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It happened shortly after Hugh and Sarah’s first child (a daughter) had been christened: Hugh and Freddie’s father died in a hunting accident.
Good riddance. It was a rather safe assumption that no one was sad at his funeral.
Freddie certainly wasn’t. He’d only attended the funeral at the behest of Thomas, who had insisted that he’d regret the closure. Freddie was sure that Thomas was wrong, but sometimes one did things simply to keep the peace, and it had been apparent that Thomas hadn’t been about to let it go.
He said as much to Hugh and Sarah when he came by for a visit. To his surprise, they both agreed with him. He hadn’t thought either of them would admit to such a thing, but to hear it was a relief.
“Though we can’t discount that you and Thomas would be married by now if society understood your bond,” Sarah said kindly.
“She’s right, you know,” Hugh said. “You do even live together.”
Freddie didn’t protest that things were different in the country, that two bachelors could share a home as friends, and as long as they frequented the local pub and flirted with the appropriate women, no one would be any the wiser.
They already knew that, and he didn’t want Hugh to completely destroy his fragile illusion of independence.
So he changed the subject. “I’ve heard that Lady Harriet is staging a new play in a week’s time.”
Sarah clapped her hands together. “Oh! You simply must attend! Harriet, Elizabeth, and Frances would be heartbroken if you were absent!”
“I’ll send word to Thomas that I’ll be staying in the city a bit longer than planned,” Freddie agreed.
“You can always invite him.”
“He’s not even an honourable,” Freddie said. “The ton would eat him alive.”
“He is gentry, though; it’s hardly as if he’s a servant,” Hugh said. “Most of the ton likely wouldn’t even notice him.”
“Even so.”
“We’ll have to visit the two of you to meet him, then,” Sarah said, and oh, was that what they’d been getting at? It made sense, but at the same time, it made him nervous. Thomas didn’t like London any more than Freddie did (though Freddie’s primary reason for avoiding London was now underground in a London cemetery), and the ton could be particularly vicious to outsiders.
“You’re certainly welcome to,” Freddie said. “I’m sure Thomas would welcome the visit.”
Sarah smiled. “Then it’s settled. But you will stay for Harriet’s play. We think we’ve resolved the unicorn horn issue.”
Freddie had only heard about this issue secondhand. “Oh?”
“It’ll be attached to a sort of bonnet,” Sarah said. “Frances wasn’t thrilled with the result, but we hope it’ll be better than her walking about with half a unicorn horn stuck to her forehead for a week.”
“It’ll also be more difficult for her to gore her sister,” Hugh remarked mildly.
“That, too,” Sarah agreed.
The play was, to put it bluntly, the most ridiculous thing Freddie had ever seen in his life, although Hugh assured him it wasn’t as ridiculous as the first play they’d done with Henry VIII. As if that meant anything more than Freddie having been incredibly lucky to have missed that particular performance.
“Henry the Eighth and unicorns?” Freddie whispered back.
“Exactly.”
Freddie, however, hadn’t seen that play, so the point still stood.
However, Lady Harriet Pleinsworth was now his sister-in-law, a role she took quite seriously. He’d only met her twice: at the wedding and at the christening. Both times, she and her sisters had been quite enthusiastic to have, as they put it, “two brand-new brothers.”
His own family had never been so warm – he and Hugh were closer than most siblings, out of necessity, but his parents and extended family had ranged from absolutely vile to indifferent.
The Pleinsworths (and the Smythe-Smiths, by extension) were incredibly warm and welcoming. Freddie hadn’t known how to react at the wedding, even though Hugh had warned him, though the christening had gone a bit more smoothly.
This time, he didn’t even blink when Sarah’s sisters swarmed him after the play.
“Freddie!” (They never had called him by his title, so why should they change now that he was officially the Marquess of Ramsgate, a title which made his skin crawl?)
“Lovely play, ladies,” Freddie said. It had certainly been an interesting play.
Harriet preened. “Thank you! It was my writing, of course. I think I should like to become a proper playwright, once I’m old enough to sell my plays.”
“You’re well on your way, then. And Frances, you were lovely as the unicorn.”
“And you don’t think it’s strange to have a unicorn in Renaissance Italy, do you?” the girl asked, still wearing her (rather ingenious) horn.
“Of course not,” Freddie said, even though he did. Sometimes, particularly with children, it was better to lie.
“That’s exactly what I told Elizabeth. See?” she said to her sister. “Freddie agrees with me.”
He caught Sarah’s apologetic look, but really, he didn’t mind.
It was all just very nice to be included in her family, even though he was only her brother-in-law.
When he arrived home to Thomas, he expected to feel immense relief. And he did feel some relief; finally, he could be himself, without worrying. Even in Hugh and Sarah’s house, he’d felt a bit on edge around the servants (he’d have never told them as much, of course).
But he also missed them, and Sarah’s entire family. It had been nice to be surrounded by people who genuinely liked him. London itself was almost pleasant without the spectre of his father hanging over him.
Thomas greeted him with a kiss. “How was London?”
“Surprisingly pleasant,” he said.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to move there now that your father’s died.”
“No,” Freddie agreed, though he would probably have to move into his family’s estate at some point. That was something he could worry about later. “Lady Sarah’s family was most welcoming. I’d never known what it was like to feel as if I had a supportive family.”
“You do have a supportive family,” Thomas said. “Lady Sarah is your sister-in-law, so her sisters are yours by law.”
“Yes, but my father…”
“Is dead, and good riddance. You never have to worry about him again. If you’d like to take more visits into London to see your family, far be it from me to refuse you.”
“I’d like you to meet them,” Freddie said in a rush. “They’ll all be going to the countryside in the summer, anyway. Perhaps we could visit with them.”
“Perhaps,” Thomas agreed, which was almost certainly a yes from him. Freddie kissed him.
“I think you’ll especially like Lady Frances.”
“The unicorn?” Thomas asked.
“None other. I think Lady Sarah expected her to grow out of it, but if she will, she certainly hasn’t yet.”
“Let’s retire to the library, and you can tell me all about your visit.”