“I wanted to hate him when he was born,” Ethan said. Alice settled near him on the end of Joshua’s bed as he spoke. “He was the ultimate symbol of my failure as a husband, as a man. And yet…” Ethan gazed down at his son. “One day, he smiled at me and grabbed for my nose. Jeremiah wanted to hold him, and the nursery maids wouldn’t countenance such a thing. I held Jeremiah with one arm and the baby with the other, and I was… lost.”

“You’re not lost now. Not you, not Joshua, not Jeremiah. You’ve found each other.”

“We have. I don’t intend to lose either one of my sons.”

Alice gave a fierce little nod. “That’s the spirit.”

“But I nearly did, Alice.” Ethan started rocking slowly. “I convinced myself my children were red-faced, squalling, malodorous, ceaselessly needy little beasts. How could I have been so wrong?”

“You weren’t wrong. You’ve described the average baby, though you left out the part about how irresistibly lovable they are.”

“Irresistibly,” Ethan agreed, kissing Joshua’s forehead. “He’s still hot.”

Alice reached out and laid the back of her hand on Joshua’s forehead.

“No hotter than he was this morning. I think he’ll be fine, Ethan, though I’ve never seen this illness in another child.”

“Nor have I, and my siblings were forever coming down with this or that ailment. We lost two babies, further down the line from Nick and me.”

“A large family seldom sees all the children survive to adulthood. My mother was fortunate all four of us did.”

Ethan cuddled his son a little closer. “One marvels such a slight person should create so much noise for the sheer hell of it.”

“He does it in part to keep Jeremiah from growing up too fast.”

“That one.” Ethan’s gaze traveled to where his older son slept on his side. “He reminds me of myself now, while Joshua reminds me of myself as a child.”

“Quite a contrast. It’s hard to imagine you as devil-may-care as Joshua, but time changes us.”

“Some of us. You’re exhausted, Alice. Why don’t you lie down across the hall, and I’ll rouse you if Joshua should worsen?”

Alice rose tiredly. “I’m going to set a good example for you. I’m going to get some rest because I most assuredly do need it.” She leaned down to brush a finger down Joshua’s cheek then bent to kiss the top of Ethan’s head. “Wake me when you need a break, Ethan, and no heroics. Jeremiah will explode with worry if you fall ill.”

Ethan let her go, though just the one little whiff of her lemony scent brought peace to his soul. Alice turned to leave, pausing to pull the covers up over Jeremiah and tuck them in around him more snugly.

I love her. For those little maternal gestures and how naturally they come to her with these children, I love her.

Alice opened the door then stepped back abruptly. “Nicholas?”

* * *

One didn’t mistake Nick Haddonfield’s presence, and there he was in the corridor, looking large, windblown, and worried. Alice stepped back to let him into the nursery.

“Ethan sent a pigeon, and the roads were dry, and I don’t suppose…” Nick peered past Alice to where Ethan cradled Joshua in the rocking chair. “Is Joshua all right?”

“Nicholas.” Ethan rose, Joshua sleeping in his arms, and surveyed his brother. “You traveled all this way because my son is ill?”

“He’s going to recover, isn’t he?” Nick’s gaze traveled from his brother to his nephew. “He looks fevered.”

Alice tried to fathom the currents swirling between the two brothers, because Nick wasn’t just worried about the boy.

“Joshua started a fever last night. I can’t believe you came.”

“I’ll leave in the morning,” Nick said. “I know I’m not invited, but I was worried, and I also know what a sick child can mean to a parent’s peace of mind…”

Ethan shifted his son and extended a hand to his brother. “I am glad you’re here. I am really, honestly glad you’re here.” The words sounded heartfelt. As Alice watched, Nick’s features smoothed.

He’d been uncertain of his reception. The Earl of Bellefonte had been prepared to be politely rebuffed by his own brother—or perhaps, not so politely.

“He’s sleeping very soundly,” Nick observed. “Has he been bled?”

“I’ll not have it,” Ethan replied, laying Joshua in his bed and drawing up the covers. “He’s weak as it is, and bleeding never did anybody I know of any good.”

“I see.” Nick looked uncomfortable again.

“You don’t agree?” And now Ethan sounded wary too. Jeremiah stirred in his sleep, while Alice didn’t want to leave Ethan and Nick alone.

“I brought a physician with me, Ethan, and please hear me out.”

Ethan straightened the covers around Joshua and brushed a hand over the child’s forehead. “I’m listening.”

“Fairly doesn’t like bleeding either,” Nick said, “and he’s a member of the Royal College, but he also apprenticed to a ship’s doctor. He’s not just an old windbag spouting Latin and carrying around a jar of leeches.”

“I should hope not. Is this the fellow I met at Papa’s funeral?” Still, Ethan regarded his ailing child.

“You did, but my manners are remiss. Alice, a pleasure to see you, though you look exhausted.”

“She is,” Ethan rejoined, holding out a hand to Alice. She crossed the room at this gesture of invitation then nearly stumbled when Ethan captured her hand and drew her against his side. “I’ve kept her up to this ungodly hour because she is in charge of Joshua’s care, and my gratitude to our Alice is without limit.”

Our Alice. She hoped it meant his, Joshua’s, and Jeremiah’s, and maybe even a little bit Nicholas’s too.

Nick grinned at her. “Didn’t take you long to have him eating out of your hand. Let me fetch Viscount Fairly. He’ll want to talk to Alice before ordering her off to bed.”

Nick was back in a moment, bringing with him a tall blond man whose looks Alice would describe as beautiful but unsettling. In the dim light, it took her several minutes to discern that his eyes were two different colors, one blue and one green. Those eyes bore a light of kindness, though, and she was profoundly grateful to Nick for bringing some real medical expertise to the situation.

“Your patient,” Alice began, “is five going on six and answers to Joshua Nicholas Grey. He is as rambunctious as the day is long, and generally quite, quite sturdy. About a week ago, we noticed his energy flagging, and he began taking afternoon naps and coming down late for breakfast. Last night, an hour or so before dawn, his brother, Jeremiah, found him fevered.”

“Other symptoms?” the physician asked.

“Body aches, particularly in his neck, tummy, and upper arms, and this great fatigue. His throat is sore, but it doesn’t seem severely painful. His appetite is off, though his bowels do not pain him. He drinks all the vile potions we force on him then goes back to sleep. He’s just… ill.”

“I don’t want to talk out of turn,” Fairly said, “but given the symptoms you’ve listed, I can bet it isn’t typhoid, malaria, or cholera, neither does it smack of lung fever. We might have some version of influenza here, but I’d like to examine the child, if you don’t mind waking him.”

“I’m up.” Joshua struggled to sit up in his bed. “Is that Uncle Nick?”

“I’m up, too,” Jeremiah chorused. “Joshua, do you have to pee?”

“In private,” Joshua intoned truculently, glancing at the four adults in his bedroom.

“You can use my room,” Alice said. “I’ll have some food and drink put together for our guests.” She slipped from the room, hoping that between the physician and the little boys, neither Ethan nor Nick would do or say anything untoward.

* * *

Despite Joshua’s illness, despite the lateness of the hour and the relative crowd in the children’s room, Ethan watched Alice go.

Nick’s smile as Ethan’s gaze collided with his was sweet and knowing.

Well, what of it?

When the boys returned, Nick excused himself as well, muttering something about seeing how Alice fared in the kitchen.

Joshua peered at his father before climbing back into bed. “Are you leaving, Papa?”

“Good heavens,” the physician said, “he can’t leave, because then we’d have no one to make the introductions, and wouldn’t that be awkward?”

Joshua smiled tentatively at that sally, while Jeremiah’s expression was unconvinced.

“Viscount Fairly,” Ethan began, “may I make known to you my sons, Master Jeremiah Nicholas Grey, and your patient, Master Joshua Nicholas Grey. Boys, his lordship is a physician who was good enough to come here with Uncle Nick.”

Jeremiah took his father’s hand and aimed a worried look upward. “You won’t let him bleed Joshua?”

“I will not,” Ethan said. “No matter how Joshua begs and pleads and longs for a truly impressive scar. Now back into bed, both of you.”

“Yes, Papa.” Joshua’s voice conveyed fatigue, even in two little words.

The physician sat on the child’s bed. “Joshua, I must have your assistance if we’re to find an answer to what’s plaguing you. Will you give me your hand?”

Joshua complied and was taught how to feel a pulse by holding two middle fingers against Lord Fairly’s wrist. They compared pulses and tongues and heartbeats and breathing sounds, aches, and pains until Joshua was yawning again. All the while, Fairly had plied the child with questions, probed gently for soreness and swelling, and conducted a far more thorough examination than the interrogation-and-prescribing Ethan had usually seen pass for medical science.

“You’re tired now?” Fairly asked Joshua.