“How do you know when it’s about to get unlocked?” Oscar asked. “That’s what I was having difficulty figuring out.”
“You feel it. It’ll click and then . . .” Gwendolyn smiled as a click sounded. “There you go.” She twisted the knob and pulled the door open, revealing August and Hannah standing remarkably close together, Hannah’s hair looking ever so slightly mussed, although that might have been because she was holding Priscilla and his daughter had her arms wrapped tightly around Hannah’s neck, her eyes squeezed shut.
“You can open your eyes now, Priscilla,” Gwendolyn said, taking Priscilla from Hannah the second his daughter opened her eyes and reached her arms out to Gwendolyn.
Priscilla gave a bit of a shudder. “It was awfully dark in there, Miss Brinley. I lost the key.”
“One shouldn’t take a key into a dark closet, dear.”
“We wanted to practice locking and unlocking. Besides, I didn’t trust Oscar and Samuel. They might’ve decided to lock us in there for fun.”
“Probably a wise decision,” Gwendolyn said. “But how did you know the closet door could be locked from the inside?”
“Samuel likes to lock himself in there,” Oscar said. “One of our footmen put a new lock on that door after Samuel told him he didn’t like when the governesses were always scaring him half to death by barging into his special space with no warning.”
Walter rubbed a hand over his face, the unwelcome thought striking that he’d had no idea his son liked to lock himself in closets. “Why do you lock yourself in the closet, Samuel?” he asked.
Samuel sent him a look that almost exactly matched the looks of disdain Oscar frequently sent him. “Sometimes Priss is annoying.”
“My brothers said the same thing about my sisters,” Gwendolyn said before she tousled Samuel’s hair and then arched a brow August’s way. He was still sporting two magnificently blackened eyes, but it appeared his physician had been successful with resetting his nose since it wasn’t crooked. “I would think you’d have balked at the idea of allowing yourself to be locked in a closet with Hannah.”
August scratched his battered nose. “I’m sure this does not speak well of me, but I looked at it as an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.”
“I looked at it exactly the same way,” Hannah added, her cheeks decidedly flushed.
Gwendolyn rolled her eyes. “The two of you are going to have to consider getting married by the end of the Season. At the rate you’re going, you’re courting disaster.”
“Or true love,” August said before he took hold of Hannah’s hand and gave it a kiss.
“Yuck,” Samuel muttered before he edged up to Walter. “Want to see how Rat’s cage is coming?”
“Of course,” Walter said.
“And it’ll get us away from the lovebirds,” Oscar muttered.
“I don’t see any birds,” Priscilla said as Gwendolyn carried her to the far side of the nursery, where Walter found what looked like a sandbox on the floor, but with taller sides. Two pails of green paint waited on the floor, along with a bucket of sawdust and a bale of hay.
“They’re not real birds, Priss,” Oscar said. “It just means August and Hannah are being all lovey with each other, which means they’ll probably get married soon.”
After Gwendolyn set Priscilla down, his daughter wrinkled her nose at Walter. “Are you going to be a lovebird if you find us a new mother?”
“Ah . . .” was all Walter could think to respond to that, earning a slight twitch of the lips from Gwendolyn.
“Considering your father describes every event he’s attended of late as being merely pleasant,” Gwendolyn began, “and because of the reports you and your brothers have given me regarding the times you’ve accompanied your father when he’s out and about with the ladies, I think it’s safe to say he won’t be earning the title of lovebird any time soon.”
“The children are still giving you reports?” Walter asked.
“Our task won’t be complete until you settle on a particular lady,” Oscar said before Gwendolyn could answer. “We haven’t really been impressed by any of the ladies she’s chosen, but it’s not her fault none of the ladies want to have much to do with us. They’re far too interested in speaking with you when we go out on excursions.”
Gwendolyn blew out a breath. “That does seem to be the crux of my problem, Oscar, and it is something I need to address with your father.” She nodded toward the paint cans sitting on the floor. “While I’m doing that, you three may begin to paint Rat’s new abode.”
After getting the children settled with paintbrushes and telling Samuel he was not to paint anything but the wood of the new cage, Gwendolyn told August and Hannah, who’d finally stopped whispering together, to mind the children for a moment, adding that she’d better not find them in the closet again when she returned.
Leaving the couple looking rather sheepish, she took Walter’s arm and tugged him out of the nursery, taking a seat on an upholstered bench in the hallway and patting the spot beside her.
“I fear I’m failing spectacularly with finding you a perfect match, or even an adequate one,” she began once he got settled on the bench.
Walter’s brows drew together. “Why would you say that? You’ve set up a schedule for me that has had me escorting practically every eligible lady around Newport.”
“But you don’t seem to find any of those ladies to be anything other than nice. I wanted to find you someone special. Besides that, the reports the children have given me are less than encouraging. The ladies seem keen to fawn over them at first, but then they lose interest, spending their time in conversation with you and not bothering to speak to the children at all, or pulling you away to join crowds of Newport residents, leaving the children in the care of their governesses.”
“Should I not bring the governesses the next time I take the children to Bailey’s Beach?”
“No offense, but I’m not certain you’re up for socializing and attending to the children at the beach without the support of their governesses, even though, in my humble opinion, Miss Wendell and Miss Putman aren’t the most proficient governesses I’ve ever met. They were seriously delinquent in their duties when they traveled with you and Cordelia Lowe to that local fair.”
“I thought we survived the fair quite well. We didn’t actually lose the children at any point, although Oscar did go off with his friend, Sherman, and the twins tried to make a break for it when they caught sight of a candy-apple vendor.”
“And that candy-apple incident is why I’m now convinced, even though the children told me Cordelia was fairly attentive toward them, she might not be wonderful mother material.”
Walter frowned. “Have you ever considered you might be too finicky about the ladies and their attitudes toward the children? I would think their telling you Cordelia was attentive toward them would be a mark in her favor.”
“These are your children we’re talking about, Walter. I cannot be too finicky. They’re the ones who will suffer the most if I send you in the wrong direction, and believe me, Cordelia might be the wrong direction. She indulged the twins with three candy apples apiece.”