Page 70 of Betting on a Duke
Samuel stood up. “Please excuse me. I have some things to retrieve from the carriage.”
Mrs. St. George said, “Reginald, why don’t you go with Mr. Radcliff and help him?”
“Yes, Mama.”
Clarice covered her mouth to hide her gasp. He even sounded like a young Samuel from when they were children playing together.
“Let us relax and talk in the drawing room,” Mrs. St. George said as she led the way into the next room, which was bright with three large windows, two settees, and several chairs. “Sometimes the vicar entertains his parishioners here, so it’s a little crowded with furniture.”
“Not at all. It looks very cozy and welcoming.”
“Please have a seat. You and Mr. Radcliff can take that settee, while the vicar and I will take this one.”
“Thank you,” she said as she sat down, hoping her nerves would settle and the awkwardness between them would fade. Meeting new people was always discomforting, but these were her son’s family—people she could only acknowledge as Mr. and Mrs. St. George.
*
Samuel walked besideReginald toward the mews behind the house, which was right next to the small white stone church, with the burial ground on the other side. All the while, he tried to think of things to ask or say. His tongue and mouth wouldn’t cooperate. Everything he wanted to say sounded wrong for a six-year-old.
He opened the door to the carriage, which was parked outside thestables, and motioned for Reginald to come closer. “These two are for your parents. Take care with them.”
“Yes, sir,” he said with a nod as he held out his arms, and Samuel placed the packages in the boy’s arms, one of which was quite heavy.
Samuel grabbed the three others, and they headed back to the house, his tongue still tied in knots. How could a six-year-old have him so nervous that he couldn’t talk or think straight?Because he’s no ordinary six-year-old. He’s your son.All the more reason he should be able to speak to him.
“Mama!” Reginald exclaimed as he rushed into the room holding two presents. “They brought you and Papa presents.” He handed one to his mother and one to his father.
Mrs. St. George’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Let the children open theirs first.”
“We have presents, too?” Richard asked with wide, excited eyes.
“Of course,” said Samuel as he handed them out. “We could hardly come visit our good friends without bearing gifts, could we?”
All three faces looked to their mother. “You may open,” she said with laughter.
They tore through the wrapping, and the room’s noise grew louder. “Look, Mama,” Penelope said. “It’s a dolly.” She hugged the doll. “She is so pretty. Thank you, Mr. and Mrs.—what’s their name, Mama?” she whispered, not very quietly. Samuel tried not to chuckle at the sweet little girl.
“Radcliff, my dear.”
“Radcliff, thank you. She’s pretty.”
“I’m glad you like her,” Clarice said, a tear falling down her cheek. His poor wife, overwhelmed by the emotions of carrying a child. Add the emotional overload from meeting their son, and he wondered why she was not sobbing into her handkerchief.
Richard opened his eyes and exclaimed, looking puzzled. “What is it, Papa?”
“It is backgammon. It’s a game that I will teach you. You are still young, but you will learn quickly. Perhaps tonight I can teach you?”
“I would like that, Papa.”
Reginald opened his present and shouted, “Look, Mama, Papa, it’s my very own chess game. Now Papa won’t be upset when I move his pieces around the board.”
Samuel hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath while Reginald opened his present, and he inhaled deeply. His heart eased up on the pounding, and he noticed Clarice sighed and looked more relaxed.
“Now your turn, Mama and Papa,” Reginald exclaimed with excitement.
Mrs. St. George opened her box and gasped as she dug through the paper wrapping. “It is lovely.” She lifted out a wash basin and bowl decorated with blue and yellow flowers. “Thank you so much.” She whipped a tear away, but others followed. “Your turn, vicar,” his wife said with a beaming smile and tears streaming down her cheeks.
His eyes widened in surprise and elation when he saw what it was. Samuel and Clarice had hunted far and wide to find the beautifully illustrated Bible.
“Thank you,” he said, hugging it to his chest. “It’s the most beautiful Bible I’ve ever seen. I can’t thank you enough.”
Samuel nodded to him. “It is we who cannot thank you and Mrs. St. George enough. You have eased our troubled minds and hearts. There is no finer house than yours anywhere.” When the vicar nodded, Samuel knew he understood. No finer house for their son to grow up in than theirs.
They spent nearly every moment of the next few days together until, teary-eyed, they had to say goodbye. Samuel and Clarice promised to visit at the same time next year.
