The two broke. “Come back to us soon, all right?” Cameron said.
“Of course. You’re going to teach me everything you know about working with the ponies, so once I’m done with university I can become a partner in your stables. We’re going to be world famous, Dad.”
“You have that all planned out? What about your engineering and your architecture?”
“I can do that too. Might even invent a better transport for horses or build a better stable. Plus I’ll work on the chaps at university and have them and their dads to send the horses to us.” He clapped his father on the shoulders. “I already said good-bye to Ainsley. She cried and kissed me on the cheek, and then gave me a packet of cakes. Marrying her was the smartest thing you ever did, Dad. There’s hope for you, yet.”
With that pronouncement, Daniel hugged his father again. Cameron returned the embrace, then reluctantly released him.
Daniel waved at Angelo, who was coming to join Cam, and then strode back toward the house and the carriage waiting to take him to the station. Daniel walked as tall and strong as Ian or Mac, even Hart.
“They grow up so fast,” Angelo said when he reached Cam. Cameron glanced at him, thinking the man joking, but Angelo’s dark eyes were serious. “Childhood is gone in the wink of an eye, and then they have to be men. You Anglos are strange, sending your sons out into the world as soon as they get tall enough. My family has been together forever.”
“I notice you don’t live with them, Angelo, so don’t become sentimental. Besides, my family is together. Just a bit spread out.”
“Rich Anglos need too much space.”
“That is true, but it keeps us from killing each other.”
Angelo grinned. Daniel climbed into the coach, and Cameron watched it roll down the drive with a pang in his heart.
He’d miss Daniel with everything he had, but he took Angelo’s words in the way the man meant them. Daniel would be welcome to stay with Cameron any time and for as long as he wanted. He’d done everything in his power to make damn certain that Daniel never had to fear coming home.
At that endeavor, Cameron knew he’d already far surpassed his own father.
Ainsley found the house emptier without Daniel, but Cameron now stayed all night every night with her, which meant that Ainsley got very little sleep. He’d wake her in the morning with loving, and they’d separate, sandy-eyed to their morning activities.
Cameron was unhappy about the loss of Jasmine, Ainsley could see, although he told her adamantly when she brought it up that it didn’t matter. He had plenty of other horses that would do well, and Chance’s Daughter would probably win the five top races of the year.
Ainsley wished Cameron could make his peace with Lord Pierson—or rather, that Lord Pierson wouldn’t be such a pompous fool. Jasmine was the suffering for their quarrel, and Ainsley’s heart went out to her.
But Ainsley had ideas for solving the problem. Legally of course. She wrote to her brother Steven, hoping to recruit him, but Steven replied that he couldn’t get leave from his regiment. Sinclair was too busy with his practice, Elliot was out of reach in India, of course, and Patrick . . .
Hmm, perhaps Patrick would do very nicely.Before Ainsley could put any plans in motion, however, a telegram came to jolt her out of the new and pleasant hum of her life.
Chapter 26
Cameron walked in while Ainsley was packing. Her upstairs rooms were a mess of boxes and bags, the maids hurrying in and out with articles of clothing. Ainsley had known she’d have to confront Cameron sooner or later, but she’d rather hoped his training would keep him out of doors a little longer.
She took the telegram from her pocket and thrust it at him. “Before you ask, this is what it’s all about.”
Cameron’s eyes flickered as he read the words. Mr. Brown is gone. Come to me at once.
“Brown?” Cameron rumbled. “He’s dead?”
“Apparently.” Ainsley stopped a maid. “No, not the blue. I need the gray and the black. The queen will expect me in mourning.”
Cameron held the telegram between two fingers. “Why does she want you? She must have other ladies who can hold her hand.”
“She confided deeply in me about John Brown, how fond she was of him. He saved her life, really. I understand what she’s feeling.”
“What I mean, Ainsley, is why the devil are you going?”
“It won’t be for long,” Ainsley said. “A few weeks, maybe a month.”
“No.” The word burst out of Cameron, and Ainsley looked at him in surprise. “A month is far too long.”
“It will give me a chance to finish a few things I left hanging. To make a clean end of them.”
“What things?”
“Things from my old life. I packed and left rather abruptly, as you know, once I’d made up my mind to.”
Cameron slapped his hand to her open trunk lid, and the thing clattered shut. The maid looked startled then discreetly faded out the door.
“The queen has a houseful of servants and ladies at her beck and call,” Cameron said. “Why should you go?”
Ainsley had seen Victoria grieve before, how ill she made herself with it. The queen was a robust woman, but she did not handle loss very well. She loved hard and she grieved hard, rather like Cameron in that respect.
“I had another telegram, from one of her ladies,” Ainsley said. “The queen can’t walk, is unable even to rise from her chair. If I can ease some of that, if I can help her again, take my leave of her as friends, then I can return here and begin my life.”