“What have you done with yours?” Marianne asked in alarm, when she saw the woman wasn’t carrying her own newborn. Chiara Jones had given birth to a boy only a month after Marianne had Marcus William Henley, the heir to the Henley viscountcy.
“His father has him. Holds him all the time. I have to send him to go digging so I can have my turn,” Chiara complained.
Darius appeared in the great hall, a swaddled baby held up to a shoulder as he allowed a huge grin. Behind him, a rather tanned James Singleton stood smiling with David Romano at his side.
“Which way to the kitchens?” James asked after he had kissed the back of Marianne’s hand.
Marianne waved in the general direction. “Be careful, you two, or I fear you’ll be stabbed with a kitchen knife,” she warned as the two hurried off to give their regards to David’s cousin, Aurora.
Kisses and handshakes followed, the cacophony of voices drawing the three nieces into the fray. Marianne managed to get most of them to move into the parlor, but not before the door knocker sounded again. Given the noise and general merriment, the butler was the only one who heard it.
William and Cherice, Marquess and Marchioness of Devonville, entered the vestibule followed by Adele, Countess of Torrington, and then Lord Donald.
“Must I go to the nursery to see my grandson?” Donald called out, his query eliciting a gasp from Cherice.
“I’m sure Marianne will have a nurse bring him down for you to see,” Adele said in a scolding voice.
But Marianne was already on her way out of the parlor, hurrying into her father’s arms. Curious to meet the young woman’s family, Chiara had followed, still holding The Honorable Marcus Henley as if he was her own grandson.
She curtsied to the newcomers, her smile wide as Marianne made the introductions. The babe made it into Donald’s arms even before Marianne was finished, her father making sounds she was quite sure she had never heard him make before. Assured her son was safe in her father’s arms, she turned and watched with interest as her uncle and Chiara regarded one another with recognition.
“Have I met you? In Rome, perhaps?” William asked. “A reception, I believe it was.” He had visited the country as part of his grand tour, a few years after he had married his first wife but before the wars prevented such travel.
“Sì,” Chiara replied. “My father was Samuele Romano.”
“He was in charge of archaeological matters, by chance?” William ventured.
“Sì,” she replied with a nod, her smile tentative.
“That’s why I remember you,” the marquess said, one of his fingers still bouncing in the air. “And if I remember correctly, Lord Darius was at that same reception. Do you remember him?”
Marianne allowed a giggle. “She married him, Uncle,” she said as she led them to the parlor.
Rather surprised by this bit of news, William was about to argue that it was impossible the two were married, but Cherice and Adele soon had him surrounded and on the way to the parlor. “Your spectacles are rather attractive,” Cherice commented on the way. “Where ever did you find such a stylish pair?”
“Yes, do tell,” Adele said.
“In Palermo,” Marianne replied, rather relieved at hearing her aunt’s compliment.
“Is that a shop in New Bond Street, perhaps?” Cherice asked before she disappeared into the middle of the fray in the parlor.
Once everyone was in the parlor—everyone but Aurora—Marianne stood with Jasper in the threshold and surveyed the scene before them. “What have you done with our son?” Jasper asked in a whisper.
“Father has him. You may have to bargain to get him back,” she warned.
“Not if Marcus wets his sleeve first,” Jasper said, sotto voce. He lifted a hand to her shoulder and turned her slightly. “Thank you for suggesting this dinner. This reunion,” he said with a nod. “I don’t believe I’ve seen such a happy family before.”
Dimpling, Marianne beamed. “Thank you for making the arrangements,” she replied. She reached up a hand to the side of his face and kissed him, unaware of how the noise suddenly died down in the parlor.
When she pulled away, she said, “If I recall, a kiss is how it all began,” she murmured.
Jasper swallowed. “Courage, my sweet,” he whispered, just before he dared a glance at their guests. As he feared, everyone of them was staring at him and his wife.
Far more than the three who had originally paid witness to their first kiss. At least the babies hadn’t seen them. Despite the chaos, they were both sound asleep.
Marianne turned her head and blushed at the sight of so many eyes aimed in her direction. She dipped a curtsy. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have worn my spectacles tonight,” she said loud enough so everyone in the room could hear. “There isn’t even a Cupid in sight.”
Her father lifted their babe from his shoulder and held it up. “Oh, yes there is,” he called out.
It was a long time before the laughter died down and the dinner chime sounded.
Afterword
Thank you for taking the time to read The Vision of a Viscountess. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Word of mouth is an author’s best friend.
Thank you,
Linda Rae Sande
Also by Linda Rae Sande
The Daughters of the Aristocracy
The Kiss of a Viscount
The Grace of a Duke
The Seduction of an Earl
The Sons of the Aristocracy
Tuesday Nights
The Widowed Countess
My Fair Groom
The Sisters of the Aristocracy
The Story of a Baron
The Passion of a Marquess
The Desire of a Lady
The Brothers of the Aristocracy
The Love of a Rake
The Caress of a Commander
The Epiphany of an Explorer
The Widows of the Aristocracy
The Gossip of an Earl
The Enigma of a Spy
The Secrets of a Viscount
The Widowers of the Aristocracy
The Dream of a Duchess
The Vision of a Viscountess
The Cousins of the Aristocracy
The Promise of a Gentleman
The Pride of a Gentleman
The Holidays of the Aristocracy
The Christmas of a Countess
About the Author
A self-described nerd and lover of science, Linda Rae spent many years as a published technical writer specializing in 3D graphics workstations, software and 3D animation (her movie credits include SHREK and SHREK 2). An interest in genealogy led to years of research on the Regency era and a desire to write fiction based in that time.
A fan of action-adventure movies, she can frequently be found at the local cinema. Although she no longer has any tropical fish, she does follow the San Jose Sharks. She makes her home in Cody, Wyoming.
For more information:
www.lindaraesande.com
The Vision of a Viscountess (The Widowers of the Aristocracy Book 2) Page 32