“A subject we will discuss at a later time,” Damien said, waving a dismissive hand. “And you will meet him, too. His name is George. He is a good little boy who needs help finding his parents.”
Again, Caroline looked surprised that he would say such nice things. Jeremy, on the other hand, only looked even more curious about the subject, so Damien moved forward before his little brother started to ask a no-doubt long list of questions.
“We need to celebrate your return, Jeremy,” Damien announced. “It has been too long since you left the shores of England, and there will be many excited to see you again.”
“Yes indeed,” Jeremy agreed readily with an assertive nod. “I demand a ball in my honor! I have missed so much in these past years. I need to have my fill of all the gossip.”
His joking tone earned another laugh from Caroline, and again, Damien felt his heart throb at the sound.
So beautiful.He gently squeezed her calf, a quiet show of his appreciation, and he was rewarded with another serene smile. He stroked his hand lower, wanting to please her more, and quietly slipped off her shoe so he could smooth the heel of his palm over the underside of her foot.
A soft sound dangerously close to a moan poured from her perfect lips, and Damien was forced to squeeze her little toe a bit too hard to bring her back to the present. She responded with a jolt, but did not pull her foot away from him as she straightened up and blinked away the haze of pleasure in her eyes.
“Tell me, Mr. Winterbourne,” Caroline began to say, but Jeremy hurriedly waved a hand through the air.
“Please, dear sister, do not use such formalities with me,” he replied jovially. “We are family now. Call me Jeremy, I do insist.”
Gratitude swept through Damien, happy to see that his little brother was willing to accept Caroline with open arms.
“Jeremy,” Caroline corrected herself, smiling fondly at the man. “Are there any particular names you would like to have on your guest list for the ball?”
“Oh, simply everyone,” Jeremy quipped, then brought his glass of wine to his lips. “I have kept in touch with many through correspondence. Then there are my friends who returned here after graduating from Oxford, while I went on my Grand Tour. It would be nice to see them all again.”
“No one in particular, though?” Caroline asked, raising her right brow. “Such as a certain young lady? Someone you might want to settle down with now that you are back?”
Damien’s arm shot up just as Jeremy coughed and spit out some of his wine, making him let go of Caroline’s foot. His sleeve caught the red drops instead of his face, but he was a little annoyed that he had to break contact with his wife. He frowned a little as he shook out his sleeve, but it quickly turned into a smile as he heard his brother’s response and felt Caroline place her other foot in his lap at the same time.
“Do be careful, Caroline dearest,” Jeremy teasingly warned. “For such words might summon our dear grandmother, and I certainly do not wish to awaken such a beast.”
This time, it was Damien who laughed, for he, too, remembered the matriarch incessantly urging both of them to marry young. He caught Caroline looking at him, and to his surprise, she had a fond smile on her lips, as if she might like the sound of his laughter as much as he liked hers.
“Our grandmother is a lovely woman,” Damien explained, taking pleasure in massaging her other foot. “However, she can be quite persistent at times. Especially with how she wants Jeremy and me to live our lives.”
“Yes, and while she means well, the darling dear, she does not quite understand that Damien and I have our own dreams inlife,” Jeremy added.
“What were you two like as boys?” Caroline asked, leaning forward with a curious smile. “Did you get into a lot of mischief?”
Jeremy’s eyes lit up at once.
Damien settled contentedly back in his chair, enjoying the way Caroline and Jeremy were so agreeable to one another’s company. He was not worried about Jeremy telling her about their father. Even though Jeremy was much more talkative than Damien was, there was a line that he would not cross. Such dark memories did not deserve to come to light, and they had both grown used to keeping them buried.
“Oh, where to begin,” he said, pressing a finger to his lips in mock deliberation. “There was the time Damien convinced our tutor that the library was haunted so that we would not have to sit through our Latin lessons. He spent three weeks making strange noises outside the man’s door at night before the poor fellow finally packed his bags and left.”
Caroline turned to Damien with wide eyes, and he lifted his shoulders in an unapologetic shrug.
“He was a dreadful teacher,” Damien said simply.
“He was perfectly adequate,” Jeremy corrected. “You simply despised Latin.”
“I still do.”
“And then,” Jeremy went on, “there was the incident with the chandelier, which I maintain to this day was entirely Damien’s fault—”
“It was entirelyyourfault,” Damien cut in.
“And which resulted in our grandmother refusing to speak to either of us for a fortnight,” Jeremy finished, ignoring him completely. “Though in hindsight, that fortnight of silence was rather pleasant.”
“What happened to the chandelier?” Caroline asked.
