Page 112 of Miss Flibbertigibbet and the Barbarian
Phillip and Viola reached her. Phillip met Merriweather’s eyes and nodded. “Merriweather.”
Merriweather bowed again. “Lord Phillip.” Still bent, he slanted a questioning sidelong glance at Addie, who nodded encouragingly. Reassured, Merriweather straightened and, with a small yet transparently sincere smile, added, “It’s a pleasure to welcome you home to Aisby Grange, my lord.”
Phillip’s expression gave little away, but Addie sensed he was touched. Merriweather hadn’t needed to say that. Phillip duly introduced Viola to Merriweather.
Then Dickie swanned in with a “What-ho, Merriweather?” to which the long-suffering butler merely arched a brow.
Nicholas walked in, ushering Benjamin, Angie, and Mortie ahead of him.
Merriweather’s expression turned openly approving. He bowed. “Mr. Cynster. It’s a delight to welcome you back, sir.”
“Thank you, Merriweather.” Nicholas locked his gaze on Adriana, wondering what her plans were.
As if in answer, she collected everyone with a glance—one severe enough to ensure no one tried to get away—and stated, “Dickie and I will lead the way into the conservatory, with Phillip and Viola following a few yards behind, and the rest of you should bring up the rear.”
Nicholas inclined his head in agreement, as did everyone else. He thought Adriana was wise not to allow anyone to put off the fraught moment.
She duly led the way down a long corridor giving off the rear of the hall, eventually reaching double glass doors, which she opened and set wide. With Dickie beside her, Adriana swept down the central aisle of the long conservatory, passing between ranks of large palms and banks of exotic plants to reach a seating area bounded by the curved glass wall at the end of the long room.
There, her parents were seated in wicker chairs, angled toward each other but also facing up the room.
“Mama, Papa,” Adriana declared. “We’re back, as you can see, and we have The Barbarian once more in our hands.”
“Excellent!” Her father had turned his head to regard her and Dickie, but now, faintly puzzled, his gaze slid past them. “Who…?”
His voice trailed away.
Addie caught her mother’s eyes and shifted to the side so that her mother, too, could view the visitors. “We also met some others and inveigled them to come on a visit.”
Her father had paled. Using his cane, he levered to his feet. He stared at his heir, then, his voice a bare whisper, said, “Phillip?”
Phillip looked equally shaken, but he managed a rather stiff nod. “Sir.” He shot a pleading look at Addie. “Addie and Dickie…” Phillip looked at his father, then simply said, “It seemed it was time.”
For a second, no one breathed.
Slowly, Addie’s mother got to her feet, but made no move to intercede.
Then her father sighed—a long, relieved, contented sigh—and stepped forward, one arm coming up to draw Phillip near. “My boy. I’m so glad to see you.”
As Phillip moved forward and returned their father’s embrace, Addie blew out a surreptitious breath.
What followed were lots of careful words and introductions, which elicited several shaky laughs, tentative smiles, not a few rapidly blinked-back tears, and ultimately, massive relief on all sides.
Nicholas stood back and observed the reunion. The Sommerville family gathered around, the younger children eager to be part of such a momentous occasion.
It soon became apparent that everyone was of a mind to let bygones be bygones. Nicholas watched approvingly as, leaving Viola speaking with his eager and interested father, Phillip made his peace with the countess.
Once the talk turned to Phillip and Viola’s plans, Adriana detached from the family group and walked to where Nicholas had halted at the end of the aisle. She met his eyes and smiled. “Thank you for giving us time to reconnect.”
He inclined his head. “This is what should be. How a family should be.” He took her hand, raised it to his lips, and holding her gaze, gently kissed her knuckles. “You’ve done well.”
She all but glowed, then looping her arm with his, turned to face the others. “Be that as it may, it’s our turn now.”
She walked forward, and he readily went with her.
Smiling—he suspected in besotted fashion—he stood beside her and left it to her to break their news. After she had, and congratulations had rained down upon them—the same congratulations that had earlier showered Phillip and Viola—Nicholas seized a quiet moment to speak directly to the earl. “My apologies, my lord. It was my intention to speak to you and ask your permission to pay my addresses to Lady Adriana, but she jumped the gun and insisted we exchange our troths and, in what I suspect will be the story of the rest of my life, I discovered I couldn’t deny her.”
The earl—who looked younger and fitter than he had before—laughed and clapped Nicholas on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, my boy. You’ll soon learn to appreciate the ever-changing delights of living with an impulsive woman.” The earl’s gaze had shifted to rest on his countess. “I thank my stars every day for the joys such a lady brings.”
