She contained the impulse and glided into Kimpton House after Lorelei, draping her pelisse over her arm.
“Are the children ready, Oswald?” Lorelei asked him.
“Yes.” Kimpton stepped out of the parlor, followed by three children—two girls and a boy—followed by Brock and Harlowe.
Maeve’s gaze went straight to Harlowe. He was younger than Brock and Kimpton by a good ten years, but the man could hold his own, Maeve thought. The past year had aged him beyond his age of five and twenty. The breadth of his shoulders couldn’t be denied. His color, as she’d noted earlier, was healthier. His hazel eyes gleamed. If he could parade about London in the night hours with no ill-effects, a day at the park could only help, she decided, magnanimously.
“We are ready, Lady Kimpton,” Irene said. “Most especially Nathan.” She had him by the hand. His thumb was in his mouth.
“Are all of you accompanying us?” Ginny asked. She looked as stunned as Maeve felt.
Brock sauntered over and kissed her. “Of course, my dear. We couldn’t very well expect Harlowe to go it alo—”
“ExpectHarlowe,” Lorelei echoed. “You mean”—she shot her brother a glare—“you feel you are being forced to spend time with your child?”
Maeve froze, and from the corner of her eye, she caught the hurt in Harlowe’s expression.
Harlowe stepped over and hugged Lorelei. He was quick, Maeve gave him that. “Of course not,” he told her. He winced. “I just don’t know him. I can’t remember—” His eyes shot to the company: Irene, Cecilia, Ginny, finally stopping on Maeve. “I don’t have much experience with children. Any more than you’ve had, my dear.”
Lorelei’s demeanor softened immediately. “Of course, darling. I should have realized.”
Irene went to his side, patting him on the arm. “Don’t worry, Lord Harlowe. Lady Kimpton didn’t know children either at first.”
A stalled hush fell over the foyer, leaving Maeve with more questions than answers.
Lorelei dabbed at her eyes. “Irene is right. Come, let’s go. I do believe Lady Alymer has a driving appointment with Dorset upon our return.”
All eyes turned and focused on her. The heat in her face seemed to cheer Harlowe immensely.
Her own quickly shifted to a scowl.
The troupe walked the short distance to Grosvenor Square, Celia skipping ahead, while Irene clung firmly to a determined Nathan, forcing her to move faster than she likely considered proper for a young lady of nine.
Maeve took pity on the girl and took his hand, freeing Irene.
Brock swooped Irene off her feet, swinging her around. Her childlike squeal that filled the air was both engaging and reassuring. In most instances, the girl was definitely not a child.
Kimpton sauntered up beside Maeve. “I have a list of suitable places for you to consider. Most are nearby.”
“Truly?”
He didn’t bother responding to that.
Nathan tugged on her hand. She stopped, leaned over and looked at him. “What?”
He held out his chubby arms, and her heart squeezed.
She bent down to pick him up, but Harlowe grabbed him first. “He’s too heavy for you,” he groused.
Maeve straightened, staring at him, then blinked.
“What? I’m not about to collapse, holding a… a child.”
Kimpton cleared his throat. “Lady Alymer, the list?”
Shaking her head, she turned back to Kimpton and the strip of paper he held out.
“Oh. Yes. Thank you.” Maeve perused the list, automatically striking off the one closest to Ingleby House. Her most fervent desire was not to be in view of anyone, least of all Ingleby House. “What of this one? Hanover Square. It sounds ideal.”
