He glanced down at her, finding her staring up at him with something like panic in her eyes.
“No, I am not,” he assured her, crouching down so that he was at her eye level. “Although I’m sure that Amelia would find this every bit as funny.”
Nancy shook her head seriously. “She wouldn’t. Amelia is very serious. She was always smiling and laughing when Mama was alive. She was happy when Papa visited us, too. Then he stopped visiting, and everything changed.”
Stephen bit his lip thoughtfully. “Your papa?”
“Yes, our papa. We’re not allowed to say that he’s our papa. He just didn’t come one day, and then Marjory read in the paper that he’d died. We weren’t allowed to go to the funeral, and we had to move out of our house.”
“Do you miss your papa?”
“A little.” She nodded. “But I miss Mama more. She took to her bed after we had to leave our house. I wish Amelia could be happy again. Marjory says we have to wait for her to get better, but it’s taking ever so long. Do you think Amelia might be happier now that we are here?”
Stephen gnawed on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know. Do you?”
Nancy shrugged loosely. “At first, I thought we could try and cheer her up with lots of jokes and maybe some nice food, but Marjory said that she wouldn’t like that at all. Is it bad that I’m not as sad about Papa’s passing as Marjory and Amelia?”
“I don’t think so. They knew him longer than you, didn’t they? How often did he visit?”
Nancy considered. “He always came on our birthdays and Mama’s. He brought presents and things. I liked him very much, but it was always strange to think that he was ourpapa. Other people’s papas are there all the time, aren’t they?”
Stephen nodded. “Yes. I spent every day with my papa, growing up.”
“And we can’t say that our Papa was our papa, not even now.”
“That must be difficult.”
Nancy sighed. “Yes, but it’s more difficult now that Amelia is so sad. Should I be sad, too?”
“There’s no harm in being happy. Not for you, and not for Tiny,” Stephen assured her.
At the sound of his name, Tiny’s tail began to wag again.
Nancy gave a small smile, her face brightening a little. “You are a good monster,” she murmured.
Stephen blinked, taken aback by the comment. Clearing his throat, he reached out and lifted her into his arms.
“Now, there are pieces of pottery all over this foyer, and you must be careful not to cut yourself. I’m going to take you back to the breakfast room. You too, Tiny.”
The dog leaped to his feet, picking his way delicately among the shards. Holding the little girl in his arms, Stephen turned to go back down the hallway and stopped dead.
Amelia stood in the entrance to the foyer, watching him. There was a strange look on her face, which vanished as soon as their eyes met.
“I’m sorry that Nancy and Tiny are making trouble,” she said, holding out her arms for the child.
“They aren’t,” he responded brusquely, handing Nancy over. “I hope you all settle in nicely, but don’t get too comfortable.”
Amelia faltered. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing terrible,” he assured her. “I’ll explain tonight at dinner. Good day to you.”
He stepped past her and strode away, not entirely sure what to make of the way his heart hammered against his ribs.
I need to clear my head. Now.
Across the cavernous boxing room, the sound of gloved fists hitting leather punching bags echoed. Here and there, a few men had taken to the rings, squaring off against each other.
None of them glanced up as Stephen strode by. Why would they? Orion membership had swelled over the past few years, as most of London’s fashionable youth strived to be admitted to either the Orion or the Ton’s Devils. The famous founder of the Orion, Orion himself, was known to be anonymous, so why on earth would he risk striding through the clubhouse in broad daylight, bold as brass?
