Page 94 of Counting on Love

“He is intellectually curious. I’m letting him experiment upon me. Now, remove your noses from my business.”

They spent a moment absorbing the news that they had spent the last month in the company of a French prisoner of war.

“When are you going?” Jasper asked at last, settling back into his new chair, which had a creak rather than a squeak.

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow!” Jasper and Reginald both cried out.

“A little warning, Crisp,” Jasper sputtered.

“I am giving warning,” Crispin said. “It’s not as though I’m heading out now.”

Jasper shook his head, annoyed. “Yes, but I have to return to London at the end of the week. Parliament is open and I have to take my seat in the Lords. And there are…calls I have to pay.”

“That leaves you, Reg, watching over Mother and Olivia,” Crispin said, giving him a light punch on the shoulder. “If Giles hasn’t come to visit in the next couple of weeks, will you ride over to Ipswich?”

Jasper grumbled, “You’ve already extended a hand to him. If he wants to know us, it’s his turn.”

Ignoring Jasper, Reginald said, “Yes. I’ll go.”

Crispin sat down. “Good man.” He snickered a little. “Will you hint to him that Framingham will also be available sometime in the next few years?”

“Framingham is Reg’s,” Jasper said firmly. He drummed his fingers on his desk, looking as if he wished he had papers to shuffle.

“Reg?” Crispin said.

Reginald groaned. Crispin was making him think. Feel. He didn’t want to have this conversation. Or any conversation.

“It’s what Father wanted,” he said.

“Bosh.” Crispin leaned forward, pressing his hands into his knees. “It was his suggestion. He also suggested that I not go into the army but waste away in my bed.”

“Reg has to do something,” Jasper said. “He’s suited to the church—”

“Stop talking in your ‘earl’ voice,” Crispin mocked. “Reg, speak up. I am not fighting your battles for you.”

“What battles?” Jasper sounded offended.

“I don’t want Framingham,” Reginald said, scowling at them both.

“You don’t?” Jasper turned up his hands. “Well, the devil. I don’t care. But what will you do? You can keep your allowance, naturally, it’s just I don’t see you idle.”

“I don’t need an allowance. I’ve been offered a fellowship with Bastion. It isn’t much, but it’s enough. The work will take several years.”

Jasper stared at him as though he’d just sprouted horns.

Reginald continued stiffly, “I don’t know why we need to discuss this now. Framingham has a rector.”

“I’m just getting the ball rolling,” Crispin said. “Is there anything else we should be discussing before I go?”

“No.” Reginald made to stand.

“Ah. No?” Crispin said. Then he stood up, took Reginald by the shoulders, and pushed him back into the seat. It was idiotic, but if Reginald resisted, they would end up scuffling which would be even more childish. Crispin turned to Jasper. “What calls? What calls do you need to pay in London? Please tell me you need to see Vanessa.”

Jasper’s jaw set stubbornly. “Vanessa will not see me if I crawl to her on my hands and knees over broken glass. She asked one thing of me—that I tell her first when I decided I would court my countess.”

“And you didn’t?” Crispin’s face fell. “Jasp—”