5, 1821
The Hansens climbed the steps of the Atherton porch once again. With a shared squaring of shoulders, Nicolas rapped the heavy knocker. Soon the door opened and they were ushered into another evening with Lord and Lady Ezra Warpold Kensington. After the usual pleasantries, and much fussing over the infant Glynnis, the gathering moved to the dining room.
A familiar newspaper was folded on Nicolas’s plate.
“ What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded of Sydney.
“ Sydney had nothing to do with it!” Rickard stated. “Why would you think she had?”
Nicolas shook his head and moved the newspaper to the sideboard. “Never mind.”
Sydney picked it up. “Rickard, do you think this might apply to Nicolas?”
Rickard took the paper from Sydney and waved it under Nicolas’s nose. “It’s the logical answer to all his fretting!”
Sydney raised one brow at Nicolas. “I agree.”
Rickard turned to her, surprised. “You do?”
“ I told him the same thing when I read it!”
“ Read what?” Lily pulled the periodical from her brother’s hand. Her brow dipped as she scanned the article. Then she looked at Nicolas. “Are you considering running for office?”
“ No. I am not.” He pulled out Sydney’s chair and waited for her to sit.
“ Why not?” Lily pressed. “I think you would be magnificent!”
“ Will you sit, darling?” Nicolas urged his wife. She shot him a look, then lowered slowly into the proffered seat. He sat in the chair beside her and folded his hands, waiting silently.
“ Why are you such an ass?” Rickard laughed and held the chair for Bronnie.
“ Are you considering politics in America at all?” Ezra asked, holding Lily’s chair.
Nicolas pulled his attention to the elderly man. “I had not.”
“ And why not?” Bronnie asked. Seeing his glare she glanced over at Rickard, then back again. “I only wondered what your reasoning is, is all.”
Nicolas sat back in his chair. “I have enough to do at the estate.”
“ No you don’t,” Sydney quipped.
Nicolas frowned at his outspoken wife. “Yes, I do.”
She leaned toward him. “No, you don’t. Jeremy and Jack are doing almost everything, and Leif works hard when he’s not in school. Even John pitches in.”
“ Why are you pushing this so hard, wife?” he grumbled.
“ Because you want to change the world,” she and Rickard stated in unplanned tandem. The room bubbled with laughter.
Nicolas blushed. “So maybe I said that once before.”
Rickard pointed at Nicolas. “Brother, you harbor the romantic notion that the world might be fixed.”
“ And you have your experiences with the Storting in Norway to draw on!” Sydney added.
“ And you are well-educated!” Bronnie the erstwhile school teacher added.
“ And very, very presentable,” Lily purred.
“ And popular, so it would seem!” Ezra posited.
Nicolas did not know what he felt. Part of him wished to remain secluded on his estate and deal only with his newly expanded family. But another part of him, the part that pushed him to buy Jack and Sarah even though he was vehemently opposed to slavery, the part that sent him to Norway to explore the possibility of the throne though he was a staunch American, the part of him that came alive again with Sydney, niggled at him to do it.
“ It’s too much,” he demurred. “I don’t even know if anyone outside this room would ever consider me.”
Sydney rested her hand on his arm. “We’ll drop the idea for now.” Her gray-green eyes met everyone else’s, then moved to his. “But please do consider it, husband. Will you?”
Recognizing a compromise when it slapped him across the cheek—was that another qualification?—Nicolas dipped his chin to the dinner guests. “I will. I promise.”
“ Good! Now might we eat?” Rickard rang for dinner.
November 10, 1821
Sydney sat on the bed, her fists kneading Ruthie’s lower back while she counted through the birth pains.
The Hansens climbed the steps of the Atherton porch once again. With a shared squaring of shoulders, Nicolas rapped the heavy knocker. Soon the door opened and they were ushered into another evening with Lord and Lady Ezra Warpold Kensington. After the usual pleasantries, and much fussing over the infant Glynnis, the gathering moved to the dining room.
A familiar newspaper was folded on Nicolas’s plate.
“ What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded of Sydney.
“ Sydney had nothing to do with it!” Rickard stated. “Why would you think she had?”
Nicolas shook his head and moved the newspaper to the sideboard. “Never mind.”
Sydney picked it up. “Rickard, do you think this might apply to Nicolas?”
Rickard took the paper from Sydney and waved it under Nicolas’s nose. “It’s the logical answer to all his fretting!”
Sydney raised one brow at Nicolas. “I agree.”
Rickard turned to her, surprised. “You do?”
“ I told him the same thing when I read it!”
“ Read what?” Lily pulled the periodical from her brother’s hand. Her brow dipped as she scanned the article. Then she looked at Nicolas. “Are you considering running for office?”
“ No. I am not.” He pulled out Sydney’s chair and waited for her to sit.
“ Why not?” Lily pressed. “I think you would be magnificent!”
“ Will you sit, darling?” Nicolas urged his wife. She shot him a look, then lowered slowly into the proffered seat. He sat in the chair beside her and folded his hands, waiting silently.
“ Why are you such an ass?” Rickard laughed and held the chair for Bronnie.
“ Are you considering politics in America at all?” Ezra asked, holding Lily’s chair.
Nicolas pulled his attention to the elderly man. “I had not.”
“ And why not?” Bronnie asked. Seeing his glare she glanced over at Rickard, then back again. “I only wondered what your reasoning is, is all.”
Nicolas sat back in his chair. “I have enough to do at the estate.”
“ No you don’t,” Sydney quipped.
Nicolas frowned at his outspoken wife. “Yes, I do.”
She leaned toward him. “No, you don’t. Jeremy and Jack are doing almost everything, and Leif works hard when he’s not in school. Even John pitches in.”
“ Why are you pushing this so hard, wife?” he grumbled.
“ Because you want to change the world,” she and Rickard stated in unplanned tandem. The room bubbled with laughter.
Nicolas blushed. “So maybe I said that once before.”
Rickard pointed at Nicolas. “Brother, you harbor the romantic notion that the world might be fixed.”
“ And you have your experiences with the Storting in Norway to draw on!” Sydney added.
“ And you are well-educated!” Bronnie the erstwhile school teacher added.
“ And very, very presentable,” Lily purred.
“ And popular, so it would seem!” Ezra posited.
Nicolas did not know what he felt. Part of him wished to remain secluded on his estate and deal only with his newly expanded family. But another part of him, the part that pushed him to buy Jack and Sarah even though he was vehemently opposed to slavery, the part that sent him to Norway to explore the possibility of the throne though he was a staunch American, the part of him that came alive again with Sydney, niggled at him to do it.
“ It’s too much,” he demurred. “I don’t even know if anyone outside this room would ever consider me.”
Sydney rested her hand on his arm. “We’ll drop the idea for now.” Her gray-green eyes met everyone else’s, then moved to his. “But please do consider it, husband. Will you?”
Recognizing a compromise when it slapped him across the cheek—was that another qualification?—Nicolas dipped his chin to the dinner guests. “I will. I promise.”
“ Good! Now might we eat?” Rickard rang for dinner.
November 10, 1821
Sydney sat on the bed, her fists kneading Ruthie’s lower back while she counted through the birth pains.
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