My dear, how delightful to see you.” Juliet Faulk beamed up at her tall brother from the chaise longue in her pink and white boudoir. She held out her hand and he bowed over it correctly, then unbent sufficiently to lean forward and kiss her cheek. “Pull up a chair and sit down.” He obeyed. “You look very well, Ju.” “Why should I not? Pregnancy is not a disease. Oh, don’t poker up, Ben! You cannot consider it improper to speak of my condition to my own brother.” Benedict gave her a rueful smile which transformed his austere face. “No, of course not.” “Especially after you helped me through the last months with Timmy, when Faulk had to go to Vienna.” “How is Timmy?” “Flourishing. Learning his ABCs already. You will go up to the nursery, will you not? He’d be sadly let down if he knew you had called without visiting him. His favourite uncle!” “The effect of bribery. As a matter of fact, I’ve brought him a cuckoo whistle,” he added gruffly. “I hope he’ll not drive his nurse mad with blowing on it.”
