“You can call him Uncle,” Richard said.
Nick could not presume that intimacy yet. He couldn’t explain why, so he just nodded and walked out to the river.
Darcy was where he said he would be with Elizabeth. The two held each other, and Nick praised the Heavens that his brother had found happiness. Elizabeth was a capable lady with a witty tongue and a kind heart. She’d always be a comfort to Darcy.
Nick walked up to them, teasing, “Ye’ll have to marry her now, Darcy.”
His brother had a wider smile than Nick had seen him show before this. “I intend to. Perhaps we ought to apply for licenses and make it a double wedding.”
Alex clapped her hands, but Nick wastoo stunned to react. Darcy had not known Nick for a fortnight, and he would share his wedding day with him?
Darcy dropped his voice, and Nick understood his words were meant only for him. “I would like my brother to be a part of the most important day of my life.”
Nick shook his head, speechless. He didn’t deserve Darcy’s unrestrained acceptance.
Alex jerked on his arm. “All this plannin’ makes me hungry.”
“Have you ever enjoyed a Bath bun?” Miss Rothschild asked.
“I’ll warn ye, Emily—Can I call ye that? Miss Rothschild’s such a mouthful.”
Miss Rothschild graciously smiled. “Of course, you may. If Miss Elizabeth agrees to address me the same.”
“I am Elizabeth, or Lizzy, to you.” Elizabeth arched an eyebrow, her gaze flickering to Richard ever so briefly. So, Nick wasn’t the only one who thought they’d make a winning match. Nick’s admiration grew. It was easy to like people who agreed with you.
“What did you wish to warn me about, Alex?” Miss Rothschild asked.
“I’ve been spoiled most of me life with a French chef. I’m not easy to satisfy at the table.”
Miss Rothschild was not discouraged. “Then you must have a Sally Lunn bun. They are teacakes. I have only ever managed to eat half—they are massive—but I think you shall like them.”
They squeezed into a carriage and returned to the Royal Crescent before nightfall with a basket of buns too light to have much substance.
Nick devoured the top half. It was smothered with butter and cinnamon. To the bottom portion, he added the cheeses and cold cuts Darcy’s housekeeper provided on a large tray. Had the bun not been so delicious, he might’ve been tempted to save a portion for Jean-Christophe. Maybe he could secure a few more for their trip.
Mr. Bennet was delighted with the idea. And Lord Matlock declared the recipe unchanged since the last time he’d eaten a Bath bun in his youth.
Lord Matlock dabbed his mouth and spread his hands over his middle. “We must rest for the morrow. It promises to be a busy day.”
“Do we have no other name or residence? No clue besides the cemetery?” Darcy asked.
Miss Rothschild sipped her tea. She’d only eaten through half of the top of her bun. “My detectives have found no living relatives. Mrs. Brown was raised in an orphan asylum until she ran away. All of the institution’s records were destroyed in a flood. As far as they learned, she did not maintain any friendships after she left.”
“We ought to make inquiries anyway,” Mr. Bennet suggested.
Darcy frowned. “Mrs. Currey had no family either.”
Elizabeth had nearly managed to clearhalf of her bun. “Do you think Mrs. Finchley selected nurses without family or close friends on purpose?”
“We cannot discount any possibility,” Darcy answered, “but we must not hasten to believe the worst of her before we have all the facts.”
Elizabeth blushed. “You will never forget how I misjudged your character, will you?”
Mr. Bennet raised the last of his bun in the air. “Not if he is as intelligent as we know him to be. We gentlemen must use every advantage to maintain a level field, my dear.”
“Papa! You would compare our relationship to a battlefield?”
“Loveisa battlefield,” he declared, popping the last bite into his mouth and closing his eyes as he chewed. There was a man who enjoyed a teacake.
