I smiled. “I must warn you, their faces can be somewhat deceiving . . . they often prove to be quite mischievous.”
She threw her hand out in disagreement. “Nonsense. No young boy is truly himself if he doesn’t prove to be mischievous every now and then. A small bit of mischief wouldn’t make them any less darling.” She winked.
Perhaps not asmall bit. I truly hoped they wouldn’t give her any reason to change her opinion. I followed Mrs. Kellaway toward the old man with whom my brothers had been speaking. “Meet my father, Mr. Hugh Everard.”
I curtsied politely. I gave Peter and Charles a questioning look, grateful to have them so near as a diversion from polite conversation—a skill I had never possessed. “What have you two been doing?”
“We played outside and then we came inside and talked to Mr. Everard,” Peter said, tugging on my arm with excitement. “He taught us a trick.”
I raised my eyebrows. “A trick? May I see it?”
Peter glanced at Charles, then back at me. “Mr. Everard should show you. He’s the best at it.”
Mr. Everard chuckled lightly. “No, no, I will allow you to show her.” His voice was low and soft, a surprising match to his gruff appearance.
Peter and Charles clasped their hands together in pleading gestures. Charles stuck out his lower lip. “Please, please, please, show her?”
I could tell that Mr. Everard was considering it, his mouth twisting in thought. “Oh, very well,” he said. He pointed ablaming finger at my brothers. “How could I possibly say no to those eyes?”
“It is horribly difficult,” I agreed.
Mr. Everard sat up in his chair and stared at my brothers in silence for several seconds, building the suspense in their expressions. “I shall begin.”
I glanced up to see Owen walk over to stand beside me. “Wait, Grandfather, I want to see too.” He shot a glance in my direction. “It never fails to amaze me.”
I pressed down my smile before it could form. He was utterly ridiculous.
“Does anyone else wish to join us before I begin?” Mr. Everard asked in an impatient voice.
His wife waved her hand dismissively before placing a pair of spectacles on her nose. “We can see you well enough from here.”
Mr. Everard turned in his chair to face his audience. I watched as he held up two fingers, pinched together. “This is my invisible needle and thread. Mrs. Everard gave it to me as a gift for my birthday. She is always insisting that I learn to sew.” He smiled wryly, letting a pause precede his words, “and learn to sew I did.”
Peter and Charles giggled, their eyes lighting up.
“I am going to sew my mouth right shut.” Mr. Everard took his pinched fingers to his upper lip and poked the right side of it. “Oh!” he gasped, feigning the pain that would come from the poke of a needle.
A smile crept onto my face as I watched his expressions. He pulled his invisible needle up through his lip, pulling it down, then up again. As he did, the corner of his lip moved as if truly suspended by a strand of thread.
Peter and Charles gaped in amazement. Owen shook his head, as if completely bewildered. He gave me a grin that I saw from the corner of my eye.
Mr. Everard repeated the mime with all four corners of his lips, then pretended to knot the end of the thread. His eyes widened in fear as he attempted—but failed—to open his mouth. “Mmph mmm mmph!”
My brothers burst into giggles and clapped their hands. I laughed, and against my will, turned my head to Owen, who was laughing too. I looked away fast.
After the lip-sewing display was over, Owen went to the corner to reclaim his seat on the sofa, and my brothers took their seats on the settee beside Mr. Everard. I could already tell that the three of them would be fast friends.
I surveyed the room for a place to sit, bunching the sides of my skirts in my palms. The only place available was beside Owen. He gave the cushion beside him a pat. Did his brows wiggle? I couldn’t be certain. I glanced around one last time, in desperate search of an alternative.
Unfortunately, there were none.
CHAPTER 8
Isat as far from Owen as possible, crossing my leg in the opposite direction. I attempted a discreet glance at his face, but found his gaze already locked on mine.
“You looked like you wanted to flee from the room when you realized the only place to sit was beside me.” He regarded me in a serious manner that I hadn’t seen before now. “If I have done anything to offend you, I sincerely apologize.”
I sneaked a speculative glance at his face. He did seem sincere. Almost. But something about the way his lips were curled up at the corners made me feel like I wasstillbeing teased. I did not like it. Not at all.
