Page 90 of The Fortunes of Ashmore Castle

‘Dress?’

‘I am not prepared to eat on a tray, even for my nearest and dearest. We shall have a proper dinner, at a proper dinner table, properly dressed, like civilised men. And I want a good bottle of wine, too – tell Afton. I promise you’ll feel much better afterwards. You’re too inclined to brood.’

‘Brood? I’m not a hen!’

‘You’re all too prone to think yourself hard-done-by and sink into impenetrable gloom. You don’t have my cheerful, outgoing character that leaps over obstacles like a particularly lighthearted mountain goat.’

‘I can’t think about food when that poor child—’

‘Will your not eating do him the slightest good? No. It’s pure self-indulgence on your part. A proper dinner – and you will come up to Town, if not with me then at least for the ball. It’s your duty, and we know what a whale you are on duty.’

Giles turned his head and looked instinctively towards the staircase, thinking of the troubles at the top of the house. But it only made him aware of how large and how empty it was – and it would seem even emptier when Richard had departed. ‘I also have a duty to my nephew,’ he said stiffly. ‘But I will come if he’s better by then.’

‘I could ask no more,’ said Richard.

‘He is a lot better,’ Afton said, opening the wardrobe. ‘The Lovat tweed, my lord? He’s sitting up, though he’s very weak, and he’s taken some nourishment.’

‘The fever’s gone?’

‘It comes and goes. And he has a troublesome cough. But, on the whole, Dr Welkes is quite pleased with his progress.’ He frowned to himself, remembering that Sister Sturgeon had not seemed so sanguine. She’d said, after the doctor had gone, that she didn’t like the look of that young man at all. But she seemed like someone naturally inclined to pessimism. Plump Sister Ogden, the night nurse, was more cheerful, cooed over the boy, stroked his hair, said what a good little soldier he was and promised him he’d be out of bed in no time. The good little soldier liked her much better than his unsmiling day nurse.

Giles, getting out of bed, did not see the brief frown. He said, ‘If he’s going on satisfactorily, I think I might go up to Town. I ought really to pay my uncle the attention. It will be expected.’

‘Very good, my lord.’ He smiled. ‘It will be pleasant for you to see her ladyship again. And the children.’

Giles smiled too. ‘Louis will certainly be glad to see you.’

‘The pleasure will be mutual, my lord.’

Kitty was sitting in the low nursing chair with Alexander in her lap, watching Louis play on the floor with his Noah’s Ark. Nanny Pawley was pottering about in the background and the maid Jessie was sitting sewing. Giles paused in the doorway a moment to take in the scene. The nursery at Aunt Caroline’s house was much smaller than that at the Castle, but was very pleasant, with a skylight as well as windows, making it light and sunny, fresh cream paint on the walls and pretty apple-green curtains. And Kitty was smiling contentedly, looking absurdly young to be the mother of two.

She glanced up and saw him. The smile faded and she eyed him cautiously for a moment, then said neutrally, ‘I didn’t know you were here.’

‘I’ve only just arrived,’ he said.

Louis saw his father, and his face lit. ‘Daddy!’ he shouted.

‘Hello, my boy.’ Giles stooped to ruffle his hair.

But he was more interested in his toy than endearments. ‘Look, Daddy, I’ve got a nelephant, and a camble, and a draff!’

‘Only one of each?’ Giles murmured. ‘Rather a miscalculation, surely?’

‘And a stripy horse, too.’

While Louis happily displayed his treasures, his parents carried on a conversation over his head. ‘I wasn’t sure you would come,’ Kitty said. ‘Uncle Fergus was asking yesterday and I had to say I didn’t know.’

‘You saw him yesterday?’

‘We all went to the theatre. To see The Scarlet Pimpernel.’

‘Did you enjoy it?’

‘I did, very much. Uncle Fergus dozed through quite a bit of it.’

‘It is hard to stay awake in a theatre. Particularly when one has dined well.’

‘He applauded loudly at the end.’ She hesitated. ‘Giulia was very critical. She said the story was unbelievable, that it was impossible for Lady Blakeney not to recognise her own husband.’