Skinny grinned. “I ain’t a gentlemun.”
“No—you’re an imp of Satan,” called McClellan from the corridor. “I swear, you’ve left more horse droppings on the rug than a regiment of the King’s Household cavalry!”
“Let us not tease Skinny,” chided Charlotte as she turned in her chair. “I—”
Her words stuck in her throat as she caught sight of the massive bouquet of flowers the boys were carrying toward her. Pale pinks, creamy whites, and dusky lavenders, punctuated by curls of leafy greenery . . . and two dirt-streaked faces peering at her through the fronds.
The effect was breathtakingly beautiful.
A low whistle sounded. Even Skinny was rendered speechless.
“Mr. Tyler said that it’s de-de . . . ,” stuttered Hawk.
“De rigueur,” prompted Raven.
“That it’s de rigueur for a gentleman to show his admiration for a lady after a ball by sending her flowers the next day,” finished Hawk.
“We know how well you waltz,” added Raven. The boys had served as her practice partners while Tyler and McClellan had taught her the steps of the dance in preparation for the occasion. “And we saw how grand you looked in your ball gown . . .”
“Like a fairie princess!” chirped Hawk.
“So we wanted to present you with a token of our esteem.” Raven then nudged his brother and waggled a brow.
“Oh. Right.”
They both stepped forward and bowed in perfect unison.
Charlotte felt tears pearling on her lashes.
“Do you like them?” asked Hawk, looking up through his tangled curls.
“I love them.”
They both smiled as she took the flowers, and suddenly the room seemed filled with a burst of warm light, chasing away the specter of Death and her own dark worries.
“Here, let me take those and put them in a vase.” McClellan flashed a wink at the boys as she bustled by them. “Well done, Weasels.”
“You knew,” murmured Charlotte.
The maid assumed a look of innocence. “Knew what?”
“Owwff.” Having polished off all the pastries, Skinny slid down from his chair. “I need te bobble my bones back te Piccadilly Street.” He looked at the boys. “Ye wanna come along?”
“I can’t. I have a lesson.” Raven glanced at the mantel clock. “I’d better fetch my books and papers from upstairs.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Hawk. “I wish to have a look around Covent Garden and see if there are any interesting new plants to sketch.”
“Mebbe we’ll hear something more about the murder,” said Skinny as the two boys trooped out of the parlor.
“Thank heavens I don’t have to turn my pen to the subject of violent death for my drawing,” murmured Charlotte, though she still felt a little guilty that the poor man would go unremarked, save as a grim statistic. She turned and let out a startled huff.
“Forgive me for appearing unannounced, but the front door was open.” Cordelia Mansfield paused in the doorway. “And McClellan waved at me to enter.”
Charlotte quickly smiled. “As you know, we don’t stand on ceremony in this house. Please come in. Raven is fetching his things from the aerie.”
“What murder were the boys discussing?” asked Cordelia as she stepped into the sunlit parlor.
“A clerk was knifed to death.”
