Page 71 of The Governess and the Rogue

“It’s certainly become my motto,” Charles replied dutifully.

“A wise man,” James remarked. He set his hand at Hannah’s waist, exchanging a warm glance with her as they ascended the stone steps after the still-chattering children.

Theirs was another love match, the embers of which were still burning brightly, even after four children and over a decade of marriage.

Once, Jack might have been jealous. Just as he’d sometimes been jealous of Kate’s and Ivo’s blissful unions. They had fallen in love when they were young, with marriage and children coming soon after.

Jack’s own life had followed a different pattern. He hadn’t met the girl he wanted to marry in his youth. Hadn’t ever fallen in love. Until quite recently, he’d begun to believe he never would.

“Now,” Kate said. “If only Ivo and Meg would give up their house in London and move home to the West Country. They’d be far happier here than in town, don’t you think? And then all the children could be together in one big⁠—”

Her voice was drowned out by the clatter of carriage wheels.

“Speak of the devil,” Charles said.

A hired coach and four rolled briskly up the drive. Two ginger-haired, freckle-faced lads of ten and twelve were peering eagerly out the window. It was Ivo and Meg’s boys, Aldrick and Oscar. They had their mothers coloring—the only remnant left of Meg’s father, the late Sir Frederick Burton-Smythe, who had once been the mortal enemy of Jack’s own father.

Hannah and James turned on the steps. “What impeccable timing!” Hannah said. “That will be Ivo’s doing.”

“Some new-fangled calculation, knowing him,” James replied. He accompanied his wife back down the drive as the coach ground to a halt.

The two boys tumbled out first. They charged Jack with a duo of merry shrieks loud enough to rival that of their Heywood and Beresford cousins. “Uncle Jack! Uncle Jack!”

Ivo and Meg followed their children out of the carriage.

“Leave off, boys,” Ivo said to his sons. “Don’t knock your uncle down.”

The lads detached themselves just enough to make room for their father who strode forward to enfold Jack in a crushing hug. “My God it’s good to see you,” he said.

Jack hugged his brother back. “And you.”

“How’s the leg? Any improvement since the last surgery?”

“Not much. I require rest apparently.”

Ivo smiled broadly, the sunlight glinting off of his silver-framed spectacles. “Whatever that is.”

“Welcome home, J-Jack,” Meg stammered as she hugged Jack in turn. “You look well.”

Jack kissed her cheek. “So do you, Meg. How are you? How are the boys?”

“Happy,” she said. “Happy in London. Happy to see you.”

“Happy, full stop,” Ivo appended with a grin. “So? When do I get to meet your Miss Layton? She is here, isn’t she?”

“My question exactly,” Kate said.

“She’s inside,” Hannah told them. “And she’s lovely.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” Kate said. “Jack was always particularly discerning in that regard.”

“Enough of that,” Jack chided, only partially in jest. “You’ll put me to the blush.”

“Discernment is nothing to be ashamed of,” Kate retorted. “It means you have standards. So should we all.”

“Where are Nicholas and Arthur?” Aldrick asked, trotting up the steps alongside the adults.

“They’ve gone down to the kitchens with Mrs. Kirby,” James said.