Page 26 of The Homecoming (The De Montforte Brothers #6)

Behind him, Amy sat on the bed and put her head in her hands. Was she crying? Or laughing? Was she part of this ... this scheme , as well? Who else knew? Did Nerissa and Ruaidri? Was he to be made the laughingstock of the entire family?

“No, no, my dear Charles, your sister and husband do not know they have a little stowaway,” Lucien drawled, reading his mind. “They will probably discover her, though, when they stop for the night.”

“Damn you,” Charles snarled. “Using our daughter for one of your dastardly machinations!”

Young Gabriel, looking so much like the little devil his father had been at the same age, was suddenly there beside Lucien.

His arms were folded over his puffed-out chest, and he had a defiant gleam in his eye.

“Uncle Charles,” he said archly, and Charles could see his nephew was trying, unsuccessfully, not to laugh, “You mustn’t blame Uncle Lucien or Aunt Eva for—”

“ Eva was involved in this as well?”

The boy ignored him. “As I was saying, Uncle Charles, you mustn’t blame them for Mary’s actions. It was I who put her up to it.”

“ You! ”

“Well, yes. I told her that I’d give her my favorite toy soldier, the one that looks like you, the one she’s always wanted, if she were to sneak into the boot without anyone knowing.”

Charles’s mouth had dropped to the level of his abdomen. “ What!? ”

“Honestly, is that the only remaining word in your vocabulary?” Lucien murmured. “And here you have an Oxford education...”

“Damn it all—”

“Oh, Uncle Charles, please don’t be cross with Mary. She only agreed to do it if I took her punishment. She is not to blame.”

Juliet was suddenly there, as well as Celsie, Andrew, Gareth, and Eva.

Behind them, Laura and Charlotte stood, and Charles saw the girl, trying to look neutral, unruffled, and concerned, was trying very hard to keep from grinning.

She caught him staring at her, and looking down to mask her emotions, took Laura’s and Gabriel’s hands and led the children away.

Amy, on the bed, who may or may not have been implicit in this ... scheme . His brothers and their wives clustered around the door.

And Lucien, who straightened, pulled out his watch, and made a big show of consulting it.

He looked up at Charles, his face perfectly expressionless save for the faintest of smirks just touching one corner of his mouth.

“Better get going, Charles. I still have my walk to undertake, and it would be nice if you’re all back for lunch.”

Nerissa, holding back tears, sat staring miserably out at the passing landscape.

The noble, timeless downs dotted with sheep .

.. the white chalk mud of the verge ... rabbits sitting up on their haunches and watching as they passed.

Inside, the familiar velvet luxury of the coach, the polished glass of the windows, and the well-sprung ride.

It was likely the last time she’d ever be in this coach that she had known forever.

A coach that, like everything else she was leaving behind, was part of her childhood. Her history. Her past.

Her very essence.

In moments, they’d be in Ravenscombe, where she would tell the coachman to take the vehicle and team back to Blackheath despite Lucien’s insistence that they ride in style back to the coast. Where she and Ruaidri would instead take the stage. Where—

“Hold up there! I say, hold up there!”

Ruaidri reached for his pistol. “Highwaymen? In broad daylight?”

The coach slowed, and outside, Nerissa heard the tattoo of galloping hoofbeats. She exchanged glances with Ruaidri, and a moment later, the coach came to a stop.

She started to get up but was held in her seat by her husband and a warning glance. Her arms tightened around Aidan, who started to fuss.

“I’m glad I caught up with you before you got any farther,” said the same voice outside.

Charles?

Ruaidri just looked at her and opened the door. The two stepped out onto the road.

“Did we forget something?” Nerissa asked coolly.

Her brother didn’t say a word. Instead, he swung down from Contender.

The horse had no saddle, and Charles left the thoroughbred standing there like the well-trained military steed that he was.

He strode briskly to the rear of the coach and nodded to the two bewigged and liveried footmen.

They looked at him quizzically, and quietly stepped down from their perch.

Charles went straight to the boot, and while Nerissa and Ruaidri, puzzled, looked on, yanked it open.

“Papa!”

Oh my God...

Nerissa, horrified, could only stare as her brother reached down and plucked his daughter from the small compartment, folding her close to his chest and stroking her hair. He was shaking, and in confusion, Ruaidri and Nerissa exchanged glances.

Ruaidri cleared his throat. “Lord Charles, we had no idea,” he began.

“I know you didn’t.”

Nerissa hurried over to her brother and the child, whom he now set down. “Mary, sweetheart, whatever were you thinking?”

The little girl’s eyes were huge, and she looked at her father, at her aunt, and at the puppy, who had appeared at the door of the carriage, tail wagging in frenzy.

“We didn’t want you to go.” Her eyes filled with tears and her lower lip trembled. “We thought that if one of us hid in the coach, someone would come after us and everyone could still be together.”

“Was this your idea?” Charles asked, blinking in shock that his daughter could be involved in something so cunning.

Mary’s eyes grew even larger, and she went silent.

“Mary?”

“It ... it was the idea of all of us,” she whispered. “I was chosen because I was the smallest.”

“And who chose you?”

Mary looked down and began kicking at the dirt.

“Don’t push her, Charles,” Nerissa said gently, and leaned down so she was at her niece’s level. “It’s quite all right, Mary. I think we all know who is behind this.”

“Please don’t get him in trouble,” she suddenly blurted, looking up. “He meant well ... we all did.”

“I am most certain that your Uncle Lucien will not get into trouble.”

“But it was Gab—” She paused, clapping a hand to her mouth.

“Gabriel?”

“ Ahem. ”

All eyes turned to the coachman, who was trying to maintain suitable decorum but whose face was starting to redden.

“I am sworn to secrecy,” he said hesitantly, “but I will say that young Gabriel was not the person who ... who had a word with me early this morning that we would have a stowaway on board.”

Charles let out a long-suffering sigh, raked a hand through his hair, and leaned against the rear wheel of the coach.

He looked at his daughter, who was clutching a toy soldier in her small fist. She reminded him of a fawn facing down a pack of wolves with nowhere to run.

He looked at his sister, whose stunned face proclaimed her own ignorance of this whole scheme.

And then he looked at his brother-in-law.

Ruaidri O’Devir gave him a wide grin and slowly began to laugh.

A few shy giggles escaped young Mary as she looked anxiously between the adults.

The coachman wiped at his own mouth, trying helplessly to suppress his own mirth, and then Nerissa burst out laughing as well.

“Devil take it,” Charles muttered and then he, too, found himself laughing as he considered the lengths to which his own family had gone in order to make things right.

In order to keep them all together.

Together.

Hoofbeats sounded in the road behind them, and they all turned to see Lucien, sitting astride his hellish black stallion.

“My dear me,” he murmured, a little smile playing about his face. “Judging by the smiles and laughter, I’m assuming that amends have been made, all is well, and you’re both ready to start over?”

Ruaidri looked at Charles and put out his hand. “Here’s to second chances,” he said amiably. “If ye’re willin’ to give me one.”

Charles took the other man’s hand and gripped it tightly.

“I have been abominable,” he said for all to hear.

“My own pride and confusion kept me from seeing the truth. That you and my little sister love each other more than I could ever have imagined. That you would do anything for not only her, but her family back here in England, as you proved over and over for the short time that you have been here.” He swallowed hard.

“I am sorry, Captain O’Devir. I, too, would like to start over. To welcome you properly to the family.”

“Ruaidri,” the Irishman said. “Just Ruaidri, Lord Charles.”

“Charles,” the Englishman said. “Just Charles, Ruaidri.”

The two exchanged grins and Nerissa, watching them, knew then that everything was going to be all right, after all.

Lucien sat atop his stallion, a triumphant little grin playing about his mouth. “Well then, that settles it, doesn’t it?”

The puppy chose that moment to bounce down from the coach, and without a backwards glance, bolted back down the road from the direction they had all come.

Back toward Blackheath Castle.

Back, Nerissa thought, wiping at a tear, toward home.