At Thomas' suggestion, they moved their discussion from the dining room to John's room. The man lowered the book he was reading in surprise as they knocked and filed in.
"Welcome back," he said, eyes crinkling with humour but shining with curiosity.
The room turned to Thomas. "My father is throwing a party in a couple of weeks and I think you should all attend."
Beth moved forward, smiling a greeting to John, and offering him the invitation. He accepted it, glanced quickly at the inscription, and then back at Thomas. "Why?"
"If the duke or Henry gave you the ring, then they'll recognise you," unconsciously, he fiddled with the ring on his own hand, "they might even know your true identity."
Bart folded his arms across his chest. "But would they tell us? By all accounts your family doesn't sound like they'd willingly volunteer any information."
The younger man grinned. "Oh, you're right – they wouldn't. However, I am... accustomed... to their confusion, secrecy and rage, so their reactions when they see you will tell me enough."
John's brows rose. "Me?" He pointed at his chest, as if to confirm they were all on the same page. "I've not left this bed in, what, two weeks?" Beth nodded. "How do you suppose I can attend a ball?"
Thomas made a noise, flapping his hand casually. "Where there's a will, there's a way."
"I have a way." The entire room, with the exception of John, jumped and spun towards the door, startled to find Phil standing behind them with her arms folded. She had one brow raised as she assessed her siblings, her gaze finally settling on Simon with a shake of her head. "You really thought you could keep me away?"
He let out a reluctant laugh, taking her by the shoulder and drawing her into a hug. "I thought I could try. Does our Aunt Jemima at least know you've returned?"
"I never left." A slight hint of pride crept into her tone. "I wrote to Aunt Jemima this morning that I wasn't feeling well. I suggested that I might be getting my monthlies for the first time and it was best that I stay home."
The room was divided on how to respond to that. John, Vincent and Beth were embarrassed, keeping their wide eyes trained on the ceiling, walls or floor. Matt and Thomas were amused, laughing aloud. Simon let out a low chuckle as well. And Bart, as per usual, just shook his head and accepted that it had been said.
"You're a little young," Simon said softly. With the death of their parents, he had accepted his role as father to Phil. Her intelligence had made most awkward conversations unnecessary, but that did not mean that he hadn't prepared for them – both with knowledge and emotional fortitude.
The little girl shrugged. "It was a false-alarm."
Her brother nodded sagely. "So then how much of the luncheon did you overhear?"
For the first time, she looked her age, a cheeky smile creepy across her face. Instead of replying, she just grinned broadly.
With a sigh and a small smile of his own, Simon tapped her on the cheek before looking to the rest of the room. "Well then, where were we?"
John heaved a sigh, one hand absently rubbing at his injured leg. "If Phil knows a way for me to attend the party, then I agree that I should. I need to know who I am, and if your family," he nodded at Thomas, "might hold that answer then I need to be there."
Thomas looked like he might clap with joy. "Excellent!"
.
Phil's plan took almost a week to come to fruition. In that time, the doctor was called to confirm whether it would do any harm for John to be upright. Doctor Williams was very much in favour of the idea, suggesting that as long as John took regular pauses and kept the leg braced, then some exercise might do him the world of good. It might even help return his memory.
As soon as the doctor departed, John let out a huff of laughter, shaking his head. "It seems everything might return my memory, but nothing ever does."
Beth couldn't help but reach out, patting his hand gently. "Better to try and fail than to stop trying."
He glanced at her in surprise, nodding despite himself. "Yes, I suppose you're right. 'And the boat was beached and the crew despaired, for the captain said it would never float again. And they hatched their plans but they did not dare, for the captain said it would never float again.'"
"I like that one," She said softly, glancing down at where their skin still touched.
"As do I."
Beth remembered suddenly that they were not alone, and glanced up to find Matt looking between them with almost a look of disgust on his face. She pulled away quickly, her stomach roiling with fear. Had he misinterpreted...
"Nautical poetry?" He made a noise of revulsion and stalked towards the door. "I hate nautical poetry..."
William Pendrake also continued to be attentive, refusing to let Thomas' antagonistic behaviour intimidate him; Beth thought it was a favourable note on his character. His intentions were also becoming clear to those outside Beth's immediate family.
Beth entered the sitting room one morning to find both of her aunts sitting on the lounge with determined expressions on their faces. It was so unusual to find the two of them together without their families that a wave of nausea swept through her stomach and she couldn't help but hesitate, gripping the door frame just in case she needed the support.
"Aunts, is something the matter? Is everyone alright?"
Both women rolled their eyes at her, which she found oddly comforting.
"Don't make a fuss, Beth dear," Aunt Delia said, waving her over to the gap left deliberately between the two older women. Her niece did as instructed, still watching both of them with concern.
Lady Jemima Humphrey, dowager Countess of Hurst, and the now Mrs Cordelia Kilroy, once Lady Quentin, were a very odd pair. Where Jemima was soft, blonde and bright, Cordelia was angular, dark and sceptical. But they were both fond of love and laughter, and had a dedication to family for which the Humphrey siblings would always be grateful. And now Beth sat between them while they pinned her with somehow opposite yet identical expressions.
She leant back slightly, smoothing her skirts across her thighs. "Is there something I can do for you, Aunts?"
Aunt Jemima, her expression breaking into an excited grin, gripped her gently by the arm. "Don't you try to play coy with us, darling girl!"
Beth looked to her other aunt for clarification.
"We have heard there is a man in your life." Aunt Delia's expression was still measured, and her brow arched delicately the longer Beth was silent.
She would deny it, but Beth's first thought was of John. She couldn't think of why Aunt Jemima would be so excited by their ... friendship... it wasn't as if she were going to mar...
"Oh, Lord Pendrake!"
Jemima's face crinkled with glee. "Look how she blushes when she says his name, Delia!"
Beth had no better excuse for the heat in her cheeks, so she let them believe that.
"Calm yourself, Jemima!" The words were harsh, but the tone was almost laughing as one aunt leaned behind her to slap the other across the shoulder. "How will we get any details out of her if you're giggling like a schoolgirl?" Aunt Delia lost a lot of credibility by giggling herself.
Overwhelmed by their excitement, Beth quickly rose to her feet, moving a little bit across the room. She took the moment to take a big breath, and then turned back abruptly. They had moved side by side and were clutching at each other in lieu of her.
"Aunts, you mustn't get carried away," she cautioned, raising her hands as if to soothe a riled animal. The excitement of the women did indeed feel like a beast. "He has only come to call a few times!"
Delia's eyebrows hit her hairline. "'A few times'? I have it on good authority that he has been here every morning for more than a week!"
Beth's hands flew to her hips and she huffed, "Whose authority?!"
Her aunt's lips twitched into a smile. "Your sister's."
"And you trust the word of an 8-year-old girl?"
"When that 8-year-old girl is Phillipa, yes I do."
All three women had to laugh at that, and Beth let her hands fall in front of her. She'd have to remember to repay Phil for this 'kindness' one day. For now, she just let the excitement she saw in her aunts swell in her own chest
"He has been to visit every day," she said a little too quickly, pressing her lips together after she spoke. The reaction to her words was instantaneous though; all three erupted in shrieks of joy!
Beth calmed herself, holding out her arms to temper the excitement of the other women as she glanced towards the door; the last thing she needed was one of her brothers bursting in on them. She sat down gently in the armchair opposite her aunts, her hands gripping the edge. When she bit her lip, they exchanged a look.
"What's on your mind, Beth?" Aunt Jemima asked, concern clear in the crease of her brow.
Her niece shifted in place but was too slow to respond; they glanced at each other again, this time with a knowing expression.
"Are you concerned about your marriage bed?"
"No!" Beth had absolutely no desire to have her aunts explain physical intimacy to her, and her true concerns tumbled off her tongue almost desperately. "I'm worried about love. Whether I feel it or if I ever will. Whether I should wait for it before I marry or whether I'm too old for such considerations. Whether it's even necessary for a happy marriage or if it just... complicates things..."
Neither woman laughed at her as she had feared.
Aunt Delia was nodding seriously. "Grave concerns indeed."
The conversation was interrupted briefly as a serving maid arrived with tea. The pot was set on the low table between them, but Beth waved the maid away gently, keen for something to distract herself. As she left the room, Beth began to pour, and her aunts continued.
"Well, your parents were in love from the moment they laid eyes on one another," Aunt Jemima said softly, accepting the cup she was offered with delicate fingers, "And they had a very happy life. But your Uncle Matthew and I barely knew each other when we wed, and we grew to care about each other very deeply."
Cordelia was nodding as she swallowed a small sip of tea. "Yes, there really is no pattern to it. My first husband and I were also arranged to marry. It was a happy union because I bore him sons, but we were never particularly close. When I did find love, it was below my station but it brought true happiness."
Beth nodded slowly, moving her own tea cup to her lap. She breathed in the steam that wafted upwards, hoping it could clean the confusion in her mind. "So you're saying that if you begin with love it can only grow stronger, but to marry without it means to chance an unhappy marriage?"
Aunt Jemima hesitated. "Perhaps, but even love is no guarantee. Think of Rosemary; her love could not keep poor Finley alive. And now, because of that love, she suffers even more."
The younger woman's eyes closed tightly, her expression strained. "So there is no right way to do it?"
"No," came the chorused response.
Thankfully, Beth did not have too long to dwell on that unhelpful reply, as Phil's plan was manifested that very afternoon. Her clever little sister threw open the parlour doors, her arms spread wide, and announced as much with a very self-satisfied expression. Then she instructed Beth to follow her to John's room. Once again, all of her brothers were crowded inside, along with Thomas, who had made a reappearance.
Phil entered last, carrying a large stick.
Beth wasn't the only one who was confused.
"Why do you have a large stick, Phil?" Matt asked loudly. He was slouched in the armchair, one brow raised and swirling port in his other hand. Beth scowled at the liquor, but when he noticed he only took a sip.
Phil let out a sigh far too burdened for her eight years. "It's not a stick, Matt; it's a crutch."
Her brother's face lit with mirth. "Did you say crot-"
"Crutch!" She shook her head at him and turned to John. "I read about it in a medical journal. Think of it like a long cane, which you can position under your arm. It will bear your weight and take the place of your leg until you can use it again." No one was particularly excited and she frowned at them all. "I confirmed it was appropriate with Doctor Williams!"
Simon ruffled her hair. "Of course you did."
She pulled away quickly, her expression darkening. Grumbling under her breath, she swerved her way through the crowded room, arriving at John's bedside and extending the instrument to him. It was quite tall, obviously designed to reach his shoulder, with a horizontal bar across the top. This was covered in fabric, a modification Phil had demanded to try to decrease discomfort.
John took it hesitantly, but was quick to swing his good leg out of bed. Over the past fortnight, he had been borrowing her brothers' night gowns as they were easy for him to change in and out of and they kept his wounds easily accessible for the doctor. Now, as he pulled back the sheet, the clothing revealed a lot of leg. Beth quickly glanced to the ceiling, ignoring the blush in her cheeks. She only looked down when the men around her let out impressed grunts.
John was upright, swayingslightly, but upright. He was grinning ear to ear. "Can I go outside?"