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the reason you’ll be glad we crashed your gate,” Belmont said. “Get Mr. Lindsey to set aside his figuring, or the locusts will not leave him any lunch.” Belmont retrieved a very large wicker hamper from the back of the wagon and bellowed for his offspring to wash their filthy paws if they wanted even a crust of bread. A picnic fit for a regiment was soon laid out on a blanket spread in the shade.
    â€œCompliments of my wife,” Belmont said, “in exchange for getting her menfolk out from underfoot for a few hours.”
    â€œLunch!” Dayton and Phillip gamboled up, every bit as energetic as they’d been hours earlier.
    â€œOne of their nine favorite meals of the day. Sit down, you lot, and wait for your elders to snatch a few crumbs before you destroy all in your path.”
    As food was passed around among the adults, Belmont continued speaking. “Day and Phil concocted a plan for Phillip to start school a year early so all five Belmont cousins could have one year at university together. Abby was enthusiastic about it, since it will give us a little time at Candlewick before the baby arrives and all hell breaks loose once again.”
    â€œI didn’t realize you were in anticipation of a happy event.” Val smiled genially, but ye gods… Val’s sister-in-law Anna had just been delivered of a son, while the wife of his other brother, Devlin, was expecting. David and Letty were still adjusting to the arrival of a daughter. Nick’s wife would no doubt soon be in a similar condition, and it seemed as if all in Val’s world could be measured by the birth—imminent or recent—of a child.
    â€œI find the prospect of parenthood…”—Belmont’s expression became pensive—“sweet, an unexpected opportunity to revisit a previous responsibility I took too much for granted.”
    â€œHe didn’t appreciate us,” Day translated solemnly then ruined the effect by meeting his brother’s gaze and bursting into guffaws.
    â€œI did.” Belmont corrected them easily. “But as a very young father might. I am an old hand now and will go about the job differently.”
    Val rummaged in the hamper, finding the topic unaccountably unsettling. “I put you at, what? Less than five years my senior?”
    â€œWe’re surrounded by duffers, Day.” Phil rolled his eyes dramatically. “The only saving grace is they’ve no teeth and can’t do justice to the meat.”
    â€œYou two.” Belmont scowled at his sons. “No dessert if you don’t make some pretense of domestication immediately.”
    â€œNot that.” Day rolled to his back, letting his arms and legs twitch in the air. “Phil, he uttered the Worst Curse, and we’ve hardly done anything yet.”
    â€œMay I finish your sandwich?” Phillip reached for his brother’s uneaten portion.
    â€œTouch it”—Day sat up immediately—“and it’s pistols, swords, or bare-knuckle rules.”
    Darius accepted the pie Val withdrew from the hamper. “And to think, Valentine,” Darius drawled, “your mother raised five of these, what are they? Boys?”
    â€œDemons,” Belmont muttered. “Spawn of Satan, imps from hell.”
    â€œBeloved offspring,” Dayton and Phillip chorused together.
    â€œHush,” Belmont reproved. “I haven’t sprung Nick’s plan on Lord Val yet, so you’ve made a complete hash of my strategy.”
    â€œOops.” Dayton glanced at Phillip. “Let’s go check on the horses, Phil. You swear you’ll let us have a piece of pie?” He drilled his father with a very adult look.
    â€œHonor of a Belmont. Now scat.”
    They went at a run that nonetheless included elbows shoved into ribs and laughter tossed into the building heat. The sense of silence and stillness left in their wake was slightly disorienting.
    â€œAnd