He barely finished the sentence before Grandmama hugged him. She was as tall as he was and managed to make him feel small and little. The hug broke something in his chest, and he swallowed past the lump in his throat.
Patrick joined them, hugging them both.
He took deep breaths, suddenly tired of feeling pain and being worried, of pretending he didn’t care about his face.
“Dear, dear boy.” Grandmama cupped Anthony’s good cheek. “We’ll go through this together as we always do. The Beauforts of Gloucester have never cowered in front of a challenge. We won’t start now.”
“You’ll grow a beard,” Patrick said. “And your hair as well. A long beard and long hair.”
Anthony smiled, but Grandmama glared at Patrick.
“How dare you make a joke?” she said.
Patrick shrugged. “I’m not joking.”
“Well, I disagree with the beard.” Grandmama tilted her chin up. “Anthony shouldn’t be ashamed. If anyone dares make a joke about you or disparage you, they’ll have to deal with me. You have nothing to hide.”
“Yes, we do,” Patrick said. “We didn’t reveal the real reason why Anthony was shot. Our silence coupled with that scar will have us drowned in rumours. People will make up their own stories about how Anthony got that scar. I’m ready to take the blame, as it should be.”
Grandmama stroked Anthony’s hair and took Patrick’s hand. “No one will hurt my dear grandchildren. Let the people talk. I don’t care what they say. Once Anthony is married and with an heir, the gossip will stop. Showing everyone that a lady married him is better than growing a beard.”
Anthony stepped back from her touch. Marriage. Just the thought of showing Isabella his face made him queasy. He had to accept his new face first before showing it to anyone else, and Isabella wasn’t the first one.
“I don’t want to think about marrying anyone now. I can barely tolerate staring at my own reflection. I can’t expect a bride to be happy to see my face every day.”
“That’s nonsense.” Grandmama regained her stern tone. “Your bride will be sensible enough to understand who you are without judging you for your scar. You’ve spent too much time cooped up in this room. Your spirits are low. Once you start going out again, everything will be better.”
“When I stare at myself without grimacing, I’ll be ready for a bride. Or for going out.” He was in no hurry. “I want Patrick to go to von Gruner’s meeting,” he said in the spur of the moment.
Grandmama and Patrick showed matching shocked faces.
“Me?” Patrick pointed a finger at himself.
“Anthony, you must go.” Grandmama didn’t show mercy.
“Von Gruner invited me to his house in Cabo Verde. Needless to say, I’m not able to undertake such a long journey. At the same time, if I refuse the meeting and ask for more time, he won’t send a second invitation, no matter how many times I tell him I have health problems. We have this one opportunity, and I can’t go.”
He expected Patrick to complain. Instead, Patrick nodded.
“If you trust me, I’ll go.”
“Brooks and my solicitor will come with you and instruct you on what to say. You have a few weeks before leaving.”
“And on what not to say.” Scepticism crept into Grandmama’s voice. “Patrick isn’t ready.”
“I’m not ready either. The infection might start again if I travel to Cabo Verde.”
She wasn’t finished. “Then you must show yourself to the House of Lords.”
“No.”
“It’s your duty. You’ve been away for weeks, and you don’t have any physical impediments to prevent you from going.”
“I would say a face like mine is a physical impediment.”
Grandmama opened her mouth, but Patrick cut her off.
“Grandmama,” Patrick said. “Have some mercy.”
