Page 11 of A Scandal at Stonecliffe

Everyone turned to see them, and Adeline rushed forward, hands outstretched. “Nathan. Dear boy. It’s a delight to see you again.” She turned to Rose. “And you must be exceedingly happy to have him home.”

Adeline chatted with the three of them until there was an imperious thump of a cane across the room. “Don’t just stand there talking, Adeline. Let them in.”

Adeline quickly stepped aside and everyone else parted like the Red Sea before Moses, forming an aisle straight to an ornate chair where Lady Lockwood sat. Nathan started forward, dragging Petunia, who remained firmly latched onto his shoe, along with him.

“For goodness’ sake, Annabeth, come get that dog,” Lady Lockwood ordered.

Annabeth hurried forward, but Nathan hastily grabbed up Petunia before she could bend down to pick up the pug. She smiled as Nathan passed the animal off to her. “Sorry.”

Nathan stared at her. His mother had said she was pregnant, but he had not expected her to be so well along. When he’d first seen her after he got home only three months ago, she hadn’t been showing at all. Still, even if hadn’t seen her swelling stomach, he would have known the truth by her face. Her skin shone, her eyes were alight, and her joy was palpable. Any lingering worry Nathan had that she might be unhappy with Sloane was thoroughly resolved. Everything was just as it should be, however painful the road to get there had been.

“Take your time, Dunbridge,” Lady Lockwood said in a tone that was in direct opposition to her words. “It was a shock to us all to see Annabeth. I’m sure you didn’t expect her to be quite this pregnant. I was too polite to say anything, of course, but one can’t help but wonder if she will eventually birth a house.”

Annabeth deposited the wriggling pug into Lady Lockwood’s lap with perhaps a bit more force than was necessary.

“It’s a good thing you are so polite,” Nathan recovered enough to tell Lady Lockwood, then turned to Annabeth. “I see you’re still spry enough to chase Petunia, though.”

“Yes, for my sins,” Annabeth chuckled. “How are you? It seems forever.”

“I’m quite well. Married life is obviously agreeing with you.”

Annabeth laughed. “I’m as wide as a barn, and you needn’t pretend otherwise. Sloane is convinced I am going to have twins.”

“But you’re glowing,” Nathan replied. “I know you’re happy. And I couldn’t be happier for you.”

“Nathan Dunbridge,” Lady Lockwood trumpeted. “You can chitchat later. Come here, boy, and let me look at you. I may have forgotten you after all this time. Your absence has been almost as irksome as your former omnipresence at my home used to be.”

Nathan went up to the Lady Lockwood and bowed. “My lady. It’s so good to see you again.” It was the truth. In some strange way, he was fond of the cantankerous old woman.

“Humph. You still make an elegant bow, Dunbridge. Welcome home.” She gave a regal nod of dismissal, and Nathan stepped back. Everyone else moved in to greet him. Sloane’s father, Marcus—what was he doing here?—was first, followed by all the others in an almost dizzying array.

Even Sloane had a grin and a pleasant greeting for him. If marriage and impending motherhood had made Annabeth glow, it had clearly softened Sloane’s personality. Nathan doubted that they would ever be good friends, but he’d known Sloane forever, and now that they were no longer snarling over Annabeth, Sloane seemed like less an enemy and more like one of those annoying sort of cousins that one can’t get rid of.

“Nathan! Nathan!” a boy shouted, tearing into the room and running at him.

Nathan laughed and picked him up. “Oof. My goodness, Gil, you’ve become big.”

“I’m six now,” Gil explained. “I can ride my pony without any leading rein. And I can read and do sums.”

“I can see you’re practically grown up,” Nathan said.

Gil leaned in and said in a reassuring voice, “But I still like to play with my soldiers.”

“Excellent. Then we shall have a battle next time I come, eh?”

“Yes.” Gil nodded and jumped down, announcing to the room at large, “I’m going to dinner and bed now.” He went first to Lady Lockwood and made a proper bow, then kissed her cheek.

Gil made a tour of the room then left, taking Petunia with him. And, much to everyone’s relief, Sterling’s giggling girls were shepherded out by the eldest daughter. The group was further reduced when Adeline took Rose and Jocelyn for a tour of her gardens, and at last it was possible to carry on an actual conversation.

Nathan was talking to Carlisle and Noelle about his stay in Paris when Bennett, the Rutherfords’ dignified butler, came into the room and said in disapproving tones, “A Mr. Malcolm Douglas asking to speak to you, Mr. Dunbridge.”

Everyone there turned to look at the man who had followed Bennett into the room. He was blond-haired and had a pleasant, open face. Mr. Douglas looked puzzled but smiled, and said in a Scottish brogue, “I’m afraid there’s a mistake. I came to see George Dunbridge. I inquired at his manor, and they said Mr. Dunbridge was here.”

“I am Nathan Dunbridge, George’s son. I’m afraid my father is deceased.” Nathan came forward. “Perhaps I can help you. Now is not a good time, but we could talk tomorrow if you would like to come back to the manor.”

The visitor’s look turned mulish. “I won’t be fobbed off. I’ll have my say.”

Nathan suppressed his irritation. He figured it might be easier to let the man say whatever it was so he would leave. “Very well. Why was it you wished to speak to my father?”