“Who?” Martha asks, wiggling in her seat.
“Mrs.Stelm and Mrs.Gilpe,” Gwen says theatrically.
Both Martha and Sammie yell in excitement. Louie joins in, shrieking at them with jam all over his cheeks.
“They’re so excited to see all of you,” Beth adds.
“Are they still thinking they’ll arrange with Lady Ashmond to adopt their own?” Bobby wonders.
Beth shrugs. “Not sure. I know Mother and Dashiell could live without them, but I’m not sure Mrs.Stelm and Mrs.Gilpe want to give up their London life.”
“And there’s no way for it to work in the London house, is there?” Gwen asks.
“It would be much more difficult,” Beth agrees. “But the Marchston Cottage is up for sale still, isn’t it?” she asks, looking to Bobby.
“It is, and that’s right next to the plot of land James and Parker are considering for the orphanage. It could be perfect.”
“I’m sure Lady Ashmond would hire them on. They’d be excellent,” Gwen says, smiling. “The best caretakers, outside of us, of course,” she adds, looking around at the children and pulling a silly face.
“I know MissWilson would love to have them here,” Beth says.
“We could have Gilpe and Stelmie here all the time?” Martha asks. Perhaps the days of serious breakfast discussion are starting to wane.
“Maybe,” Beth says firmly. “Don’t get your hopes up, anddon’t bother them about it. They need to make their own decision about how they want to live.”
“But everyone should live here!” Martha insists brightly. “Then we can all play, and everyone can kiss who they want.”
Bobby snorts into his tea as Gwen turns a laugh into a cough.
“Yes, well. We’re all very happy here, and that’s what matters,” Beth says, totally serious. She’s always best at dealing with the children when they’re discussing something important. Bobby and Gwen still just dissolve into giggles, even four years in to being parents.
“What’s all this noise, then?”
Martha turns and squeals, spotting James leaning against the doorjamb into the kitchen. He’s wearing a simple pair of trousers and a green frock coat, and now Bobby is starting to feel a little silly staying in his pajamas with company soon to arrive.
“Papa, Papa, Daddy says we can build forts with Johnnie and Frederic,” Martha announces.
James smiles at Bobby and scoots in between Sammie and Martha, pulling Sammie up onto his lap, where he promptly cuddles into James, taking refuge. James listens to Martha and answers her questions, while making silly faces across at Louie. Beth and Gwen fall into their own discussion about activities and Bobby just sits there, taking it all in.
He doesn’t want James to leave for two months either. Had to stop himself from asking him to stay more than once last night as they lay tangled and sweaty. But this is his job. He goes into the world for them, making laws and working with Albie to grow their fortune.
Uncle Dashiell hasn’t given up hope, but even he isn’t confident that a proposal to give adopted children the right to inherit a title could pass either chamber. So they’ve collectively decided to make the most of the Demeroven title while they have it—big swings, big efforts, big risks. They want to make the world a better place for their children, and all children, for that matter. The businesses James has started with Parker have already created a good fund, and they’ve time to grow it into a fortune, so their children can someday carry on their charity work, even once the titles and estates have returned to the crown.
The doorbell rings and Martha immediately jumps up, tugging Sammie out of James’ arms so they can run toward the front of the house. Gwen hoists Louie into her arms and she and Beth follow them out, leaving James and Bobby sitting at the table.
“Can I just say how much I really don’t want to leave?” James asks.
Bobby smiles sadly and stands, helping James up so he can wrap his arms around him. “I don’t want you to leave either,” he admits. “But you’ve work to do, and we’ll be all right. Full house, and all.” They hear commotion erupt from the front hall.
“Still,” James says, wrapping his arm around Bobby’s waist as they head for the foyer.
James leans into Bobby and brushes his fingers up and down Bobby’s side as they come to the end of the hall, listening to their family chattering on the other side of the doorway.
“I’ll write you terribly filthy letters,” Bobby says, turning to meet James’ eyes.
James snorts and then rises on his toes to press a kiss to Bobby’s lips. “You’d better,” he says as he pulls away.
“It’s a promise,” Bobby decides, taking James’ hand to head into the foyer.
