“She’s already seeing to it, milady. I’ll have Captain Thomas’s and Mr Roddy’s valises sent up.”
“One moment, Mr Johnson.” Roddy remained in the hall with the butler, while Dinah looped her arm through mine and drew me into the parlour, with Bertie following us.
“How are the boys?” I asked, referring to my nephews.
The expression of pride on Bertie’s face had me mourning what I didn’t possess: children of my own.
“Hal is at Ravensgate. Would you believe the young scamp is doing exceptionally well? Can’t imagine where he gets the brains,” he teased, and Dinah slapped his arm. “From what he tells me, they remember you a trifle too well, Thomas. You and that friend of yours.”
I gave it some thought. It wouldn’t have been Warrick, who’d always been retiring as a boy. The only one it could be was, “Ash Laytham?”
“Precisely.”
“Good lord, I haven’t thought of him in ages. I wonder what he’s up to these days.”