Charming Artemis by Sarah M. Eden
Chapter Sixteen
The friendliness of their journey south had evaporated, and Charlie didn’t know why. Artemis had returned to the flighty, dramatic, feigned version of herself he’d first met in this very house. He tossed the confusing change around in his mind but couldn’t identify the variable that had so abruptly altered the equation. People, he’d discovered, were seldom as easy to analyze as numbers.
“Any self-respecting landowner simply must install a gibbet,” Artemis said to Mariposa on the second afternoon of their sojourn at Lampton Park. “No estate is complete without one.”
“And how do you feel about motes?” Mariposa could be counted on to encourage ridiculousness.
“A bit outdated but an acceptable addition if one has the space and the inclination.” Artemis turned a theatrically serious expression on Philip, who was even more in favor of oddity than Mariposa. “And one mustn’t discount the utility of possessing a dungeon.”
“Is there a dungeon at Falstone Castle?” Philip lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’ve heard rumors.”
“Of course there is, my lord. How do you suppose His Grace disposes of unwanted family members?”
“Genius.” Philip shook his head with an air of realization. “I’ve seven brothers and no dungeon. An unacceptable ratio by anyone’s estimation.”
“I could deposit your youngest brother in the dungeon at Falstone.” Artemis’s offer was met with laughter and expressions of gratitude, and not just from Philip.
Into the chaos came Crispin, Catherine, and their two-year-old son. Charlie ought to have known Crispin would be arriving as well.
Layton stepped up beside the newest arrivals. “Welcome to Lampton Park, strangers.” He motioned to Charlie. “You remember Mr. Artemis Lancaster.”
Crispin grinned. “I remember the ceremony well. Charlie told Holy Harry to take himself off. Brilliant.”
Mr. Artemis Lancaster.It was clearly meant more as a jab than an actual insult, a bit of brotherly teasing, but it wasn’t particularly appreciated, especially as the room had been so delighted at the prospect of Mrs. Artemis Lancaster ridding the family of him.
Charlie reached for the only distraction he knew he could count on. “Robert has grown so much since I last saw him.” He spoke to Catherine, motioning toward their little boy. “He looks a lot like you.”
Catherine had a quiet and reserved nature but wasn’t too bashful for conversation. “He looks remarkably like a miniature I have of my father when he was a little boy.”
“Is that a comfort to you or a grief?” He glanced across the room to where Mater sat. “Stanley and Marjie’s little boy, from what I’m told, is the very image of my father as a baby. He’s even named for him. I worry that will be difficult for Mater as he grows older. She still mourns my father deeply.”
“You brothers are a comfort to her,” Catherine said.
“And a worry, no doubt.”
“I am discovering a mother never stops worrying about her children.”
Charlie didn’t want Mater worrying about him. He wanted to bring her happiness and reassurance. He wanted to ease her burdens, not multiply them as he’d done his whole life.
Philip sauntered over. “I have just been having the most illuminating conversation with our newest sister-in-law.”
Charlie froze.
“And what did Mrs. Artemis have to say?” Layton and Philip thoroughly enjoyed egging each other on.
“That our littlest brother does not have a valet.” Philip shook his head as if it were the greatest of shocks. “I am not certain how to break the news to Wilson. He might have apoplexy and die on the spot.”
Layton nodded solemnly. “I am amazed our very fashionable sister-in-law hasn’t succumbed to the horror already.”
“I daresay she’s survived greater shocks lately.” Crispin’s tone was dry as an autumn leaf.
Enjoying themselves, weren’t they? If ever there was a moment in which he needed Artemis to dedicate herself to the ruse they’d meant to enact, this was it.
“Artie,” Charlie called over to her, “I’m being told that you have barely managed to survive the shock of my appearance. I suspect you had best come defend yourself.”
She flitted over. Lud, he’d seen her walk that way before. It was such a frustrating affectation, clearly meant to convey carelessness and ennui.
As she arrived, she looked over the three of them with disapproval. “‘Barely survived’?’’ She clicked her tongue and shook her head. “You severely underestimate the enormity of my endurance.”
Not the defense he had been hoping for. But it did make his brothers laugh. And she set a hand on his arm as she laughed along with them. He wasn’t certain why she’d returned to this shallow incarnation of herself, and it wasn’t the approach to reducing scrutiny they’d agreed on, but it did the trick in the moment.
“Uncle Charlie!” He turned at the sound of his niece Alice’s voice. A blessed angel of mercy. “Come play with us.”
He looked to his brothers and wife. “I may not have a valet, but I have the very best of playmates.” He dipped a little bow. “If you will excuse me, my Alice wishes for me to join her, and I would never deny her anything she wanted.”
Alice took his hand and pulled him across the room to where nearly all the assembled grandchildren were seated on the floor. They sat beneath the enormous family portrait that hung over the fireplace, the last one painted of the family before Father’s death.
How often Charlie had sat in this very spot, looking up into his father’s still and lifeless face, trying to remember him, wishing he could talk to him one last time and ask him all the questions he had.
You promised you would always help me when I needed you.
I need you now.
