Page 92 of The Duke's Promise to Her Child
“We should make the husbands rank themselves,” Evelyn said. “They will enjoy it enormously and reach no conclusion whatsoever and it will occupy them for at least an hour.”
They all looked across the lawn to where the five husbands in question were engaged in a game involving a wooden ball and a set of rules that had clearly been invented on the spot and were already generating considerable disagreement.
“What is Gideon doing?” Frances said.
Helena looked. Gideon appeared to be arguing a point of some technicality with Rhys, using his hands to demonstrate something that Rhys was declining to accept. James had appointed himself referee and was making things considerably worse. Nathaniel and Lucien had formed an alliance of convenience against whatever position Gideon was advancing.
“I have no idea,” Helena said. “I have learned not to ask.”
They watched for a moment. The argument resolved itself into laughter, which was how most of their arguments resolved, and the game resumed.
After a little while Gideon detached himself from it and came across the lawn. He had grass on his boots and a smile on his face. He stopped at their table and bowed.
“I would like to steal my wife, if it is permissible,” he said.
“You may not,” Evelyn said. “We are using her.”
“Briefly. I will bring her back.”
“Post haste,” Evelyn said. “We are in the middle of something important.”
“What are you in the middle of?”
“Ranking our routes to matrimony by order of peculiarity,” Marianne said.
“And how did I do?”
“Helena is second,” Charlotte said. “You are implicated in second place by association.”
Gideon looked at Helena. “Second,” he said.
“Evelyn is first,” she said. “Octogenarian first husbands and apricot induced tragedies are difficulty to defeat.”
“Ah.” He nodded with the respect due to a superior claim. “Fair enough.” He held out his hand to Helena. “Briefly,” he said again to the table.
Helena took his hand and stood.
“Post haste,” Charlotte reminded him, as they walked away.
They went around the side of the house where it was quieter, following the path along the kitchen garden toward the old stone wall at the eastern end of the grounds. Gideon walked beside her and matched her pace without comment, which she had long since stopped needing to ask him to do.
“Are you quite all right?” he said.
“You have asked me that twice already today.”
“It is a large gathering and you have been on your feet since before the ceremony.”
“I am several months pregnant, not an invalid.” She looked at him sideways. “I am perfectly well. Stop asking and I will tell you if that changes.”
He accepted this without further argument, which was one of the ways he had changed in six months that she found most useful.
The stone wall came into view, and beyond its Ruby’s pen, relocated the previous summer closer to the kitchen garden at Helena’s request and closer to the house than Mrs. Storm entirely approved of. Ruby herself was immediately visible — considerably larger than she had been as a piglet, pink and solid in the afternoon sun, apparently asleep.
She opened one eye at the sound of their footsteps.
“Hello,” Helena said.
Ruby made her sound of identification and regarded them with curiosity. No doubt expecting a treat of some sort.
