Holding silent, Gavin returned his focus to Rose.
Nancy knelt next to her mother. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to stay until after Jane’s birthday, would it, Mother? We do not have kites or pall-mall at home.”
“Nor will we,” Rose said bitterly, “Now that Monsieur Lefebvre is no longer a secret.”
“Teasdale isn’t the only man with money, Mother. And Pierre—”
“Would have been more than merely sacked, had I not distracted your father while he made his escape. You did quite enoughtoyour family, young lady, when you should’ve been doing somethingforthem.”
“I’ll marry well, Mama,” Jane put in. “I think love is stupid.”
Gavin ran a hand through his hair. He had no idea how to join the conversation, as he had no idea what the conversation was about. Who was Pierre Lefebvre? And why was the Heatherbrook household permanently without simple activities like kite-flying? That is, unless…
“You mentioned you hoped Nancy would make a match with Mr. Teasdale,” he said. Rose started, as if she’d forgotten he still stood just inside the doorway, and then her head dipped in a quick nod. “Do you have reason to believe him uninterested?”
Nancy blushed and looked away. “He’s old.”
“And rich,” Jane added.
“And displeased,” Rose said with a sigh. “I cannot blame him.”
Nancy rose to her feet and glared down at her mother. “I’ll marry someone else.”
Rose stood as well, returning her daughter’s gaze. “You’ll marry no one else, as we can no longer afford to put in appearances.”
Nancy’s chin lifted. “Then you should’ve let me marry him!”
Rose’s reply was gentle, but firm. “He didn’t offer.”
“He would’ve!”
“Yet he did not.”
“He loved me!” Tears filled Nancy’s eyes. “He wrote me poetry!”
“You are too young to understand.” Rose reached out to touch Nancy’s arm.
Nancy jerked away. “I understand Papa ruined it. Papa ruined everything!”
“Papa’s dead,” Rachel put in.
Rebecca nodded. “Like my dolly.”
With a groan, Nancy spun away from them and stormed past Gavin and out the door. Jane hesitated a second before sprinting after her. Rose sank back onto the sofa and refused to meet Gavin’s eyes.
Why, he had no idea, since their conversation had only grown more confusing with each hurled phrase. The female mind was unfathomable. Nancy hadwantedto marry Teasdale, the deaf old codger? Who had apparently scratched out love letters in his spotted, palsied hand?
After inclining his head to the women, Gavin slipped out of the nursery and back into the corridor. Miss Pemberton still stood about ten meters away, if one could call slumping bonelessly against wainscoting “standing.”
He approached Miss Pemberton with soft, slow steps. Although his footfalls were soundless, her eyelashes lifted as if she sensed the minute shift in the shadows.
She did not smile to see him. The pulse in her throat suggested she was waiting for him to pounce.
He hooked his thumbs in his waistband. “You stayed.”
“You told me to.”
“So I did.”
