Page 18 of The Homecoming (The De Montforte Brothers #6)

Chapter Fourteen

T here was cold chicken, fresh lettuce salad, rolls with butter and strawberry jam, and lemonade for the children. Little sugared cakes, and pots of tea for the adults.

And there was also tension.

Too much of it.

Gareth felt it as he and Juliet made their way out onto the lawn later that afternoon and shaking out a blanket onto the grass, sat with their plates of food.

“I can’t believe they’re leaving,” Juliet said sadly. “How ridiculous. This was supposed to be a loving family reunion and instead it’s been one awful thing after another.”

“I know,” Gareth said, watching as Turnip, finally finished with his prize, went trotting to the blanket on which Andrew and Celsie, Nerissa and her captain all sat together, laughing.

Ruaidri O’Devir bounced his young son on his knee, and he seemed in fine spirits despite all that had occurred.

The man must have the patience of a saint , Gareth thought with no small degree of admiration. He would have lost his temper by now.

Long before now.

He raised his gaze and looked to his right.

There, some distance away, Charles sat on a blanket, alone, except for his daughter.

His proud back was toward the others, his face like a stone.

Mary leaned against his knee, a plate on her lap, and every so often the child looked back toward the castle where her mother, exhausted from childbirth, still lay abed with her new little brother.

“Papa,” she said, her voice carrying on the evening breeze to Gareth and Juliet, “I wish Mama could come out and sit with us. We’re all by ourselves over here. May I go play with my cousins?”

Gareth saw his brother look down at his daughter. “And leave me all alone?” he said teasingly, but there was a note of sorrow in his words.

The child nodded, but her huge dark eyes were envious as she watched her cousins some distance away.

Augustus, on a small pony that was led by Charlotte, declaring quite loftily that he did not need for her to hold the reins as he was quite able to ride all by himself.

Andrew and Celsie’s daughter, Laura, tagging along beside them, asking when it would be her turn for a ride.

Gabriel, calling the puppy to him and sneaking him a piece of chicken.

“Gabriel, that is enough food for him!” Juliet admonished. “You’re going to make him sick.”

“But, Mama, he likes it!”

Juliet shook her head and exchanged a glance with her husband. “He’s too much like you.”

Gareth only laughed, and his gaze again went to his brother, now lifting little Mary to her feet and permitting her to go join her cousins. The child ran off, leaving Charles alone.

“We should go sit with him,” Gareth said.

Juliet nodded, picked up her plate and teacup, and walked with her husband over to where Charles sat on his blanket.

“Want some company?”

Charles looked up and smiled with what looked almost like relief. “I would indeed.”

Gareth and Juliet lowered themselves to the blanket. A footman approached, refreshed Juliet’s tea, and moved off to where the others, their laughter carrying on the breeze, sat.

“What’s this about you and Amy leaving tomorrow?” Gareth said, at length.

“It is necessary.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? Isn’t it obvious?”

Gareth shrugged. “What’s obvious is that Amy just had a baby and needs to rest.”

“Then she can stay here, and I’ll return home alone.”

Juliet reached out and touched his wrist. “You should stay, Charles. Nothing broken ever gets fixed by giving up.”

Charles shot a glance over his shoulder at the Irishman, who was guffawing at something Andrew had said. “What is there to fix? I despise him and he despises me. It’s as simple as that.”

“Can’t you just pretend some civility for the sake of our sister?” Gareth asked.

“You know me well enough to know I can’t pretend anything.”

Gareth breathed a heavy sigh and watched as Turnip bounced into Celsie’s lap.

She had just been lifting a small cake to her mouth and gave a little shriek as the puppy snatched it from her fingers and shot away with his prize.

Gareth couldn’t help laughing. She cupped a hand to her mouth and called out, “You and Juliet can have this rogue tonight, after all! You won’t be laughing, then! ”

“Nerissa and I’ll take him,” Ruaidri O’Devir said. “’Tis only fair, since we thrust him on you all.”

“Hope he keeps you awake the entire bloody night,” Charles muttered, but the comment was heard by the others, and the Irishman himself. His face went still, he put his plate down on the blanket, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and stood.

“Did you have to go and say that?” Gareth snapped, tensing up as Ruaidri, with Nerissa watching anxiously behind him, approached.

“Ye know, Lord Charles,” the Irishman said, “one of many things a mariner develops is good eyesight. And good hearin’. Nerissa and I’ll be on our way home tomorrow and I hope you and yer sister can at least have something of a visit before we go.”

“What do you mean, you’re leaving?”

“Just as I said.”

“You just bloody got here,” Charles snapped.

“Aye, well, ’tisn’t as if the welcome’s been a warm one, and yer sister, now, she’s feelin’ it.

She asked me to take her home and while I’d like to stay and see her visit her family she’s been missin’ so much, I’m also pledged to make her happy, and make her happy I will.

If she wants to leave tomorrow, we’ll leave. ”

“Oh, lovely,” Charles said acidly. “And how is that supposed to make me feel?”

“’Tis yer choice on how it makes ye feel. If me wife wants to go home, I’m takin’ her home.”

“This is her home.”

“This was her home. It’s not any longer. She’s unhappy.”

Charles got to his feet. “You’re right this was her home, until you came along.”

Gareth stood up as well. “Charles, let’s go inside. Now.”

“No, Gareth, back off. He and I have something to finish before he leaves, and it’s time we see to it.”

The captain just looked at him, his eyes shadowed by sorrow. “I don’t want to fight ye, Lord Charles.”

“Let’s go to the stables and finish what we started, right now.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no? Are you a coward, as well as a knave?”

“I won’t lay a hand on the man me wife loves. Her own brother.”

Charles reached out and shoved him hard, and with a curse, Andrew leapt to his feet and came running. “Stop it,” he snarled. “This is ridiculous.”

“This isn’t going to end until I see him pay for what he did to Nerissa.”

Nerissa herself was suddenly there, her eyes furious, a napkin still in her hand. “Charles, I don’t know how to make this any clearer to you than I’ve already done but hear me and hear me well. I love my husband, he loves me, and I am happy. Happy! Why isn’t that enough for you?”

“Because I see things the rest of you don’t!”

“Like what?”

“That ring hasn’t turned up, has it?”

The Irishman’s face went dark and angry.

“That’s one too many times ye’ve accused me of somethin’ I didn’t do.

Ye’re welcome to search our apartments, our trunks, me very pockets if ye like.

Go ahead. Turn the place upside down if that’s what ye want.

I’ve nothin’ to hide. And when ye don’t find it, and ye won’t, I’ll be expectin’ an apology. ”

Charles lunged again for Ruaidri and was caught by both Gareth and Andrew before he could reach him. He stood there glaring at him, quivering with rage.

“That will be the damned day,” he said hotly. “If you think—”

“Well, well,” drawled an urbane voice, and everyone turned. There was Lucien strolling toward them from across the lawn with Eva beside him. In his arms, Mary’s kitten struggled to get loose.

“Lucien!”

“I can’t return to the house for five minutes to get a shawl for the duchess and you ... children start misbehaving,” he murmured. “Such a terrible example you set for the real youngsters.”

Ruaidri looked down, toeing the grass, and at that moment, Charles ripped loose and went for him.

It all happened at once. Charles collided with Ruaidri, Ruaidri went down under the attack, and a moment later, Charles was pummeling the Irishman.

“Charles! Charles, stop it!” screamed Nerissa.

Andrew and Gareth tried to grab their brother and haul him off Ruaidri, but the two were rolling around on the grass and fists were flying.

Turnip, seeing what looked like a game, came running, yapping at the top of his lungs as he tried to dive between the two men.

The children started wailing, the pony spooked, dumping the lordly young Augustus on his bottom before bolting off toward the stable, and the footman, his wig flying off behind him, went racing off after it.

“Lucien, do something! ”

Lucien, with the kitten hissing and struggling in his arms, gauged the distance to the row of copper beeches, smiled, and deliberately put the feline down.

Yowling, its tail puffed up like a brush, it shot off across the lawn, heading straight for the nearest tree with the puppy now hot on its heels.

“Papa!” Mary screamed. “Papa! My kitten! ”

The kitten reached the tree just in time. With a flying leap it was airborne, on the trunk, and skittering up it with the puppy, defeated, yapping frantically on the grass below.