Tristan merely chuckled and winked at her. “My apologies, darling. You know howravenousI can be during dinner.”
Cathy scoffed and pushed at him playfully. “I know you have a large appetite, but this time, we are not alone, Tristan.”
They were, indeed, not alone at the Huntington dining hall. The table was crowded with the whole family. Madeline’s heart was brimming with joy, surrounded by the people she cared about. Her grandpapa and grandmama, Portia and Selina, Tristan and Cathy, Malcolm and Kenneth. The conversations overlapped, but she knew that even without the words, even the silence between them would be comfortable.
Madeline sat quite close to Kenneth, confident that her shoulder brushing his arm would be welcome. Beneath the heavytablecloth, her hand rested on his knee, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. He did not move away from her, nor did he let go of her hand. Instead, his large hand captured hers and squeezed back.
“So, are we now doing what they are doing?” she whispered as she eyed Tristan leaning over to Cathy, who gave a melodic laugh in response to whatever it was he said.
“Well, your grandmama is very pleased,” Kenneth commented. “And my brother seems content and is also quite patient with your grandpapa.”
Madeline followed his gaze. Down the table, Malcolm had turned his chair toward Lord Marlow, who had him cornered with his ear trumpet raised.
“You have the look of a military man, Spruce,” the Baron declared. “Tell me, did you ever serve?”
“I am afraid not, my lord,” Malcolm said, raising his voice. “I never took a commission.”
“A fish on?” Lord Marlow’s brows shot up. “No, no, you would not catch a fish on a commission. You catch them with a line and a bit of patience. I once landed a pike the length of my arm, you know. Took me the better part of an afternoon.”
“A pike?” Malcolm leaned in, his smile widening. “You must tell me how.”
“Ah, now there is a young man with sense! Most of them only pretend to listen, but you? You have the makings of an angler.” Lord Marlow clapped him on the shoulder, delighted.
Madeline watched her brother-in-law indulge the old man, and something warm settled in her. The Malcolm of a few weeks agowould have drained six glasses by now and slipped away to pass out on the floor.
“Oh, I think he likes him,” Madeline said with a sigh. “My grandpapa likes you, as you know by now.”
“Do I know that?” Kenneth asked, raising an eyebrow.
At the other end of the table, Lady Marlow was beaming.
“A duke, betrothed to my Selina,” she said, loud enough for the whole room to hear. “I always knew this one would marry well. Did I not say so, Madeline? Did I not always say it?”
“You did, Grandmama,” Madeline agreed, smiling.
Selina blushed. “Grandmama, please. We do not have to talk about it again.”
“Of course we do! Your success is a boon to this family.” Lady Marlow turned her sharp eyes on Portia. “Which is more than I can say for you, child. Must you read at the dinner table?”
“I am listening,” Portia said, without lifting her gaze from her book.
“You will read yourself into spinsterhood. No gentleman wants a wife who prefers dead Greeks to a dance.”
“Then we are well matched,” Portia murmured. “For I want no gentleman.”
“Speaking of gentlemen,” Cathy said, glancing toward the empty chair at the end of the table. “Was Papa not invited tonight? I confess I half expected to find him here.”
“Invited?” Lady Marlow gave a short laugh. “My dear, the kindest thing Harleigh does for this family these days is stayaway. We should be grateful for his absences.”
Madeline pressed her lips together. Her father was a little better these days. His debts had been settled, and the creditors had stopped hounding him. He even drank less now, from what Madeline heard. But she did not let herself hope. She had seen him improve before, more than once, only to fall back into his old ways each time.
Beside her, Kenneth leaned in, his voice low enough for her alone. “Does it trouble you that he is not here?”
Before Madeline could answer his question, the dining room’s heavy doors flung open. The laughter and conversations in the room died down. A woman stepped over the threshold. She looked a little pale, but she was beautiful, with large eyes fringed with long lashes, and was a few inches taller than her, though still shorter than Cathy.
“Who is that?” Madeline whispered. “How did she get in here?”
But Kenneth did not answer. His jaw was clenched. It was clear he did not expect or like the woman’s appearance, even though he seemed to recognize her. For a heartbeat, the room was quiet, and nobody seemed ready to breathe. Even Lady Marlow looked confused about how to handle the situation, her eyes flying to Kenneth and Malcolm.
