“The stables are found around the corner that Miles has just come from,” she told Joanna, who then took off—notin an unladylike run as Dorothea had almost feared she would. She was maturing.
“Tilly,” she said, glancing at her youngest sister with affection. “There are three bedrooms to choose from, and I told the housekeeper I would let you pick first.” When Tilly looked at her in surprise, she added, “As the youngest, you never have any choice. I thought you might like to have first pick while you’re here.”
Tilly squared her shoulders and smiled proudly. “Why, as a matter of fact I would. I think I shall go see them now. After all, we are to stay an entire month.”
“That’s right,” Dorothea encouraged her. She watched as Tilly took Lady Poole’s elbow and assisted her up the stairs into the house.
“Dorry, I’ve missed you.”
She turned to receive Sophia’s hug and returned it just as warmly. She had never realized how much her sister’s gentle presence steadied her until she was forced to keep up their relationship through correspondence. “I’ve missed you, too,” she said, with a tight squeeze.
“And you.” She turned to Camilla and included her in their hug.
“My goodness,” she added, pulling away to look at her. “Camilla, you are growing into quite a beauty. Sophia, do you see it?”
“Of course I do,” the gentle, faithful Sophia replied. “The suitors will be beating down our door for her next season.”
Camilla sniffed. “As though I care a button for that.” But her cheeks turned pink, and Dorothea was quite sure she did.
“Evo, well met.” Miles went over to him and shook his hand. “You celebrated a birthday last week, I believe. Fourteen?”
“As you say.” Evo’s voice had the slight warble of one yet undecided whether it belonged in the realm of boyhood or manhood. “Good to see you, Dorry.” He plunked a kiss on Dorry’s cheek, startling her with the gesture. She beamed at him.
“Come in, come in. It is true we thought you would be later, but I am sure Cook can drum up a tea that I shall not be ashamed of. For what else have we to do but to eat, drink, and be merry?”
Her mother and sisters had all gone inside, except Joanna, who was by now likely in alt over the beautiful mare they had just acquired.
Evo took Dorothea by the arm to lead her into the house and called over his shoulder to Miles, “I believe I have you to blame for this unforeseen side to my sister. When has she ever used words like ‘merry?’ Miles, what have you done to her?” Dorothea giggled at his side.
“And giggling,” Evo continued in disgust. “Oh,pleasedo not tell me this was a love match. I would never have given my blessing.”
“Too late,” Miles said, clasping a hand on Evo’s shoulder. “But never fear. You have four more sisters to keep from committing such a grave error as to marry for love. We shall count on you to see to it.”
“Oh no, we shall not,” Dorothea countered. “Every last one of them shall have their love match orIshall get involved and see to it. They must settle for nothing less.”
“No!” Evo and Miles both protested at once.
Dorothea looked at them in astonishment at the vehemence of their response. She set her hands on her hips, attempting an air of indignation. Miles and Evo took one look at her then both began to laugh, and after an abortive attempt to keep her dignity, she joined in.
“I’ve picked my room!”
Tilly ran down the stairs and passed them, going straight into the drawing room. Through the open door, the familiar voices of her mother and sisters sounded as they examined the paintings, the decorations, and the magnificent bouquet of fresh flowers that Miles had placed for her on the large round table at one end. He had given the gardeners instructions to plant freesias, knowing she liked them, and they were currently in a vase along with tall red and white roses.
When the hilarity died down, Miles slipped his arm around Dorothea’s waist. “There is only one love match I wish for you to worry about, and it is ours.” He kissed her soundly on the lips.
“I cannot bear it!” Evo groaned and threw up his hands as he walked into the drawing room.
“What about you?” Miles asked her, nuzzling a vulnerable spot on her neck that he knew she liked. “Do you think you can bear it?”
“Hmm.” Dorothea drew out the response as she pretended to think. “I suppose I can. But only for sixty more years or so.”
“Only that?” She heard his grin as he continued to ply her neck with little kisses.
“Not a day more.” She pulled away enough to treat him to a look of mock severity. “Everyone has their limits.”
