Stephen turned from the vicar just as his mother swayed and Barcloe caught her. For a moment the viscount’s formal, inscrutable face seemed suffused with rare emotion, then he picked her up and carried her to his own carriage. As he placed boot on the step-up, Stephen reached out to catch his arm. As Barcloe’s head turned, anger flashed across his face and Stephen dropped his hand away stunned by more evidence of strong emotion from this normally emotionless man.
Stephen grasped his arm as Edwin moved to the step up. He fought down a snarl at the impediment and turned his head. “Yes,Kenswick?” he inquired. Stephen blinked and seemed to stagger under the weight of responsibility of what that title meant, then steadied and offered, “Will she be alright, my lord? You know she’s not strong.”
Barcloe stepped back down with a sigh of frustration, motioned Stephen and Katherine in ahead of him and stepped up to place his mother gently in Stephen’s arms, smoothing her skirts down and sprawling in the seat across from them crossing his outstretched legs. He surveyed the immediate countryside from the carriage as it pulled away and began to sway before turning his silver gaze on Stephen. “Who told you your mother is not strong? She’s the strongest woman I know.”
“Sorry, my Lord, but she has stayed in the country all this time for health reasons that I am not willing to discuss. Nevertheless, I can tell you that for the last ten years, she has not been well. Only recently has she begun to go about on social outings.” Stephen watched as Barcloe assimilated this information. This was his first opportunity to observe his cousin in a casual setting.
He knew his father had greatly admired the Viscount when they were both young men, and that Stephen was, in essence, the Viscount’s heir, as his father had been before him. The current Viscount Barcloe was widowed with one daughter. His wife and son had died in childbirth and he had not remarried. However, Stephen was much more familiar with the Viscount’s father, the Marquess of Barrington, since his grandmother had lived near Barcloe House at Duclose.
The old Marquess was an adventurer and an enigma, a man of secrets and excitements. He delighted in puzzles of all sorts, words, letters, languages and numerals. Stephen’s mother was the same and spent much time in correspondence with him exchanging views on this puzzle and that one.
Stephen grasped his arm as Edwin moved to the step up. He fought down a snarl at the impediment and turned his head. “Yes,Kenswick?” he inquired. Stephen blinked and seemed to stagger under the weight of responsibility of what that title meant, then steadied and offered, “Will she be alright, my lord? You know she’s not strong.”
Barcloe stepped back down with a sigh of frustration, motioned Stephen and Katherine in ahead of him and stepped up to place his mother gently in Stephen’s arms, smoothing her skirts down and sprawling in the seat across from them crossing his outstretched legs. He surveyed the immediate countryside from the carriage as it pulled away and began to sway before turning his silver gaze on Stephen. “Who told you your mother is not strong? She’s the strongest woman I know.”
“Sorry, my Lord, but she has stayed in the country all this time for health reasons that I am not willing to discuss. Nevertheless, I can tell you that for the last ten years, she has not been well. Only recently has she begun to go about on social outings.” Stephen watched as Barcloe assimilated this information. This was his first opportunity to observe his cousin in a casual setting.
He knew his father had greatly admired the Viscount when they were both young men, and that Stephen was, in essence, the Viscount’s heir, as his father had been before him. The current Viscount Barcloe was widowed with one daughter. His wife and son had died in childbirth and he had not remarried. However, Stephen was much more familiar with the Viscount’s father, the Marquess of Barrington, since his grandmother had lived near Barcloe House at Duclose.
The old Marquess was an adventurer and an enigma, a man of secrets and excitements. He delighted in puzzles of all sorts, words, letters, languages and numerals. Stephen’s mother was the same and spent much time in correspondence with him exchanging views on this puzzle and that one.
