Now, perhaps he can sleep contained in a box tonight next to someone’s bed.

It’s not quite fair to poor Turnip if he’s allowed so much freedom that he gets himself into trouble.

He is, after all, far too young to govern himself.

” He looked with false innocence at Andrew and Celsie and shook his head.

“Honestly, you two should have known better, given your vast ... experience with dogs.”

Andrew rolled his eyes and picked up his teacup.

“We’ll take him again tonight,” Celsie said hastily. She looked at Andrew, grinning in the face of his sudden frown. “After all, we do need to redeem ourselves as the family dog-experts.”

“That settles it, then. You two will take Turnip again tonight, Uncle Gareth and Aunt Juliet tomorrow night, and the following one I daresay it will be my and Aunt Eva’s turn.”

The crisis averted, the children were excused and released to their nurse waiting outside in the hall.

The room suddenly felt too large, too quiet, too still in their absence.

Plates were pushed aside and teacups refilled.

Outside, the call of a blackbird ushered in the evening, and the golden rays of the setting sun found their way through the windows and slanted across the floor.

The silence was a bit awkward.

Nobody spoke, most lost in their thoughts.

Amy stifled a yawn and shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

Nerissa made a comment about going up to the nursery to check on little Aidan.

Celsie scratched Turnip behind the ear, and the puppy closed his eyes, stretched, and nestled his head in the crook of her elbow.

Charles sipped his tea and discreetly studied his new brother-in-law, trying—and failing—to fault him for poor table manners or anything else that would justify his unrelenting dislike of the man.

As if sensing his discerning stare, the man looked up and caught his gaze.

Charles saw a gleam in his eye, and maybe even a challenge.

Or fancied he did. He flushed and was about to open his mouth with a challenge of his own when Lucien, surely noting the sudden tension, spoke.

“Well then, that’s it for me,” he announced, setting down his cup. “Ruaidri, perhaps you might join me for my morning walk tomorrow? I warn you, though, I rise early.”

“I’ll be there.”

Charles, irritated, decided it was well past time to remove himself from O’Devir’s presence before he could say something he might regret.

Or not. He pushed his chair back and rose to his feet, thinking it might be another night to take a tray in their rooms just to avoid the knave.

The less contact he had with him, the better . .. for all concerned.

“My dear Amy. Shall we?”

He offered his arm and helped her from her chair. She stifled a yawn, took his elbow, and they made their excuses.

The doors closed behind them.

In the dining room, the others remained around the table. Again, the blackbird called, and the sun sank lower in the sky.

“That baby will be here sooner than they think,” Juliet predicted.

Celsie nodded sagely. “I’m inclined to agree with you.”

The puppy awoke and began squirming. Celsie kissed the top of his head and then put him down.

“Shall we head over to the parlor?” Gareth asked. “Perhaps a game of cards? Charades?”

“Actually,” Eva said, reaching out to touch Nerissa’s wrist, “my musical abilities are quite lacking, and the old harpsichord in the red drawing room hasn’t been played since you left. Nerissa? Would you like to reacquaint yourself with it, and treat us to some entertainment as well?”

“Oh, I would love that!” she said eagerly and, rising, took her husband’s arm. Chairs were pushed back, and anticipating an evening of music, they all filed out of the room, chattering happily.

The puppy, licking up crumbs from beneath the children’s chairs, was forgotten.