She couldn’t remember a more interesting evening. Jack’s brother was a marvel. He’d played the pianoforte for them, with Jacques turning in delighted circles until he was so dizzy he fell down, and then insisted on personally carrying his nephew upstairs to Emilie before rejoining Jack and her in the music room. He’d sat at the pianoforte once more, this time playing his own accompaniment as he sang French songs, looking pointedly at Tess until she gave up and joined in. And Jack? Well, Jack was very good at keeping time with his foot, she’d give him that. They’d laughed through dinner, with the brothers sharing incriminating stories about each other’s childhood antics before the conversation turned more serious and she heard about Puck’s wife, Regina, and a harrowing time not that long ago that had brought Puck and Jack back together, as brothers, as fellow conspirators. Rather than retire, leaving them to their brandy and cigars, she had stepped outside with them on the dining room balcony to enjoy the freshness of the air after a sudden shower, the sort that was no stranger to London at this time of year.
