“I’ll be there in a minute,” William promised. “I’m going to require tea.”
She found the drawing room in disarray. Charles was explaining something involving marketing graphs and charts to her mother, who was nodding along with polite attention and glazed eyes. Georgiana sat at the piano, picking out Christmas carols while Lydia leaned against the bench, providing commentary that was making Georgiana laugh.
In the centre of it all, Malcolm stood with his arms crossed, glowering at Richard.
“What seems to be the trouble?” Elizabeth asked, settling into the nearest chair.
“He’s been lying to us,” Malcolm announced, pointing an accusing finger at his brother. “For months! Living a double life! Conducting secret relationships!”
“One relationship, and it wasn't a secret,” Richard protested, but Elizabeth caught the telltale flush creeping up his neck. “Just because I didn’tmention—”
“That you’ve been seeing someone for six months!” Malcolm interrupted. “Six months, Elizabeth! He’s been sneaking around like a romantic spy!”
“I haven’t been sneaking—”
“Meeting her for coffee! Taking her to the theatre! Ringing her with flowers!” Malcolm’s voice rose with each accusation. “Flowers, Darcy! The man who once told me that flowers were ‘a waste of good money for something that dies in a week’ has been buying flowers!”
Elizabeth bit back a smile. “Howscandalous.”
“Itisscandalous!” Malcolm turned to her with the wounded expression of someone whose entire worldview had been shattered. “We had an agreement! A sacred bachelor’s pact! No serious relationships, no emotional entanglements, no—”
“No happiness?” Kitty called from her position by the window, where she was taking what appeared to be her hundredth photograph of the snowy grounds.
Malcolm shot her a look that could have curdled milk. “We were supposed to be the sensible ones. The voice of reason while you all succumbed to romantic nonsense.”
“And now there’s only you,” Mary said with obvious amusement. “The last man standing. How does it feel to be bachelorhood’s sole defender?”
“Lonely,” Malcolm complained, collapsing into an armchair with the dramatic flair of a Victorian heroine. “Abandoned. Betrayed.”
“Her name’s Sophie.” Something in Richard's voice made the entire room go still. “Dr. Sophie Singh. She’s a paediatric surgeon at Great Ormond Street.”
The silence stretched for a moment, and Elizabeth saw Malcolm’s expression change from theatrical outrageto something softer.
“A paediatric surgeon,” Lydia said. “Bloody hell, Richard. You don’t mess about, do you?”
“Language, Lydia,” Mary called. Elizabeth didn't know why Mary bothered, Lydia never listened.
“And you’ve been seeing her six months?” Jane asked, appearing in the doorway with her ring safely back on her finger where it belonged.
“Seven,” Richard admitted. “And before you ask, yes, it’s serious. Very serious. We’ve talked about marrying.”
The explosion of voices that followed this announcement was immediate and overwhelming. Lydia shrieked with delight, Kitty demanded to see photos, Mary launched into what sounded like a sociological analysis of relationship progression patterns, and their mother began asking detailed questions about Sophie’s family and professional qualifications.
Through it all, Malcolm sat in his chair looking like a man who’d just watched his entire way of life crushed into dust.
“Mate,” Charles settled onto the arm of Malcolm’s chair with obvious sympathy. “You know you’re still invited to all our weddings, right? You don’t have to find someone just because we have.”
“Don’t you though?” Lydia asked with devastating directness. “I mean, what are you going to do at all these couple dinner parties? Sit at the end talking to yourself?”
“Lydia!” Elizabeth scolded, but Malcolm was laughing, making a sound somewhere between amusement and despair.
“She’s not wrong,” he said. “I’m going to be the odd, eccentric single cousin who turns up to family gatherings alone and makes everyone feel awkward.”
“You could get a dog.” Kitty patted Waffles on the head. “Dogs are excellent company.”
“Or take up a hobby,” Mary added. “Pottery. Running. Karaoke.”
William entered wearing the happy but overwhelmed expression he got when her family reached peak volume. He had poured out two cups of tea and he handed her one. “Everything under control?”
