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“You have a daughter,” Ailie remarked. “How lovely. What’s her name?”

“Anne Claire.”

Ailie inclined her head, wanting to hear more.

Kit obliged. “Anne was my sister’s name and Claire is Martin’s mother’s name.”

Not wishing to inquire as to what happened to Kit’s sister, Ailie said, “Anne Claire is a bonnie name.”

“Annie is the light of our lives,” said Martin, his smile wide as the proud papa.

“Given our family’s propensity to have sons,” interjected Nick, “she may be the only female grandchild our parents will see, so Martin did well to add Claire to her name after our mother.”

The footmen poured the wine and took up the empty soup bowls.

Declaring they should proceed as they meant to go on, Will announced, “Since Emily tells me the ladies insist, and we cannot very well call every man ‘Powell’, given names will be used for all save Ormond, who has been the Marquess of Ormond since birth.”

Will smiled broadly, apparently satisfied with himself, and added, “Even Lady Claremont has expressed a desire for us to address her as ‘Muriel’ during her stay. ’Tis the name Emily calls her.”

The countess’ mouth formed a faint smile. “Indeed.”

Ailie thought the dignified woman might be enjoying her respite from London’s more formal life.

“I don’t see why I should be left out of all this happy bonhomie,” complained Ormond. “After all, Hugh is a perfectly acceptable given name.”

“Hear, hear,” said his wife Mary. “Away with ‘lord’ and ‘lady’ for our sojourn in Scotland.”

“Oh, very well,” chimed in Will. “If you can adjust to losing your lordly title for the weeks you are here, I see no reason why we cannot oblige you, though you will have to excuse me should I slip now and then.”

Martin raised his wine glass in toast. “To Hugh, formerly known as Lord Ormond!”

Ailie and the rest of the happy company lifted their glasses. “To Hugh!”

“And I don’t want to hear a single ‘Sir Martin’ the entire time I am here,” threw in Martin.

Everyone laughed, even the very proper countess.

The footmen served the fish course, fresh trout baked with butter and herbs from Emily’s garden.

“Salmon and trout are often on the menu,” said Emily in response to their guests’ first bites. “I hope you like the seasoning. The herbs are fresh from the orangery.”

“’Tis very good,” said Tara, “as was the soup.”

Hugh, formerly Ormond, returned to their prior conversation, saying to Will, “For the benefit of those who don’t know, you might as well hear of all our children, or as you would say in Scotland, our ‘bairns’. Mary and I have two sons, Henry and Philip, both still in leading-strings.”

“Tara and I have two boys as well,” put in Nick. “Both babes. Sean is the eldest, born a few months after Martin and Kit’s daughter. He’s named for my wife’s father, who owns Stag Shipping in Baltimore. Since he was not keen on our marriage, we thought to make him a happy grandfather. Our youngest, Simon, was born this last summer. We named him for my father.”

“A prolific group,” offered the countess.

“They are,” agreed Will, “and Emily and I will soon be joining them.” Emily blushed and dropped her gaze but a half-smile played about her mouth. They had shared many a conversation in which her sister-in-law had confided how much she looked forward to her first child.

“A cause for champagne,” said Hugh.

“I had planned to have it for our Christmas feast,” returned Will.

“Are the children spending Christmas with their grandparents?” inquired Muriel.

“Mine are,” replied Hugh. “And most happily if you ask my parents. Mary’s mother will be joining them for the holiday.”