Finding his voice at last, Oliver stammered, “But . . . Ned . . . I—I do not know what to say to you.”
“‘Thank you’ will be sufficient.”
“But you don’t understand. I could not possibly accept all this as a gift from you! It is too much! You must allow me to pay you back—”
“Pay me back? Do you not realize, Oliver, that if you had not risked your own life to drag me off that rotting battlefield, everything I now have would be yours? I will not listen to any nonsense about repayment. Being the head of the family does not mean sitting upon a pedestal, hoarding the wealth, and allowing those you love to struggle when you have the means to help them. You will accept this gift as it is offered you, or I very much fear we shall be at loggerheads again.”
Oliver knew his brother well enough to know when he would not be moved. He recognized that stubbornness now, so he smiled and admitted defeat.
“Very well, then, I will say thank you from both Charity and myself, and from our children, who will grow up calling this house their home.”
“And do not forget Mother. How pleased she would be if she knew her home was in the family again.”
“I am not forgetting her. It was she who taught me to love this place. And I will not soon forget your generosity, Ned. You are the best brother any man could have—and the truest friend.”
* * * *
A light breeze played through the open casements of Pamela’s sitting room, setting the curtains billowing. Bright summer sunlight splashed across the polished wooden floor.
Katherine and Rudley stood before an easel, studying Pamela’s most recent painting.
“She has captured it exactly, don’t you think?” Katherine asked.
“Yes. It is excellent—and not a particularly easy subject.”
The setting of the oil was a large loose box in the stable. The floor was deeply bedded with yellow straw. The central figures were Lady Halfmile and her new filly, born on the Ides of March and nicknamed, appropriately, Ides. The mare stood with her head craned around and her nose just a fraction from her foal, checking to be sure all was well. The foal stood, too, but not expertly. Seemingly too-long legs were spread at random, seeking the proper balance points.
“Pamela has shown that one aspect of a newborn foal that makes it unique.”
“The wobbliness,” Rudley supplied.
“Yes. A motion, a way of moving. And she has put that motion onto this still medium. It is quite remarkable.”
“I have sent several of her pieces out for framing,” he said. “I thought we would hang them in the picture gallery.”
“What a wonderful idea! Was she pleased?”
“I have not told her yet. I thought we could surprise her.”
“There was something else about Pamela I wanted to discuss with you, Ned. I have been thinking that she has long outgrown these rooms. Do you suppose she might like to move into the suite next to ours? The rooms are larger than these and have a lovely view of the lake. She could take a hand in redecorating them; she would enjoy that, I think.”
“I have no objection. If she wants the rooms, she is welcome to them.”
“Good. Then, once she moves out of here, would you mind if I spent some time redecorating these rooms?”
“Why do you want to redecorate these?”
“They were a nursery once. I thought they would serve well again in that capacity.”
“Why should . . .” He took her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Why should we need a redecorated nursery?”
“Why does anyone need a nursery, my love?”
Rudley drew his wife into his arms and kissed her passionately. He did not hear the door open behind them, nor did he see Pamela’s blushing face as she quickly turned and left the room again, quietly closing the door behind her.
Lois Menzel was given Pride and Prejudice at age 13 and Georgette Heyer's The Unknown Ajax some years later. After she had read all of Austen and Heyer, she started collecting and reading books on the Regency, especially primary sources. She sold her first Regency to Fawcett in 1985.
Lois and her husband live in a 110-year-old Victorian farm house that they have completely renovated themselves. They have two cats, a large garden and a few Appaloosas to keep the pasture trimmed.
Lois welcomes questions and comments from readers and can be contacted at: [email protected]
Copyright © 1993 by Lois Menzel
Originally published by Fawcett (ISBN 0449222284)
Electronically published in 2012 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228
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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.