Fellows left soon after, happy to get back home to his wife and put together his case.
The next visitor to gain entrance was Sinclair’s brother-in-law, Edward. Again, Bertie was present, though she wasn’t certain she wanted to be for this meeting. Edward put her back up too quickly. Then again, she’d rather be there to make sure he didn’t make Sinclair worse.
Sinclair received Edward in his study. Sinclair wore an informal suit, his abdomen bulked by bandages, and he didn’t rise from the sofa when Edward came in. Bertie had been reading Sinclair’s correspondence out to him, making notes on what he wanted to say in reply. She remained at his desk, pen poised, as the irritating Edward entered.
Edward swept his gaze over her then fixed it on Sinclair, looking him up and down. “I heard you were in a brawl,” Edward said coldly. “Somewhere in the gutter. Defending her honor, were you?”
Sinclair gave Edward his stern barrister’s stare. “If you don’t keep a civil tongue about Miss Frasier, I’ll be defending her honor against you, and winning.”
“I don’t brawl,” Edward said. He sniffed.
“I don’t care,” Sinclair said with his impatient growl. “If you continue to insult her, I’ll come off this couch and punch you in the nose. What do you want?”
“To see how you are, of course.”
Oh, of course, Bertie thought. Come to kick a man when he’s down, more like.
“I appreciate your concern,” Sinclair said. “You may go now.”
“I was mostly worried about the children,” Edward said, ignoring him. “With you an invalid, my wife and I think it best that we take over the caring of them. Arrange Andrew’s school, find Caitriona a proper governess. You may visit them at holidays, of course. I’ve consulted a solicitor, who assures me such a thing is logical and feasible. They have no mother, and their father is unfit to take care of them. They will be well provided for by me.”Sinclair sat still and listened until Edward finished. How Sinclair didn’t come off the couch with a roar, Bertie didn’t know.
“I’ve consulted a solicitor as well,” Sinclair said in his reasonable voice, though Bertie heard the bite of fury behind it. “As you know, I am acquainted with many. While it’s common for families to take in the children of sisters and brothers, it is entirely the father’s and mother’s choice if the parents are alive and competent. Since Margaret is no longer with us, I’ll have to speak for her. No, my children will not live with you, Edward. I’ll not have Cat and Andrew turned into stiff-necked prigs who need a pulley system in order to bow their heads. I have already ensured that if I shuffle off this mortal coil before my children are of age, either my brothers—Elliot, Patrick, or Steven—or my sister, Ainsley, will have care of them. My brothers and sister all have plenty of money and good social standing, and you’ll never need to worry about Cat and Andrew with them.”
Edward’s face suffused with red. “I’ll not have my sister’s children associated with Mackenzies.”
“Why not? My sister is deliriously happy, and her children are well cared for.” Sinclair sat up straighter. He didn’t wince, but Bertie saw the lines around his mouth tighten. “You aren’t concerned for your niece and nephew, Edward. You’re worried about your own standing. Margaret embarrassed you by running off to find some happiness, and you want to shove Cat and Andrew back into the Davies mold to show the world that your way is right. Sod you, and your wife too. My children are mine, and they’re staying with me.”
“To become indolent little layabouts?” Edward asked. “There’s also some question, I’ve always known, about whether you married my sister correctly or not.”
“I’ll show you the license if you doubt.” Sinclair’s voice hardened. “The marriage was true. I’d think you’d not be so hasty to bastardize your own niece and nephew. But I’ve decided to make you happy.” Sinclair sank back, keeping his gaze firmly on Edward. “Your main objection seems to be that my children are being educated at home. I’ll have you know that at Easter, Andrew will be starting at Harrow, and Cat has been enrolled in Miss Pringle’s Select Academy, one of the best schools for girls in the country. She’ll begin at Easter as well.”
Edward blinked in surprise then shot a sharp look at Bertie. Bertie regarded him calmly, the revelation no surprise to her. Sinclair had discussed it with her—and Cat and Andrew—at length. Cat had asked most of all to take drawing lessons. She’d shown Bertie a few more of her astonishing pictures, and she’d shyly agreed to let her Uncle Mac see some of them. Mac had looked at them, been quietly stunned, and told Cat she had the beginnings of great talent. Which had sealed Cat’s decision to go to Miss Pringle’s and study with the best teachers she could.
“And Miss Frasier?” Edward asked.
“My children will no longer need a governess. Will all that keep you from running to my house every fortnight or your wife accosting me in tearooms?”
Edward still looked surprised, but he wasn’t the sort of man to not find something to be annoyed about. “I suppose it will have to do,” he said sourly.
“You may of course visit the children on holidays and for school treats,” Sinclair said.
Edward made a sound like a grunt, and gave Sinclair a stiff nod. “Very well then. Good day.”