Plummy touched his nose and winked. “Can’t say more than that.”
“Well, it’s a relief to us all that you’re on the job, Plummy,” Bud said. “Here, you take this scone and be on your way.” Shenudged Mungo to one side and handed it to the man. “We won’t keep you from protecting Crabbett Close.”
Plummy smiled like a fool in love, stammered out a compliment about Bud’s eyes being the color of sunset even though they were brown, and left.
“Do they know who was behind you being taken away in irons, Mungo?” Mr. Dumple asked.
“Aye, they know.”
“Right then, we’ve work to do, so this conversation can wait,” Bud interjected. “Carry that tray, and I’ll bring the other, Mungo.”
He was soon following her out of the kitchen as Mr. Dumple started singing about vegetables behind them, and they headed for the parlor.
His bed was hours away, but right then he was tired enough to fall into it and sleep for a week. But Mungo was stronger than that. If that jail cell had not broken him, then he could work for a few more hours before he found his bed. Even if he doubted his slumber would be restful, knowing who slept above him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Mungo!” Lottie, Bram and Ivy’s daughter, ran to him.
He bent to let her little arms wrap around his neck. She then kissed his cheek as she released him.
“It’s all right, Lottie. I’m here and not going anywhere.” He placed a hand on her head, nearly cupping it completely. She in turn cupped his cheeks and smiled. Then with a final kiss, she returned to her mother on the sofa.
He wasn’t good with hugging or kissing. Mungo didn’t share his feelings easily, but with the children in this household, he made an exception. Bram had told him that he must.
“They’re broken,” his friend had said to him the night they’d taken them from London many years ago. They’d stopped at a posting house, and he’d found Bram drinking brandy outside in the garden. Mungo had felt the man’s anger and despair. “They need us to heal them, Mungo, and to do that, we have to love them.”
They’d talked, and he’d made Bram a promise to do what was needed from him to heal the Nightingale siblings, and ithad turned out to be a great deal easier than he’d thought it would.
Perhaps he’d needed that contact too. So, he’d slowly let the distraught and wounded children of the late Lord Seddon know he was there for him by patting a shoulder or kissing the top of a head. Over time they’d reciprocated, and his first real hug had come from Theo, the youngest brother in the Nightingale family. He’d thanked Mungo for helping him with his necktie, and then he’d stepped closer and hugged him. It had been brief, over in seconds, but it had been the beginning of what Mungo thought of as the change.
“I’m pleased you are back, Mungo.” Ivy was the next to hug him, and the others all followed. He allowed it, and patted shoulders and heads, until there was only one left.
“Hello, Mungo.”
“Hello, Anna,” he said as she stopped before him.
Unlike the Nightingales, Anna was blond with blue eyes, and she now glowed with good health. That had not been the case when he’d first seen her, pale and near death.
“Are you all right?”
“I am,” Mungo said, placing his hand on the top of her head too. “Don’t fash, lassie,” he added to make her smile, which she always did when he spoke like that. “I’m not leaving you.”
Her smile was small, but it was still a smile. She hugged him tight and then returned to the fire.
“We are to meet the new governess soon,” Theo said. “She is going to get my sisters ready to attend society functions.” His tone was pompous to annoy his sisters.
The boy looked identical to Leo, with a few touches of Alex thrown in. He had attended a few society events, but as yet no balls, and while Mungo wanted him to stay here, where he could protect him, at least when he wasn’t with him, he was with one of his family members.
“Society functions,” Frederica, next in line, mimicked her brother.
Theo bared his teeth at her. “She is not here to aid me, but you rabble, as you will surely take the most work to bring up to scratch.”
“It’s fair to say Miss Downing will have her hands full,” Ram drawled as the argument erupted.
“I thought you were going home,” Mungo said to him.
“I heard Mr. Dumple excelled at gingerbread cake, and of course there are the apricotines I must sample that we purchased on our return journey.”
