The children played, for the most part either upstairs in the nursery or out on the grass, though young Richard, suddenly discovered to be missing one morning, was found inexplicably on Harry’s lap in the library. Both of them were sound asleep.
And then on the third day two more carriages arrived, from Bath this time. The family had been half expecting Harry’s elder sister, Mrs. Cunningham. But they had not expected that her husband and all their children would accompany her or that they would bring with them Mrs. Kingsley, Harry’s maternal grandmother.
Allthe children meant thirteen-year-old Winifred, a plain-faced, serious-minded girl who was as straight as a rod, not yet having begun to bud into womanhood; seven-year-old Robbie, a glowering child who seemed as though he fully expected everyone to look upon him with hostility; four-year-old Sarah, a blond, pretty, sunny-natured little girl; four-year-old Andrew, who Gil soon realized was deaf and mute; three-year-old Jacob; two-year-old Alice; and baby Samuel. It took Gil a while to sort them all out and identify which of them were adopted—Winifred, Robbie, Sarah, and Andrew—and which had been born to the Cunninghams.
Mrs. Cunningham was a handsome, generously—evenlusciously—proportioned lady. She appeared dressed for comfort rather than elegance and seemed quite undisturbed by the demands of her large brood. She explained after they had been borne off to the nursery to greet their cousins why they had all come.
“I had to bring Sam,” she explained, “for obvious reasons. He is four months old. Then Andrew was in a panic when it was made clear to him that I was going to be gone for a while, so I decided to bring him too. But that necessitated bringing Winifred, because she is the one who invented the system of signs we use to communicate with him and she is still sometimes needed to remind us which sign means what. Then Robbie had a tantrum about being left behind because no one cared about him and Sarah wept over him and looked reproachfully at me. One never wants to be the object of Sarah’s reproachful looks or one invariably ends up in tears. So—Robbie and Sarah were coming. And then Jacob asked if Papa could go too so that he would not be sad before realizing that that would meanhewould be left at home without a parent in sight. Alice thereupon climbed onto Joel’s lap and hid her face against his waistcoat as though she thought he was being cruelly abandoned. Then everyone except Sam switched camps and decided to stay home with poor, sad Papa, who then proceeded to annoy everyone, me included, by laughing at us all and refusing to stop. And... well, to add an abrupt ending to a ridiculously long story, here we all are, every last one of us. And since we had to bring two carriages and a nurse if we were to retain our sanity, we persuaded Grandmama to come with us, though she does not like to go too far from home these days.”
She tucked a fallen lock of hair behind one ear, accepteda cup of tea from her mother, and looked critically at her brother, whom she had caught up in a long, silent hug upon her arrival.
“You need to put on some weight, Harry,” she said.
She was, Gil concluded, as different from her sister as it was possible to be. Miss Westcott had been cool and dignified during that week—cool toward him, anyway. He did not know what she was like with her family when he was not present, and he stayed out of the way as much as he possibly could. She did not entirely ignore him or behave in any way toward him that would draw attention to herself, but he sensed anyway that she did not like him, apology given and accepted notwithstanding.
For a few moments out in the woods he had felt something like an attraction to her—or perhaps it was only a momentary lust at the sight of her stroking hands—but she was not an attractive lady. Beautiful, yes. Attractive, no. Yet he found himself watching her far more than he did her cousin or her stepsister, both of whom were lovely and far more lively and approachable than she.
A few times, then, he thought about leaving, even if only temporarily until Harry was alone again. If he everwasalone, that was, and the ladies of his family did not have their way and hire an army of medical-type persons to take up residence here. But even if that happened, Harry would need the companionship of a friend. His family made it very clear that they would not stay longer than a week. He could remain in the background that long.
Besides, he soon had another reason to stay at least as long as the Bath contingent remained. Robbie, the mutinous boy, who had apparently suffered neglect and abuse at a home before landing at the orphanage from which theCunninghams had adopted him, discovered Beauty on the morning after his arrival. He scarcely left her side afterward, even when she was in Gil’s room. The dog, sensing the boy’s need, let him cuddle and curled about him, making herself look more ungainly than ever, and licked whatever exposed part of him she could find.
And Harry needed Gil even though he had all his family. He made that clear when Gil accompanied him up to his room one night after he had rejected offers from various aunts.
“Don’t leave here, Gil,” he begged, supporting himself up the stairs with one hand on the banister while Gil kept his hands clasped at his back. “You are not thinking of leaving, are you? I am touched beyond words that everyone has come long distances to see me. And I love them all dearly. But after they are gone, it is going to be wonderfully peaceful here. Like heaven. And you need some peace too before moving on.”
Harry knew some of Gil’s story, though not all. He knew that Gil had been widowed while he was stationed on St. Helena and that his daughter was living with her grandparents. But he thought she was there only until Gil decided what he was going to do about his military career.
“It is not my needs that are important,” Gil told him.
“No, don’t say that,” Harry protested. “If it is onlymyneeds that are keeping you here, then I will feel a burden and might as well let my mother and the aunts find a nurse or three or ten for me. I have been firm with them about employing a valet. I can just imagine the sort of paragon they would choose. I would be forever hiding from him. I intend to choose for myself. Indeed, I already have someone in mind. But I need— No. I wouldlikea friend herewith me too. Stay because you want to, Gil. Or because you need to. Or not at all.”
“I will stay,” Gil promised. “Until I have sorted some things out, anyway. Or until you tire of my companionship.”
“That will be a good long while,” Harry said. “But I am growing impatient, Gil. I want my body back and my strength and energy. And... my life. I am not planning to sit around all day every day by the fire, a blanket over my knees, a book perched on top of it. I do not evenenjoyreading, for the love of God.”
Gil chuckled and watched his friend step into his room and shut the door firmly behind him. It was half past eight, a time at which the old Harry would probably have been only beginning to think about going out for the evening.
•••
The debate about what was to be done with Harry went on all week among the aunts and grandmothers, who could not bear the thought of leaving him to the ministrations of no one but servants. The men had generally avoided the discussion, as had the younger women, both of which groups recognized that Harry was weak of body but not feeble of mind. He had come to Hinsford for a reason, most probably to avoid the very sort of fuss that was being made over him anyway.
“Being alone here is precisely what will suit him best, much as we may abhor the thought,” Camille told the younger ladies when she was upstairs in the nursery with them on a drizzly morning while the men were in the library with Harry, and the aunts and grandmothers were huddled in the drawing room. “Mrs. Sullivan is perfectly capable of seeing to all except his most personal needs, andhe says he is going to hire a valet to see to those. Poor Harry. It is perfectly clear that he has been bothered by enough physicians and nurses to last him a lifetime or two.” She turned her attention suddenly to her young daughter. “No, Alice. Be kind. Rebecca merely wants to look at your doll. There is no need to shove her away.”
“I wish he would come to London when we return there,” Jessica said after Anna had put an end to the squabble by giving Rebecca her own doll and suggesting that both little girls rock their babies to sleep. “It would be lovely for him to be there and lovely for all of us to have him so close. But I know he will not agree to that.”
“Avery says he will let us all fuss and worry and plan and cajole and weep and wring our hands,” Anna said, “and then wave us all cheerfully on our way while he heaves a huge sigh of relief.”
“I am quite sure Avery is right,” Wren said, laughing. “It is Alexander’s opinion too. Are you ready for a nap, sweetheart?” She lifted a yawning Richard onto her lap and he snuggled against her.
Abigail drew a slow breath and released it. She had been afraid of saying anything about her plan too soon lest it be disapproved of and cause even more discussions and arguments and a concerted effort to get her to change her mind.
“I am going to stay here,” she announced.
Everyone turned to look at her in some surprise.
“Stay?” Camille said. “Here at Hinsford, do you mean, Abby? After the rest of us go home?”
“Yes,” Abigail said. “I have asked Harry if he minds, and he does not.”
