by Jen Turano
“Like she did when you and I went to try to speak to her the day after the ball?”
“Tried being the operative word,” he muttered.
Sam grinned. “It sure was funny when, after Miss Murdock refused to see you, we went to find her and she dove out that window to get away from you. She must’ve really not wanted to talk to you, especially since she was on the third floor of her house at the time.”
“She about gave me a heart attack.”
“Good thing that tree was right outside the window, although . . .” Sam paused and then shuddered. “I don’t think that Mr. Blackheart was too happy he had to scale up the tree and rescue Miss Murdock when she got stuck.”
No, Mr. Blackheart had definitely not been happy. He’d told Grayson in no uncertain terms that he was, from that moment forward, to leave Felicia alone, and if he didn’t, there were going to be severe consequences.
Felicia, to his annoyance, had been standing by Mr. Blackheart’s side when the man had issued that statement, her arms slightly scratched from her encounter with the tree and her expression decidedly stubborn. Instead of even bothering to give him the courtesy of any type of response, she’d stuck her nose in the air, thanked Mr. Blackheart for rescuing her, and marched back into the house without another word.
He’d contemplated going after her, but Mr. Blackheart had pulled out his pistol, and even though Grayson was fairly sure, having the advantage of the skills he’d learned in China, he’d win in a hand-to-hand fight with the man, he was no match for a bullet. Plus, he would hardly have been setting a good example for Sam if he’d allowed himself to get shot because he couldn’t abide a straightforward request.
“I bet if you told Miss Murdock you love her and long to marry her, she’d start talking to you.”
Grayson frowned. “How old are you again?”
“I’m eleven, Beatrice is nine, and Harriet is six. Ming’s three, if you’ve forgotten.”
“I know how old Ming is.”
“Just checking, Mr. Sumner.” Sam smiled. “So what do you think about my idea?”
“I’m not certain I’m quite ready to proclaim myself in love with Felicia.”
“You don’t love her?”
“I’m not sure.”
Sam tilted his head. “Do you feel all mushy inside when you’re around her?”
“I normally just feel irritated, but . . . sometimes there might be a slight feeling of mushiness.”
“Do you think she’s pretty?”
“I think she’s beautiful.”
“Does she make you laugh?”
“She does.”
Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “Then you love her, but don’t wait too long to tell her. I heard that Reverend Bannes is still in town, and I think he’s only remaining here so he can try to convince Miss Murdock to marry him.”
“Where in the world did you hear that?”
“I have my sources.”
Grayson arched a brow.
Sam blew out a breath. “I’ve spent a lot of my time down in the kitchen. A person can learn a lot down there. Servants are the best sources when it comes to what’s happening in the city.”
“Perhaps when you’re older, we should consider setting you up with Theodore Wilder. I have a feeling you’d make a fine investigator.”
“I don’t think you and I will still know each other by then, Mr. Sumner. It was kind of you to take me and my sisters into your home and all, but you and I agreed that it wasn’t forever, just until your sister can find us a real home.”
A thread of something uncomfortable settled over him. After Felicia had left the ball, he’d noticed Sam trying to make his way back to the edge of the balcony and realized the boy was about to disappear again. He couldn’t abide the thought of Sam and his sisters remaining on the street and called him back, insisting that the boy return home with him after they picked up his sisters. But Sam, apparently realizing Grayson wasn’t exactly father material, had struck a deal—one where he and his sisters would stay with Grayson only until other arrangements could be made, as long as those arrangements didn’t consist of any orphanages.
Grayson had met with Eliza the day after the ball and sought out her advice as to how he should proceed. She’d offered to begin the search for a family who’d be willing to take in three children but had told him that it would be difficult. Grayson knew it wouldn’t be fair to ask her to take the children, especially since she’d just opened up an orphanage on the outskirts of the city. If the children from that orphanage learned she’d invited other orphans to live with her, feelings would definitely get hurt.
Grayson summoned a smile when he realized Sam was watching him oddly. “How about we think of something for you and your sisters to call me besides Mr. Sumner?”
Sam frowned. “I wouldn’t feel right calling you Grayson, sir. My parents expected us to mind our manners.”
“They did,” Beatrice said, shaking her head up and down, which sent her red curls bouncing.
Harriet didn’t speak a word, but she also gave a nod, just one, but it was a small nod and didn’t make her brown curls bounce at all.
His heart gave an unexpected lurch. These children had suffered so much loss, and yet they were still concerned about their manners. He summoned up a smile. “I think you should call me Uncle Grayson.”
“But you’re not our uncle,” Beatrice said slowly. “We don’t have any uncles ’cause we’re orphans.”
“True, but I think Uncle Grayson has a nice ring to it, and I would consider it a great honor if you three would agree to call me that.”
It was clear in that moment that the three children were truly siblings. They spoke not a word but seemed to communicate with their eyes. Beatrice gave another nod, Harriet bit her lip, and Sam turned back to Grayson. “We think that would be nice, Uncle Grayson.”
“Me too,” Ming suddenly said.
“I’m your father, Ming, not your uncle.”
“Nope.”
Not particularly caring to arrive in Central Park with Ming screaming, Grayson decided against arguing that ridiculous point. She was only three, after all, and hopefully, she’d soon forget about calling him Uncle Grayson.
The carriage began to slow, and then it stopped, causing anticipation to immediately flow through him.
Felicia would be in attendance, and he was determined to speak with her. Because the park was such a public place, and because quite a few members of society would be at the celebration, given that they’d come back to the city for the ball, he doubted Felicia would make a scene and refuse to talk to him.
A footman opened the door, and he got out first, followed by Sam, who helped Beatrice out and then Harriet, then stepped aside so Grayson could get Ming.
“Want Sam.”
“Honestly, Ming, you’re being exceedingly difficult, and . . .”
“I’ll just get her, Uncle Grayson,” Sam said. “And just so you know, I don’t think a three-year-old knows what exceedingly means. In fact, I don’t know what it means.”
Hmm . . . maybe that had been part of the problem. Maybe Ming hadn’t been able to understand a lot of the things he’d said to her.
“Thank you, Sam. That’s some excellent advice.”
“You’re welcome.” Sam got Ming out of the carriage, set her on the ground and took her hand, then reached out and snagged Harriet’s hand. He nodded to Beatrice. “Are you all right not having a hand to hold?”
“She may hold mine.”
Grayson lifted his head and found Agatha, accompanied by Zayne, standing a few feet away. Agatha walked over to Beatrice and smiled. “You must be Sam’s sister, and I’m guessing you’re Beatrice.”
Beatrice’s eyes were huge. “I am Beatrice.”
“I’m Miss Agatha Watson, but you may call me Agatha. And you”—she looked at Harriet—“are Harriet.”
Harriet nodded, her eyes huge but her expression solemn.
“She’s a little shy, Miss Wa
tson.”
Agatha looked at Sam. “You’re Sam. I’ve heard a lot about you from Felicia.”
Grayson’s ears perked up. “You’ve spoken with Felicia?”
“Of course. She’s not put out with me.”
“What has she said?”
Agatha gave a sniff. “I’m not divulging secrets, Grayson. You’ll have to ask her what she’s been saying.”
“She’s avoiding me.”
“Of course she is, and I can’t say that I blame her. You made an utter mess of things the night of the ball.”
Zayne stepped forward and grinned. “That’s why we hurried up to meet you when we saw you get out of the carriage. Agatha and I are going to help you set matters to rights.” His grin widened. “We’re well equipped to offer you some steadfast advice on how to go about winning Felicia back.”
Oddly enough, he found himself interested in hearing what Agatha and Zayne had to say, even though they were completely ill equipped to give out relationship advice.
It was a clear mark of how desperate he’d become.
“If the two of you can figure out how to get her to talk to me, I’d be most appreciative.”
Agatha shifted a basket Grayson just then noticed she was holding from one hand to another. Then she turned to Zayne and thrust it at him. “Here, make yourself useful. It’s getting heavy.” She rubbed her hands together. “Now, where were we?”
“Felicia . . . talking to me . . . your advice.”
“Ah, yes, exactly right. Well, we’ll have to arrange it so that the two of you can have some time alone, but . . . that might be difficult since you now have so many children to look after.”
Grayson gestured toward a phaeton just pulling up that was driven by one of his coachmen and filled with three of his nannies. They appeared to be a little squished.
“Three nannies?” Zayne asked somewhat weakly. “Isn’t that a bit much?”
“Ming’s tricky,” Grayson admitted. “And not only do I have an abundance of nannies, I have a good many guards as well. But they’ll be more difficult to pick out, considering they’re paid to be stealthy.”
“You’re still in danger?” Agatha asked.
“Perhaps, but I don’t really care to discuss that today, especially not in front of . . .” He glanced to the children, all of whom were watching the interaction closely—except for Ming, who was squatting down, poking at what looked to be an anthill. He moved over to her, scooped her up into his arms, and to his surprise, instead of screaming, she sent him a beautiful smile.
He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever understand anyone under the age of five.
“I’m surprised you had your nannies driven here in your phaeton, knowing Felicia will be here,” Agatha said, stepping forward to take Beatrice’s hand, the little girl looking completely delighted by the action. “I wouldn’t put it past her to agree to talk to you, but only if you’ll let her drive your phaeton again.”
That thought had crossed his mind, and quite honestly, he’d decided he would brave another ride with Felicia at the reins if that was what it took to get her to speak with him.
“She’s not that bad of a driver,” he muttered.
“She is, and you know it, but hopefully we can come up with something else that will get her talking to you again.”
Agatha looked at Sam and his sisters and then frowned. “Just don’t make a point of bringing up that you’ve taken three more children into your home. Felicia knows about your generous act, of course, but if you bring it into the conversation, she might think it was done to impress her, and that won’t earn you any points.”
“I didn’t bring Sam and his sisters into my home to impress Felicia.”
“I know that, but Felicia’s in a sensitive frame of mind right now, and you did blunder rather badly when you asked her to marry you, if one can even consider what you did a proposal. You’ll need to tread lightly with her.” With that, Agatha began walking toward an area bedecked with flags and ribbons where a large crowd had begun to assemble.
Grayson looked over his shoulder and nodded to the nannies, who began walking behind them. He’d told them he wasn’t planning for them to take over the care of all the children today, wanting to try his best to spend as much of his time as possible with them, but he wasn’t delusional. He knew perfectly well he had limits, thus the reasoning behind bringing in professionals in case he found himself in over his head.
Zayne fell into step beside him as Sam, holding Harriet’s hand, walked a few feet in front of them, chatting happily to his little sister and pointing out things of interest.
“It was a good thing you did for them,” Zayne said softly, nodding his head toward the children.
“I keep getting this unusual urge to keep them myself, but I know they need a proper family, and I can’t provide that.”
“You could if you married Felicia.”
“Shh . . . Don’t say that out loud. Honestly, Zayne, if Felicia hears even a snippet of something that suggests I’m only interested in her so I’ll be able to keep Sam and his sisters, well, she really will never speak to me again.”
“Hurry up,” Agatha called over her shoulder.
“It would be easier to hurry if this basket of yours wasn’t quite so heavy,” Zayne called back.
Agatha stopped walking, and she and Beatrice waited for them to catch up. “I wanted to pack an extraordinary lunch this year. That way I’ll be certain to get bids.”
“You know I promised you I would bid on it,” Zayne muttered.
“True, you did, but since the proceeds for this basket auction go completely to the church, I thought I should make my lunch as appealing as possible so that it drives up the bids.”
Grayson frowned. “A basket auction? What is that exactly?”
“Oh, I do beg your pardon, Grayson,” Agatha said. “Even with that accent of yours, I sometimes forget you’re a foreigner. It’s a tradition, mostly in small towns, that on the Fourth of July, ladies prepare a picnic lunch, and then gentlemen bid on the baskets, and the gentleman with the highest bid gets to eat the lunch and spend that lunch with the lady who prepared the basket.”
She smiled. “Felicia organized the first auction a few years ago for those of us who stay in town over the Fourth of July. Some families were finding it more difficult to spend time at their summer homes, and she remembered how fun it had been when she went to the auctions in Newport as a child.”
Grayson felt a thread of irritation run through him. “She stayed in the city because of Reverend Fraser, didn’t she?”
“I do believe that was the case, but Felicia started a wonderful tradition here, and I’m so thankful she did.” Agatha sent Zayne a rather smug smile. “I’m interested to learn how much money you’ll have to turn over in order to secure the winning bid.”
“You never said I had to secure the winning bid,” Zayne said slowly. “You only said I had to bid so that your basket wouldn’t be sitting there forlorn and unnoticed.”
Agatha stuck her nose in the air. “Fine, don’t make the winning bid. I mean, you are leaving in the next day or so, and we’ll probably never see each other again, but apparently you’re not going to miss my friendship.”
“Fine, I’ll win the basket.”
“Lovely,” Agatha said before she turned to Grayson. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before, but all you have to do to get Felicia to speak to you is make the highest bid on her basket.”
Zayne shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Grayson ignored him. “Felicia couldn’t avoid me through an entire meal.”
“Exactly, which is why I hope you brought a large sum of money with you,” Agatha said with a grin. “I’ve seen Felicia today, and she’s looking absolutely darling in a gorgeous gown of purple that brings out the color of her eyes. I’m afraid she’s attracted quite a bit of attention from the gentlemen who arrived early for the festivities. You’ll need to be diligent with
your bidding in order to win the day.”
“Piper, Ben.” Ming squealed and began to squirm in his arms.
He watched Piper and Ben walking toward them in the company of Eliza and Hamilton and had no choice but to set Ming down, afraid he would otherwise drop her or suffer another one of her bites. “Behave yourself,” he said before he let go of her, and she flew on tiny legs over to Piper and gave her an enthusiastic hug before she did the same with Ben.
Perhaps she would actually behave herself. Maybe his refusal to allow her to spend time with her cousins this past week had finally gotten through to her, which might, hopefully, cause a change in her behavior.
Agatha tugged Beatrice over to Piper and Ben and introduced them to one another, then gestured for Sam and Harriet to join them. Piper looked absolutely delighted to have new friends, and with barely a nod to him, she took Ming by one hand, Harriet by the other, and with Sam, Ben, and Beatrice taking up positions beside her, she called over her shoulder that they were off to find some treats, and away they went.
Grayson took a step forward. “I should go with them.”
Eliza put a hand on his arm. “They’re fine, Gray. Children like to be by themselves sometimes. Besides”—she gestured with her head—“Gloria and Cora have already joined them, and you know those ladies love nothing more than having children to spoil. You really shouldn’t ruin their fun, and your nannies are also keeping an eye on them from a distance.”
Grayson turned his head, and sure enough, Ming’s nannies were standing a few feet away from where the children were chatting with Gloria and Cora, who’d somehow managed to get cookies into everyone’s hands and appeared thrilled they had so many little faces turned their way. He looked to the right and found, much to his relief, some somber-looking gentlemen watching the children, their somberness giving testimony that the guards hired to protect the children were taking their assignment seriously. He turned back to Eliza.
“Any luck finding a family for Sam and his sisters?”
“Not yet. There aren’t many families who are willing to open their homes to three children, but we’ll find someone.” She smiled. “Are you finding it’s a little difficult to care for four children?”