Page 53 of Black and Silver

Minerva looked as though she might melt with gratitude at the kindness Mrs. Weatherby was offering. She glanced questioningly to Lawrence, though.

“Go,” Lawrence charged her with a nod. “I will explain to everyone here.”

A few instructions were given to deliver baggage to the proper rooms, arrangements were made to move the statue that had caused so much trouble into the castle, and Mrs. Weatherby vowed to see that everything was thoroughly laundered, as she supposed it was not in the best condition after their journey.

Once that was taken care of, Lawrence braced himself, then headed up to the great hall, where he was certain his father and anyone else in the family would be.

As expected, not only was his father there, sitting in his usual chair by the fire, Dunstan was ensconced in the window seat he favored, and to Lawrence’s horror, Waldorf and his new bride, Lady Katherine, were there as well. Not only that, they leapt up as soon as Lawrence entered the room.

“Is it true that Minerva is still alive?” Lady Katherine asked, radiating anxiety and hope.

Lawrence felt himself flush even before he said, “Er, yes, there seems to have been some sort of misunderstanding.”

Lady Katherine exclaimed wordlessly in surprise and relief, then asked, “Where is she? What condition is she in? I must go to her at once,” as she marched across the room.

“Mrs. Weatherby has taken her to the duchess’s sitting room,” Lawrence said. “She is still suffering the remnants of a particularly bad head cold, but she will tell you that she is well.”

Lady Katherine made a noise that might have been thanks, but her attention was already elsewhere entirely, and within seconds, she had fled the room to be with her friend.

That left Lawrence to face his father, brother, and cousin alone.

“We had your letter,” Dunstan said as he got up to join them as they crossed to the fireplace.

“You said that Lady Minerva was on death’s door,” Lawrence’s father called out to him even before their group made it to the sacred space where his favorite chair was located. Lord Gerald did not, of course, deign to rise to greet his son. “You wrote that it was not likely she would recover.”

“Hello, Father,” Lawrence said, smiling as genuinely as he could, under the circumstances, and leaning over to kiss Lord Gerald’s cheek.

“Do not ‘hello’ me,” Lord Gerald said gruffly, though he hugged Lawrence and patted his back as he did. “A maid has just told us you have arrived with a very much alive Lady Minerva Llewellyn. Explain yourself.”

Lawrence sighed as he straightened. He glanced to Waldorf, then Dunstan, then focused on his father.

“Lady Minerva was, indeed, taken ill along our journey. She was quite ill indeed with a fever for days. I was deeply worried about her.”

“So that is why you wrote that she was dying,” Dunstan said, seemingly satisfied with the explanation.

“Er, I did not write the letter,” Lawrence confessed, lowering his head.

The three other men suddenly seemed to understand. They had known Lawrence for most of his life and theirs. They were all well aware of his struggles with the written word.

“Did you not think to have whomever penned the letter for you read it aloud so that you were aware of its contents?” Waldorf asked, frowning at Lawrence as if he were a dolt.

Then again, for most of their lives, Waldorf actually did think he was a dolt. More so than the others, at least. But then, Waldorf had never been very good at expressing his affection, which Lawrence knew was there, or holding his tongue when the words coming out of his mouth were sharp.

“I was distressed over Lady Minerva’s health,” Lawrence explained, perhaps a bit more forcefully than was necessary when he glanced to Waldorf. He then added, “I love her.”

That caused another round of surprise and incredulity from the others.

“Do you hear that, Dunstan?” Lord Gerald asked with a broad smile. “It seems as though you are to be the heir to this castle after all.”

Dunstan sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “I suppose I always knew my fate would be a terrible one,” he said.

Lawrence wanted to console his cousin, but at that moment, Silas and one of the castle footmen came through the door, carrying the statue.

“Good God. What is that?” Waldorf asked, breaking away from their group to investigate.

Lawrence jumped after him, pointing to one of the tables in the room as a repository for the statue. Dunstan followed, andeven Lord Gerald stood, cane supporting him, and shuffled over to see what all the fuss was about.

“Lawrence!” Waldorf huffed once the statue was put down and they all gathered around it. “What have you done?”

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