Devil raised his brows. "What news?"
"The impending extension of our family."
"Really?" Devil grinned and thumped Vane on the shoulder. "Excellent. Another playmate for Sebastian."
Both Richard, beaming and shaking hands with Vane, and Vane himself, stopped and turned to stare at Devil.
"Another?" Vane asked.
Devil grinned even more as he resettled his shoulders against the bedpost. "Well, you didn't think I'd stop at just one, did you?"
They hadn't, but… "When?" Richard asked.
Devil shrugged nonchalantly. "Sometime in summer."
Richard hesitated, then raised a brow and sank back. "Sounds like our respective mothers and aunts will be in alt. Nothing they like better than a baby or two." Or three. But he kept his lips shut on that point and looked at Vane. "So what happened when you got to Somersham?"
"We arrived mid-morning, one hour after Helena and the twins, who she's been chaperoning about, got in from the Ashfordleighs-we didn't even get a chance to get out of our coats. Your mother had read Honoria's note and got the bit well and truly between her teeth even before we arrived. Nothing would do but she must rush north to your side-to your deathbed, as she put it. As usual, it was impossible to gainsay her-and, of course, I couldn't let her go rushing through the snow with just the twins for escort. Well," Vane gestured, "you can imagine what it was like. Mrs. Hull on the stairs with Sebastian in her arms declaring you were at death's door. Webster all but wringing his hands and making unhelpful suggestions as to how best to reach the Lowlands. The twins oohing and aahing and trying not to remember Tolly's death. And your mother, center stage, vowing she would fight through drifts on her hands and knees to get to your side in time. In time for what, I didn't ask."
"To make a long story short, I didn't stop them because I couldn't. The push north had gathered so much momentum before we arrived that it was beyond my poor ability to deflect."
Richard grimaced in exasperated understanding. "Couldn't you at least have left the twins behind?"
Vane eyed him straitly. "Have you tried recently to turn the twins-independently or in concert?"
Richard blinked at him. "But they're only girls."
"That's what I keep trying to tell them-they seem to have different ideas."
"Humph!" Richard settled deeper into his prison. "Well, they won't be able to test their wings here-it's as quiet as a nunnery."
An hour later, Catriona presided over the noisiest dinner she could ever recall. It wasn't that anyone raised their voices, or spoke above the tone of polite conversation. But the sudden injection of Cynster elegance, wit and curiosity had spawned innumerable conversations, both at the main table, where all the guests sat, and at all the tables in the hall, filled by her household.
Everyone was chattering animatedly.
The wash of sound did not give her a headache-not at all. It was comforting, in some ill-defined way. There was warmth in the laughter, in the interest and attention, in the real affection so openly displayed. There was a human element the Cynsters had brought to the vale that, somehow, had been missing before. She wasn't quite sure what it was, but…
In her habitual role as head of the household, she kept an eye on the courses, making sure her guests needs were met. Everything ran smoothly-indeed, despite the totally unexpected influx, no serious problem had occurred.
Her gaze, at that instant, resting on the Dowager, Catriona inwardly grinned. Everything had gone right, because nothing dared go wrong, not before the Dowager and Honoria. Patience was less forceful a personality, at least on the surface, but even she could command when she wished. She'd called both the twins and her husband to order very effectively that morning.
Catriona inwardly frowned. Vibrant, effective matriarchs did not fit her earlier vision of what Cynster wives must be like. Recalling what had given rise to that transparently inaccurate view, she waited until Honoria, beside her, was free, then caught her eye. "I know," she murmured, leaning closer and lowering her voice, "what the bare circumstances of Richard's birth were. What I can't quite understand"-her gaze flicked to the Dowager-"is how his acceptance into the family came about."
Honoria grinned. "It is difficult to see-unless one has previously met Helena. Then… anything becomes possible." She lowered her voice. "Devil told me that when Richard was dumped, a squalling babe of a few months, on the ducal doorstep, Helena heard the ruckus, and before Devil's father had a chance to hide matters, Helena simply-literally-took Richard out of his hands." She paused and sent an affectionate glance up the table to the Dowager. "You see, Helena loves children, but after Devil, she couldn't have any more of her own. The one thing she most yearned for was another-especially another son. So, when Richard arrived, in her inimitable way she decided it was all Providence's doing and claimed him as her own. The trick w
as, by then, she was well established as Devil's father's duchess-a veritable power within the ton. Quite simply, none had the gall to gainsay her-where was the point? Helena could have socially destroyed most people with nothing more than a raised brow."
"I'm surprised Devil's father was so… acquiescent."
"Acquiescent? From all I've heard of him, I doubt the term would apply. But he sincerely loved Helena-the accident that resulted in Richard's birth was more in the way of him comforting Richard's mother than in any intended infidelity. And so he indulged Helena-he loved her enough to allow her the one thing she asked of him in recompense: he allowed her to claim Richard and bring him up as her own, something which unquestionably gave her great and abiding pleasure."
Again, Honoria glanced affectionately at the Dowager. Catriona did the same.
"So," Honoria concluded, "Richard's birth has been an open secret for thirty years, and, really, no one cares any more. He's simply Richard Cynster, Devil's brother-and as the family approve of that, who's to argue?"
Catriona shared a glance with Honoria, then smiled and touched her arm. "Thank you for telling me."
Honoria returned the smile, then looked around, alerted by the deep rumble of her spouse's voice. She promptly called him to order, taking up verbal cudgels in the twins' defense. The head of their house was dissatisfied with their appearance-in what way he refused to clarify.