But Mr. Byrnes merely laughed and shook his head at that. “They responded well to the sweets, so I kept giving them more. I see now that was a terrible idea. Helen kept warning me, and I ought to have listened.”
“She is rather like a mother hen with her siblings.”
With a vague nod and smile, Mr. Byrnes lapsed into silence, his eyes narrowing as though he was puzzling through a particularly difficult riddle.
“I’ve noticed she has quite the collection of shells in her bedchamber,” he said.
Judith nodded. “She is enamored with them and has been for some time.”
Some of the weight that had been baring the gentleman down seemed to ease, and he straightened with a brightness of hope gleaming in his eye. “Might Helen enjoy a seaside picnic instead?”
Judith’s eyes widened. “I could think of nothing better.”
Mr. Byrnes grinned at her, and Judith wished she had a better handle on her heart, for it decided to flip and flutter about at the sight of it. Such things were best ignored, and so she threw herself instead into the details as the pair planned out their next excursion.
Chapter 10
Hypotheticals were tricky things. When considering possibilities, it was easy to inflate the problem or one’s ability to manage the situation, and it required a keen intellect with far more self-awareness than most possess. Silas ought to have recalled that fact before latching on to his brilliant plan for a seashore picnic in the spring. Not that he was wholly incapable of making a wise decision, but with his heart too invested in a good outcome, Silas was more apt to great exaggeration when it came to evaluating the hypotheticals surrounding this outing.
Hatch’s ability to see things so clearly was one of the many reasons Silas had wanted the young man as his business partner, even though Hatch had little more than himself to invest in the venture; the skill of forecasting prospects was well worth having. If not for Hatch’s lack of social grace and off-putting demeanor, the young man would be a titan of industry with or without Silas’s inheritance to fund his efforts, which was why he felt their partnership was destined for great success: Hatch had the strategic mind, and Silas had the charisma to handle investors, magistrates, and employees. Together they would go far.
Of course, Miss Delmonte was proving quite the dab hand at such things, and she hadn’t objected to the picnic scheme. Though Silas couldn’t say if that was entirely true, for she was too often silent when she ought to speak out.
Silas examined the clouds above and hoped the weather would hold. It was too early in the season for picnics, but the temperature had been warmer of late. Miss Delmonte had packed extra clothes and blankets for when the children got wet (which she’d assured him was inevitable), and between the pair of them, Silas was fairly confident they’d planned for every eventuality.
A wise man would’ve waited for summer, but as much as Silas claimed he could attempt patience while winning his children’s affections, his supply of that virtue was limited. A seaside picnic was what Helen loved most, and Silas would give it to her.
“Where are we going?” asked Griffith. The boy wiggled in his seat, unable to sit still for more than a heartbeat. He climbed up on the seat and leaned towards the window, pressing his nose against it. Silas snatched him down before he fell and sat him back on the seat.
“It is a surprise.” Silas wondered how many times the boy would ask that question before they accepted that neither he nor Miss Delmonte would tell them the answer.
Helen cuddled next to Miss Delmonte, her eyes fixed firmly on the window and not her papa, though Silas sensed her attention was on the conversation. Leah bounced on the lady’s lap, simply happy to be out and about. But Griffith would not be put off so easily.
“Are we going to the ocean?” he asked.
Silas gave his son a raised brow and a teasing smile. “What makes you think that?”
Griffith poked at the window. “I can see it there.”
“We live near it, so it shouldn’t be a surprise to see it,” Silas countered.
“But it’s closer,” he insisted, tapping the pane of glass.
Leah added a rapid string of thoughts on the subject, her syllables blending into a string of sounds that were words though not wholly discernable to Silas, except that it was about her love of the water. And then she finished a definitive, “But it’s cold.”
“Very cold,” said Silas before turning his gaze to Griffith again. “Would you like to go to the ocean?”
“I like to splash in the water,” added Leah.
“I like to throw rocks into the water, and there are lots of good rocks at the shore,” said Griffith.
“Those are very fun activities,” said Silas, his gaze darting between the pair. His smile grew as they chattered on about the ocean. Leah spoke nearly as often as her brother, though Silas could not always grasp her words; he was simply pleased to see them both so animated. Of course, he wished he inspired such excitement on his own without the need of Miss Delmonte and the outing, but he wasn’t about to turn away their excitement.
“It’s getting closer,” said Griffith as they topped one hill. “We are going to the ocean.”
“That we are,” said Silas, as there was little reason to cling to the secret when the lad was so firmly set on the answer, and he tugged his son back to his seat when Griffith moved to stand on the seat once more. “I thought we might have a picnic today.”
Leah squealed, rocking on Miss Delmonte’s lap as though trying to get to their destination all the faster and clapping her hands, while Griffith tried to stand on the seat again. Miss Delmonte turned to Helen and gave her a broad smile, whispering something to the girl, and Helen’s eyes lit as she grinned at the governess in return, though her expression shuttered when she spied Silas watching.
