“Well, not quite everything,” Hawk said, leaning down to ruffle his wife’s hair. “And he does look like me, Frances. That in itself tells the tale—men and husbands are much stronger, their will is the more—”
“I suggest,” said Lord Ruthven, grinning at his son-in-law, “that you retreat just a bit. Women, you know, Hawk, get strange notions.”
At that point, Charles Philip Desborough Hawksbury, Viscount Linley, let out a furious howl.
“Men begin very early,” Sophia observed, “to get their way.”
“And they never stop howling, Sophia,” Frances said. She saw that her husband was on the point of saying something in all likelihood very improper, and added quickly, “I shall feed this little man, then join you downstairs.”
Hawk kissed his wife, then joined his father and father-in-law.
Frances heard her father-in-law say, “Yes, indeed, my grandson will be a famous horseman and racer. I can see it in his eyes already.”
Hawk said, “He has Frances’ eyes, Father.”
“Just so, my boy,” said the marquess, “just so.”
Frances shook her head, imagining the look on her husband’s face.
She smiled up at Sophia as she unfastened her gown and put Charles to her breast.
“He is a beautiful child, Frances.”
“Yes, he is.”
“I thought that Hawk was going to box the doctor’s ears. He was in a state, my dear.”
“He always is,” said Frances, grinning. “What do you hear from Clare?”
“She is studying with Mr. Turner, a most unexpected honor for her. What is even more of a surprise, her husband most heartily approves.”
“I always believed Daniel to be a prize catch, and a most reasonable man,” said Frances.
Sophia’s eyes twinkled. “He is also beginning to believe himself much beleaguered, my dear. Viola is driving him wild with all her beaux. He complains that he is forever stumbling over her lapdogs, as he calls the young gentlemen. Of course, Adelaide merely smiles in that unconcerned way of hers.”
“You must tell Daniel that Adelaide will see that Viola’s lapdogs do nothing improper.” Frances stroked the black fuzz on top of her small son’s head. “Daniel will survive all Viola’s machinations.” she added.
Sophia shook her head. “When I think that Hawk could have possibly chosen Viola! Dear heavens, what a mismatch that would have been. Even more appalling is the thought of Hawk marrying Clare!”
“The marquess firmly believes in fate, Sophia. It is his august opinion that no matter my disguise or lack of one, I would have ended up with my husband. I wonder if that is true.”
Sophia chuckled. “All I can remember is wanting to throttle you, Frances!”
“Then you can imagine how Hawk feels upon occasion. It infuriates him when Otis and Mrs. Jerkins always side with me.”
“You are happy, are you not, Frances?”
“More than I could ever have imagined,” Frances said fervently, shifting her small son to her other breast. “And you, my little darling, will indeed be a great horseman. You do have my eyes, don’t you?” Frances raised her own sparkling eyes to her stepmother’s face. “I forgot to tell you, Sophia, but we are going to Ascot in two weeks.” She continued, her eyes lighting with anticipation. “Flying Davie is running, of course, as is Tamerlane.”
“I was most surprised to hear that Lord Delacort gave you the racer as a sort of belated wedding present.”
“I wasn’t,” said Frances in a droll voice. “I believe if the marquess would allow it, Lord Delacort would adopt Hawk. He visits often now. With poor Mr. Timmons in tow, of course.”
Sophia chuckled. “I understand from Hawk that you correspond with Amalie.”
“Yes indeed. She and her Robert are doing quite well with the farm.” Frances paused, sighing a bit. “It is odd, but I normally don’t remember all that awfulness. —Edmund killing himself, and Lord Dempsey shot whilst trying to escape from Mr. Uckley. I feel so sorry for Beatrice.”
“You wouldn’t, not any longer, my love, if you had seen her in London two weeks ago. Quite the belle, you know. Scandals are forgotten, particularly when the Countess of Rutherford runs off with her head groom! Now, that was most titillating!”