Free A Dangerous Nativity by Caroline Warfield Page A

do nothing."
    Her words didn't assuage his guilt, but they
fed his determination to make it up. "He's gone, you know. Make
yourself believe it. If you let him continue to blight your
existence, you give him power over you still. Don't do it.
Flourish, instead. Your revenge will be joie de vivre."
    A twist of her mouth almost looked like a
smile.
    "Disobey his every rule, Sylvia. Defy his
every unreasonable dictate." He leaned his forehead to hers. "Fly
free."
    "Such as entertaining Lord Arthur's
family?"
    "Absolutely."
    "But there's something about that woman,
Catherine …"
    "Whatever it is, if it came from Emery, it is
poison, and we will not let it blight our lives!"
    She nodded, but Will wasn't convinced that
she meant it.
    When his sister shut the door, he slumped
against the wall. She looked skeptical and, he suspected, afraid.
Catherine's words came back to him. "Give her time." He couldn't
undo eleven years of damage in a few months.
    How am I to endure years of this? If he had
to do it alone, he couldn't bear it.
    For now, he had boys to oversee. I need to
remind them to hang mistletoe. A smile took hold, and he stood a
bit taller. He hurried to the family parlor.

Chapter Eight
    Now for the hard part, Will thought, when he
entered the family parlor.
    The Wheatlys' arrival had gone smoothly,
primarily because Will had thrown the fear of God—or of being
turned off—into Stowe. Lord Arthur looked relieved to be in the
guest wing, where fewer memories haunted him. The boys greeted cots
in the nursery with hoots of joy. Catherine looked merely resigned,
until she saw that her room looked out over the gardens. He
expected that, by morning, she would have drawn up plans to restore
them.
    Dinner also passed without incident. Lord
Arthur remarked that he had few memories of the dining salon.
    "I was seldom at home, you see, once I was an
adult," he had said.
    Stunned silence greeted that pronouncement,
and Will once again offered a prayer of gratitude for Glenaire. The
marquess diverted the discussion smoothly.
    Both Sylvia and Catherine made a greater
effort than they had at the previous dinner. Catherine's
disinterest in fashion and Sylvia's distaste for crop rotation
limited them, however, and only Glenaire's gambits kept the
conversation flowing. When the ladies rose, they left the gentlemen
to their port with no sign of animosity.
    "That went well," Will mused, holding his
crystal glass out for the footman to fill.
    A rueful smile lit Glenaire's austere face.
"I've had an easier time managing conversation at diplomatic
dinners with the Prussians and French."
    "I'm sorry, Chadbourn. Returning here will
take some adjustment," Lord Arthur said.
    "No apology necessary," Will said.
    "Indeed not. I found the discussion about
your research fascinating," Glenaire added. Will couldn't tell if
the marquess was serious, but the remark, and the relief it brought
to Lord Arthur's face, gratified him.
    "My Catherine isn't used to this, but she
managed it well."
    "Your Catherine would grace any dinner, Lord
Arthur." Will meant it. Her breeding showed in the very line of her
wrist when she ate, in her tone of voice, and in her instinctive
good manners.
    The old man preened.
    "Harrow for the Michaelmas term, is it?"
Glenaire asked.
    Lord Arthur worried his lower lip. "I fear
so," he said at last.
    "Don't fear it. It will serve them well,"
Glenaire answered.
    "I can't tell you how relieved I am to send
Charles off with his cousins. I went alone, and the first term felt
like Hell." He and Glenaire caught eyes and let a happy memory pass
between them.
    "Friends matter. I agree," the marquess said.
"You are blessed, both of you, to send them off with ready-made
allies."
    The conversation veered easily into
remembered teachers, shared love—and distaste—for various subjects,
and some of the happier times at school.
    Will sent a footman to tell the boys they
could join the family, and the three men rose. The earl felt
satisfied with