“You are the most critical brother I know,” Diana said. “But don’t worry. You’re not alone. Norris agreed to judge the music and your valet is doing the fashion.”
“So what part am I doing?”
“The food,” Verity said.
“Ah, that I can do. May I just ask one question: Where’s the marzipan, so I may sample it?”
“There isn’t any,” Verity said. “Lord Winston doesn’t like it, and Rosy’s not all that keen on it herself.”
“I see. Then that’s ten points off right there, for not considering their guests’ needs and wants.”
Diana eyed him askance. “Or rather, one particular guest’s needs and wants.”
Geoffrey drew himself up. “I’m the brother and the groomsman. I ought to get a say in whether there’s marzipan.”
“I told you he would make a terrible judge,” Diana said. “But give him a waterwheel and a mill, and he’ll give you a grade in a heartbeat.”
“Is that a category?” Geoffrey asked. “Because I will judge that all day long. I could judge the placement of the terrace right now, if you wish.”
“None of us wish that,” Eliza said.
“Not ever,” Diana added.
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“Oh, look, Rosy is throwing the bouquet,” Verity said and dragged Eliza off to try their luck.
“Do you mind if we sit down?” Diana asked. “His Lordship-to-be is kicking.”
Geoffrey hurried to her side, and she grabbed his hand to put it against the spot. He laughed when his child kicked again. “You realize it could be a girl.”
“That would be wonderful,” she said. “The baby could inherit the business.”
“We could horrify all of society again.”
For Geoffrey, that was probably more appealing. He loved horrifying society, which they did regularly. He started to lead her to their seats at the breakfast, and she whispered, “Would it be too awful if I sat in the drawing room for a few minutes, in that comfy chair by the fire?”
“Not for me, it wouldn’t.”
The two of them crept out and went straight to the drawing room. She released a blissful sigh as she lowered herself into the chair. “I won’t stay long.”
“I’m staying with you.”
“But the food—”
“Will wait,” he said firmly.
She eyed him closely. “How do you feel about Rosy marrying Winston?”
“She’s happy, which is all I ever wanted. And to be honest, so far he’s shown himself to be willing to work. If anything, he’s more interested in the estate work than I am.”
She laughed. “Admit it: You and my cousin work well together. You plan the engineering aspects of updating Castle Grenwood and the mine, and he takes care of the tenants and all of that.”
“All right. I confess he’s been quite an asset.”
“But I daresay you miss living in Newcastle,” she said.
He sat down on the sofa. “Rarely. So far, visiting has been enough. It took a while for the gossip to die down, but once people saw I acted no differently than before, and I was still hiring and paying people to work at Stockdon and Sons, they realized I wasn’t some high-and-mighty duke who couldn’t wait to be rid of my humble beginnings.”