She stuck out her tongue, then bounded around the table to plop in the chair beside him.
He leaned back as if affronted by her nearness. “There are five other chairs. Must you sit on my lap?”
“I am not on your lap, but you are in my usual spot. Your name isn’t on this chair too, is it?”
Mother clucked her tongue. “Now, children, no quarreling.” A bright smile accompanied her scolding. She moved slowly to the closest chair and lowered into it with a grimace.
“Her rheumatoid is bothering her more in the mornings,” Eve confided in him. “She didn’t want me to tell you so you wouldn’t send for the doctor.”
Mother narrowed her gaze at his sister. “Eve Lorraine Elizabeth Thorne, I told you not to trouble your brother.”
Sebastian turned to the page with Hillary’s apology and slid the newssheet to his sister. “It is not troubling me to know about your ailments. I’ll send for Dr. Campbell this afternoon.”
Mother harrumphed and settled her napkin in her lap. “He will only tell me to take a nip of brandy at bedtime. I don’t need his expertise, thank you.”
“And have you followed his recommendation?” Sebastian asked.
“Ladies do not partake of brandy.”
Eve looked up from the newssheet with a sigh, but he couldn’t tell if it was a happy or sad sigh. “It is really over now, isn’t it?”
“What is over?” Mother asked.
He addressed her question rather than leaving it to Eve to explain and let it slip he’d been involved in a duel, however non-life-threatening it was. “Benjamin Hillary has issued an apology in today’s paper and proclaimed Eve blameless in their broken betrothal.” He held up a staying hand when he saw the panic on his mother’s face. “He didn’t useher name.”
Mother wilted on the seat, her age suddenly showing in the lines of her face.
He patted his sister’s shoulder. “It is over, and I expect you will have a wider selection of gentlemen from which to choose your husband. You could do much better than Sir Jonathan, so there is no need to make a hasty decision.”
“I like Sir Jonathan. He’s interesting.” Eve flipped through the pages until she found the gossip section.
He ruffled her hair. “Well, you may marry whomever you choose.”
“Oh, look!” She sat up straighter. “There is something about the run-in with Lady Lovelace in here. She was abominably rude, but Helena defended you quite well. Then Lady Norwick took up our cause. But Helena was magnificent.” Her gaze darted to him before returning to the column. “You would do well not to cross the lady, Bastian.”
“I haven’t crossed anyone.” He bent over his sister’s shoulder to read the piece again. “Helena was involved?”
His mother cleared her throat, sending him a quelling look across the table.
“Pardon me. Lady Prestwick, I mean.”
Eve paid no attention to their mother’s censorious ear and continued to prattle. “You couldn’t very well expect her to hold her tongue when Lady Lovelace insulted you. The harridan said you were mad, just like Papa.”
Mother gasped at the same time Sebastian winced. He hadn’t wanted either of them to know what others had been saying about him or to remind them of Father’s last years.
Eve blinked her big brown eyes innocently. “Papa was not mad, and neither are you, Bastian. Helena quashed that rumor at once, so you needn’t worry about hearing it again.”
He smiled affectionately at his younger sister. He didn’t believe the rumors would never surface again or that their father had been sane, but he was happy to support her fantasy. “I must thank Lady Prestwick when I see her next.” His heart sped at the reminder he would see her again soon.
Eve tipped her head to the side. “What is that?”
“What is what?”
“That look. Your face got all soft and dreamy when you spoke of Helena.”
“It did no such thing.” He scowled and picked up his toast.
“She is correct,” Mother said quietly. “And you did use her Christian name a moment ago. Have you developed an attachment to her?”