“Late summer or early fall, Kate obligingly informs me. Now, I must go. I’ll leave you now to the mercy of your man of business. You know, Jason, you’re always welcome at Grosvenor Square?”
“Oh yes. Who wouldn’t welcome such a nobleman as myself to his home?”
The earl of March just grinned at him and rose to take his leave. “You will take care, won’t you, Jason?”
“As always,” the marquess said.
“Oh my goodness, Miss Hetty, do wake up now. You’ll not believe who just landed on our doorstep. Oh lordie, what a shock it is.”
Hetty jerked the covers over her head. “Oh, Millie, no, not yet. It can’t be time for luncheon, not yet, please. Just another thirty minutes, even twenty.”
“Come, Miss. It’s Sir John and Lady Louisa. Sir John was surprised that you weren’t up and about.”
“But I have a hangover. You wouldn’t believe the number of bottles of champagne well, that’s neither here nor there. Jack and Louisa, here? But no one told me they were coming. You’re right, what a shock.”
“They’re here nonetheless. In the drawing room, Miss, with Sir Archibald. You might well guess that he’s fairly itching to be gone. You must hurry, else they will be left quite alone with poor Grimpston wringing his hands.”
Hetty groaned and swung her bare feet to the floor, wiggling her toes about for the warmth of her slippers. “Is Little John with them?”
“No, just their servants and mountains of luggage. Blink your eyes, Miss Hetty. It will make the puffiness go down. Here now, here’s your shift. Ah, you have a royal headache, do you? A hangover, you said? You?”
Hetty just groaned.
“My baby has a hangover. The good Lord preserve us, a hangover, just like a bloody man. No, don’t hold your head in your hands. You’ve got to be still. Your hair is a mess of tangles.”
Hetty moaned. “Bring me some coffee first, Millie. If you don’t want me to die, bring me coffee.”
Chapter Thirteen
After two cups of coffee and holding her face in ice-cold water for three minutes, Hetty decided she would live. Not twenty minutes after that decision, she was walking down the main staircase, wondering what in heaven’s name Jack and Louisa were doing in London, and with no warning.
Grimpston was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs. “Sir Archibald just retired to his study. Mrs. Miller will bring tea and morning cakes to the drawing room within the next five minutes. Sir Jack and Lady Louisa are comfortable but getting restive.”
“Thank you,” she said, and nearly ran to the drawing room. “Jack, Louisa. How wonderful to see you.” But why, she wanted to demand, didn’t you at least write me a letter?
She took two quick steps into the room and found herself swooped up in a tight embrace. “Ah, Jack, you wretched giant, you’re breaking my ribs.” She was laughing, her arms tight about her brother’s neck.
“Don’t crush her just yet, Jack. I want to hug her first.”
“My little Hetty’s made of stern stuff, Lou,” Sir John said, but drew back, releasing Hetty. He studied her pale face and felt the months roll back to the past summer. Damn, she was still mourning Damien. He suppressed his own pain at the thought of his brother, and said, lightly cuffing her shoulder, “Not on the go too much, are you, kitten?”
Hetty saw the concern in her brother’s blue eyes. She couldn’t see herself telling him she’d drunk too much champagne with her cronies the night before and was suffering for it this morning. “Oh no, don’t worry about me. But you know, London is a busy town and there’s so much to do. Everyone here is always struggling to get enough sleep. Now, let me go, for it has been an age since I’ve seen Louisa.”
Hetty gathered the smaller Louisa into her arms and kissed her cheek. “You’re looking wonderful. So marriage with my brother here suits you?”
“I nearly have him trained, Hetty. He scarcely ever tries to climb on the furniture or whines at the front door.”
There was a loud snort from Sir Jack.