The Firstborn

Chapter Sixteen

Haughton resisted the temptation to hoist his brother up by his ridiculously sharp collar points and toss him into the lake. His hand curled into a fist at his side, but he beat his knuckles against his thigh rather than David's face as he waylaid his brother's progress across the lawn.

"Goodness gracious, a picnic?" David smirked, though beneath the brim of his beaver, his eyes looked tired and rimmed with red. "Tell me you've not gone rustic on us? I thought not even a call from the Heavenly Host would be enough to tempt you from your study."

"What are you doing here?" Haughton looked directly at his brother. If he glanced back at Sophia and Bess to see if either of them had returned to the house, he knew it would only succeed in drawing more attention the ladies—and the child, David's child—behind him.

David's easy grin faded a little. "And such a welcome as that? I doubt our father would care to hear you use such a tone on our ancestral lands. But nevermind all that!" He stepped around his brother and made for the blanket and the abandoned picnic. "I see our sister, but who is this other young lady? Don't tell me you've been entertaining prospective wives while I've been away!"

"David." Haughton snagged the edge of his brother's sleeve between his fingers. "Are you drunk?"

"This early in the day? What do you take me for?" He yanked his arm from Haughton's grasp. "Hungover, I may be. But drunk? I do have some scruples, my good man."

Haughton swore under his breath as he followed David towards the blanket. Sophia had packed up the food, and Bess, seemingly unaware of the danger of the situation, returned from the lakeside with George still balanced on her hip.

"Good afternoon, ladies!" David tipped his hat to each woman in turn. Haughton noticed that his gaze lingered on Sophia, and he had to tamp down the rage that threatened to curl his fingers into his palms again. "Bess, m'dear!" He stepped forward and kissed his sister once on each cheek. A glance at George was all the attention he gave to the infant before his eyes turned once more towards Sophia. "But I'm afraid I've not yet been introduced to this young lady."

Sophia glanced at Haughton, her brow furrowed. How much should they reveal? As little as possible, Haughton thought, and cleared his throat before beginning the introductions. "This is... Mrs. Brixton. A friend of Bess's, come to stay with us for a little while."

"Mrs. Brixton." David dipped his chin and held out his hand. Sophia, having no other recourse, placed her hand in his.

Haughton watched as his brother placed a kiss on the tops of her fingers, before he slid his thumb across her knuckles in a way that made Sophia's mouth tighten. "Mr. Haughton," she said between gritted teeth.

"I don't recall seeing you in town, Mrs.... Brixton, was it?" For a terrible moment, David's eyes narrowed, as if he were trying to connect something about her face to a faint memory in the farthest recesses of his mind. But whether because he was still fighting the effects of a recently inebriated state, or if he simply couldn't remember having seen anyone who resembled her before, the thoughtful expression faded. A crooked smile took its place, and he leaned in towards Sophia once more. "Of course, if I had ever been given the pleasure of making your acquaintance, I doubt I would forget."

Sophia did not smile. But while his brother's attention was fixed on her, Haughton nodded to Bess and indicated with a gesture that she should return to the house with George. Once their sister was halfway across the lawn, Haughton stepped forward to interrupt David's attempted flirtation.

"Come along, David. There's a matter I wish to discuss with you." He could not think of anything he needed to speak about with his brother, but all he could think about was getting him away from Sophia.