“I see. Well. That explains why you looked familiar.” Richard struggled to his feet, hopping a little on his left foot while he got the right under him. Limping, he held out his hand. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, but if we are to be brothers, I shall insist that you call me Richard.”
Frank stepped away from the wall, his expression carefully guarded, but Jane suspected that his sensibilities were no less affected for it. He and Richard shook hands cordially. To look at them, one would think the meeting occasioned no more comment than any two gentlemen meeting in passing on the streets of London. “My family calls me Frank, and I would take it as an honour if you did as well.”
“Am I correct that you are Miss Louisa Hamilton’s father?” Upon receiving a nod, Richard continued. “Then I should have told you directly that your daughter and brother are both in good health. I left them established in my house in London rather than risk bringing them to Antigua while things were unsettled with my father.”
Frank closed his eyes for a brief moment, but before he did, the deep relief had been painful to witness. “Thank you, sir.”
“Mm … as I believe you are the eldest son, I should be saying ‘sir’ to you. I say … any chance we can alter the will to make him the earl? Deuced unpleasant trial, mostly accounts.” He chuckled, though Jane thought he was not entirely in jest about wishing not to be the earl. “I can imagine the stir that would make in the peerage.”
Then introductions needed to be conducted again with Jane’s father. There were many repetitions of “How do you do” and “A pleasure” before they were all seated again. At some point in the proceedings, cold lime juice and pineapple appeared, and as the company refreshed themselves, Richard explained all that had occurred in London.
“Not knowing that the Ellsworths were supposed to be out of the country, I sent a special courier straight to Long Parkmead, reasoning that they would like to know of an impending grandchild.”
“Which I very much did, though from your letter I thought to find you still expecting.” Mr. Ellsworth tickled young Charles under his plump chin. “Not with such a handsome young man already.”
“I did not expect you to come.”
“Jane … even if it had not been my natural inclination, do you think for a moment that your mother would have allowed any other choice? I did not even trouble sending a reply in return, simply went posthaste that very night to meet Lord Verbury in London.”
It was so odd to hear the words Lord Verbury and attempt to associate them with anything but dread.
Mr. Ellsworth broke the silence by turning to Richard, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and saying, “Lord Verbury, would you like to hold your nephew?”
Richard looked at young Charles and chuckled. “Yes, I would. But may I ask you to bring him to me?” He tapped his right shin with his cane and it gave off a hollow wooden thump. “I would not trust myself standing with him.”
“Of course.” Mr. Ellsworth stood, cradling Charles in his arms, and crossed to Richard.
The new Earl of Verbury took his nephew with the awkwardness of someone who has been little in the company of children. In most households in England, a newborn and his mother would be confined for some time after birth, but Jane had had quite enough confinement prior to her lying-in to want anything more to do with it.
Richard, The Earl of Verbury, studied his nephew, then looked across to Vincent, and then to Frank. He grunted and regarded Charles again. “He has the Hamilton brow, I think.”
*
When Charles Vincent was four months of age, he sailed into England in the arms of his mother. As they docked in the port at Weymouth, the young man commanded a significant entourage, even at such a tender age. In addition to his parents and his grandfather, he was accompanied by his aunt Isabella, two months his senior, her mother Amey Avril, and two of Amey’s other children.
The voyage had been uneventful, and Jane was deeply grateful that the motion troubled her not at all. More so, she was grateful that Weymouth harbour was not more than an hour’s journey to their own small town in the neighbourhood of Dorchester. Within two hours of arriving in England, she stood in a light fall of snow upon the front sweep of her family’s home at Long Parkmead.
The door to the house flew open and Mrs. Ellsworth came out at a run, gown raised and flying. Melody and Alastar followed at not much slower of a pace. With only a bare acknowledgement of Jane, Vincent, and Mr. Ellsworth, she lifted her grandson out of Jane’s arms. “What a handsome young man you are. Yes. Such a delight.”
Laughing, Jane met Melody in an embrace, while Vincent and her father were all very correct with Alastar. “How is my nephew?” Jane asked.
“Crawling and managing to destroy everything he can reach. I dread the time when he begins to walk.” Melody rested her hand ever so briefly on her stomach and blushed when Jane raised her brows. “Shh … Mama does not know yet. I can only take so many tonics.”