Husband Wanted (HC #1)

12: The First Day of the Rest

At Thomas' suggestion, they moved their discussion from the dining room to John's room. The man lowered the book he was reading in surprise as they knocked and filed in.

"Welcome back," he said, eyes crinkling with humour but shining with curiosity.

The room turned to Thomas. "My father is throwing a party in a couple of weeks and I think you should all attend."

Beth moved forward, smiling a greeting to John, and offering him the invitation. He accepted it, glanced quickly at the inscription, and then back at Thomas. "Why?"

"If the duke or Henry gave you the ring, then they'll recognise you," unconsciously, he fiddled with the ring on his own hand, "they might even know your true identity."

Bart folded his arms across his chest. "But would they tell us? By all accounts your family doesn't sound like they'd willingly volunteer any information."

The younger man grinned. "Oh, you're right – they wouldn't. However, I am... accustomed... to their confusion, secrecy and rage, so their reactions when they see you will tell me enough."

John's brows rose. "Me?" He pointed at his chest, as if to confirm they were all on the same page. "I've not left this bed in, what, two weeks?" Beth nodded. "How do you suppose I can attend a ball?"

Thomas made a noise, flapping his hand casually. "Where there's a will, there's a way."

"I have a way." The entire room, with the exception of John, jumped and spun towards the door, startled to find Phil standing behind them with her arms folded. She had one brow raised as she assessed her siblings, her gaze finally settling on Simon with a shake of her head. "You really thought you could keep me away?"

He let out a reluctant laugh, taking her by the shoulder and drawing her into a hug. "I thought I could try. Does our Aunt Jemima at least know you've returned?"

"I never left." A slight hint of pride crept into her tone. "I wrote to Aunt Jemima this morning that I wasn't feeling well. I suggested that I might be getting my monthlies for the first time and it was best that I stay home."

The room was divided on how to respond to that. John, Vincent and Beth were embarrassed, keeping their wide eyes trained on the ceiling, walls or floor. Matt and Thomas were amused, laughing aloud. Simon let out a low chuckle as well. And Bart, as per usual, just shook his head and accepted that it had been said.

"You're a little young," Simon said softly. With the death of their parents, he had accepted his role as father to Phil. Her intelligence had made most awkward conversations unnecessary, but that did not mean that he hadn't prepared for them – both with knowledge and emotional fortitude.

The little girl shrugged. "It was a false-alarm."

Her brother nodded sagely. "So then how much of the luncheon did you overhear?"

For the first time, she looked her age, a cheeky smile creepy across her face. Instead of replying, she just grinned broadly.

With a sigh and a small smile of his own, Simon tapped her on the cheek before looking to the rest of the room. "Well then, where were we?"

John heaved a sigh, one hand absently rubbing at his injured leg. "If Phil knows a way for me to attend the party, then I agree that I should. I need to know who I am, and if your family," he nodded at Thomas, "might hold that answer then I need to be there."

Thomas looked like he might clap with joy. "Excellent!"

.

Phil's plan took almost a week to come to fruition. In that time, the doctor was called to confirm whether it would do any harm for John to be upright. Doctor Williams was very much in favour of the idea, suggesting that as long as John took regular pauses and kept the leg braced, then some exercise might do him the world of good. It might even help return his memory.