The Wrens were sodear in parting that Georgie fought a surprising sting of tears. Oh, she wished they were her new staff instead of Grey’s, whom she still had to win over. She wished she could stay at the cozy breakfast table sating herself on toast and eggs and Mrs. Wren’s comforting smile. But they had little girls to see to, little girls who were going to lose a bit more stability by the next morning.
She had, as ever, responsibilities.
And so, with a final wave, she let Grey help her into the carriage.
The ride back into the city was more comfortable than she’d expected. Grey sat next to her, holding her hand, and he filled her in on everyone in his London staff, from Chalmers the butler, who had let her in that first day, to Midget the scullery maid, who had been brought in like several of her compatriots from a foundling home.
He admitted he didn’t know all of them well, since he hadn’t spent much time at the London house until very recently, but he couldn’t think of one she would have problems with. She sincerely hoped he was right.
The good news was that she had quite a bit of experience with staff, from hiring to firing. The difference with his staff was that their loyalty would never be first to her.
By the time they reached her house she felt more settled. After all, managing staff was her forte. She’d been doing it since she was fourteen. And if the reaction of her staff at seeing her was any indication, she hadn’t been awful at it. Clarence, the first footman, welcomed them in with a deep bow and handed them off to Weems with a broad smile. Weems looked like a proudfather, and Mrs. Barnes, rustling and jangling up, did everything but genuflect.
“Well now, Lady Coleford, welcome back. I assume you’ve come to collect those scamps who’ve become our latest circus performers.”
Next to Georgie, Grey stiffened. “I thought you were joking.”
Georgie grinned. “Heavens, no. Dogs, tumbling, or elephant, Mrs. Barnes?”
Mrs. Barnes chuckled. “Oh, all of it. Especially Lady Sophie. She and Master Geoffrey have been learning somersaults.”
“And Lady Amelia?”
“Holding the cat.”
She nodded. “Come, my lord, and see the Packham circus.”
It wasn’t quite as out of control as she’d led him to believe. The circus, just like all other activities for the children, was contained in the nursery, which took up the third floor of the combined townhouses. Besides the dogs, which were indeed attired in brightly colored jackets and frilly collars, there resided a large mobile wooden elephant, two somnolent tabby cats dressed as tigers, and a swing that hung from the ceiling, upon which Amelia was kicking her legs back and forth to try to gain some height. Grey almost objected until Georgie surreptitiously held him back with a hand and a minute shake of the head.
“Are you having fun, Amelia?” she asked quietly.
Her new niece gave a beatific smile. “May we have a swing in our nursery, Uncle Grey?”
“We’ll see,” Georgie answered for him. “Miss O’Toole, has it been a good day?”
A tall, almost skeletal-thin woman of indeterminate age unfolded herself from a seat in the corner, a mass of knitting in her hands. She had the smile of a mystic monk.
“Ah, they’ve been grand, milady,” she said with a very precise dip.
And then she made a noise between a throat-clearing and a hum, and the half-dozen of Georgie’s young kin came charging forward to give Georgie and Grey their own version of bows or curtsies, most giggling. Georgie giggled back. Which was when she noticed that Sophie and Amelia did not join in. In fact, the two of them froze, as if caught in a crime. Amelia slid off the swing and Sophie, who had been riding the elephant behind Geoffrey, stumbled forward to stand just next to her sister. Clutching hands, the two of them, produced stiff little curtsies, their heads and eyes lowered.
“We are sorry, my lord,” they chorused.
Georgie felt a chill slither down her back. She gave Grey a quick glance. The color had leeched from his face.
“Have you been having fun?” he asked with a step forward.
Both girls edged back. “Yes, Uncle Grey.” In chorus. “It is good to see you.”
Grey froze in place, obviously confused. So Georgie took over. Stepping past her crew, who were looking at the girls as if they were foreign objects, she crouched down to her knees right in front of the girls.
“Your manners are excellent,” she said, just for them. She got both sets of eyes up to her, although both girls looked far too afraid. She truly hoped they couldn’t see how blazingly angry she was. The last thing any of them needed was for the girls to think she was angry at them. “But as you can tell from these monkeys,” she continued, “we are not used to being formal here. It makes me nervous, isn’t that true, Geoffrey?”
Geoffrey switched his attention from the girls to Georgie and back. He saw her slow wink and nodded. “My sister isn’t very formal, you know.”
“In fact,” Georgie continued, fighting hard to keep from just grabbing those little girls to her. “I don’t prefer it at all. Certainly not here in the nursery. After all, Miss O’Toole wouldn’t have itwhen I was a girl. I don’t think she would now. Would you, Miss O’Toole?”
“Formal manners are a lovely thing in the drawin’ room,” she said, her voice soft and sure. “But as I told you yesterday, I far prefer to see my children have fun up here.”
