Madelyn gave them the once over. “How nice to see you both up, dressed, and raring to go.”
Oh no!
Libby glanced at her outfit—the same outfit she’d worn yesterday. The outfit seen around the world and in outer space.
Maybe the matchmaker didn’t notice.
Madelyn drank her in for a beat as the whisper of a grin pulled at the corners of the woman’s lips.
Nope, she noticed.
“Let me make the introductions,” Madelyn said, glancing around the room. “Libby Lamb, this is Finola Cress and her great-grandson, Sebastian.”
“So, you’re Libby Lamb.” Granny Fin eyed her closely. With her salt-and-pepper hair piled into a bun, the woman couldn’t be much more than five feet tall, but in the intimidation department, she’d easily hit Raz’s height. The woman shared the same curious gray eyes as her grandson. And like Raz, she could dole out her fair share of intensity. “You’re the spiritual advisor and the nanny?”
Was that an accusation or a question? She couldn’t tell. And more than that—had Finola seen the viral video, or had Madelyn simply shared the whole spiritual advisor part?
“Miss Lamb?” Finola pressed like a seasoned interrogator.
“Yes, I’m both the nanny and the spiritual advisor,” she stammered.
“Madelyn tells me you’re good with children.”
The woman didn’t let up.
Libby tightened her hold on the wrap. “I’ve taught yoga to school-age kids. My degree is in elementary physical education, and I helped care for my younger brothers growing up.”
Finola Cress narrowed her gaze. “This yoga business.”
“Yes,” Libby eked out.
The woman’s iron demeanor dissolved. “Any suggestions for a cranky neck?”
Libby held back a king-sized sigh of relief.
“Yes, actually, there are quite a few exercises for cervicalgia,” she blurted, happy to change the subject.
“Cer-vic-what?” the woman repeated.
“Cervicalgia. It’s the medical term for neck pain. Here, watch me and do what I do. Roll your head over to your right shoulder, then allow it to fall forward. Now, over to your left shoulder. Inhale at your shoulder and exhale as you roll.”
Granny Fin did a few more rolls. “Hmm,” she hummed, a skeptical huff of a sound. “There’s some relief. I’ll admit that,” the woman answered, then crossed her arms and turned to the matchmaker. “Are you sure about this arrangement, Madelyn?”
This couldn’t be good.
“I am. Libby is the right match for Sebastian and Erasmus, Finola,” Madelyn purred.
“We shall see,” Granny Fin answered with a scowl. This woman was one tough cookie. And hopefully, one tough cookie who hadn’t seen the viral video. She couldn’t imagine that piece of internet infamy going over well with the ball-busting woman.
“It’s good to see you, Granny. But what are you doing here? I didn’t expect you until tomorrow,” Raz said and pressed a kiss to the woman’s cheek.
“Change of plans, dear. Didn’t you get my email? It took me bloody forever to figure out how to send it. You know technology is no friend of mine. I even mentioned it to Callista and Calliope. Did they not tell you either? It was our friend Madelyn’s idea. She suggested we leave a day early.”
“Did she?” Raz asked, eyeing Madelyn.
The matchmaker smoothed her trademark red scarf. “Of course. With the arrangements made, I saw no need to delay. And Sebastian tells me he’s quite excited to explore Rickety Rock, Colorado. Not to mention, Finola and I have plans here in Denver. I promised her I’d show her all the city has to offer, and we’ve got a few philanthropic pursuits to investigate.”
Philanthropic pursuits?
“For the foundation?” Raz asked his granny, and she would have sworn there was a shake to his voice.
“Someone’s got to keep an eye on it.”
What was up with this foundation?
He crossed his arms, hardening his exterior. “So, you’re not coming with us to the mountains, Gran?”
“I’ll be along when I’ve taken care of things here. And there surely seems to be enough room in this house for six, possibly seven families. Who do you think you are, living in a place like this? A bloody duke? It must cost a fortune.”
Raz released a weary breath. “Granny, we can afford it.”
“But do you need it?”
“You’ll be happy to hear that there’s a one-story cottage on the property, Finola,” Madelyn supplied. “I made sure it had everything you needed to be comfortable. It’ll be perfect for you.”
“That will suit me better,” the woman replied, then patted Sebastian’s shoulder. “Now, be a good lad, dear, and say hello to your father and your nanny.”
“Dad, check out my jab-cross,” the boy chimed in a refined British accent that sounded slightly different from Raz’s and Granny Fin’s rolling speech.
The child’s expression grew laser-focused as he bounced on his toes and started swinging. She’d didn’t know the first thing about boxing, but the kid’s movements were sharp and precise. There was power behind those tiny fists and an unyielding balance in his stance. She could sense his centered energy. It radiated from his body, which was quite something for a boy of his age. She stole a glance at Raz, expecting him to be pleased. He wasn’t—not even close. His expression hardened, and a muscle ticked in his jaw.
“I send you to that fancy school, and the first thing you have to say is, check out my jab-cross?” the man muttered.
The boy dropped his arms and slumped. “Did I do the punches right?”
“That’s beside the point, Sebastian. You shouldn’t be filling your head with boxing.”
Hello, negative energy vortex. The intensity between these two could take out the city. She had to intervene before it got worse.
“Hello, Sebastian, those moves looked pretty great to me,” she said, coming between the father-son standoff, but the child didn’t respond.
“Manners, Sebastian,” Granny Fin said under her breath.
The boy nodded to his great-grandmother, then lifted his chin. “Thank you. It’s very nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m Sebastian Arcadia Cress. I’m six and three-quarters years old.”
With ash brown hair and strong features, there was no doubt this was Erasmus Cress’s son, but upon a closer look, she noticed the child didn’t have gray eyes like his father and great-grandmother. No, his eyes matched the aquamarine stone Ida had given her.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Sebastian Arcadia Cress. I’m excited to be your nanny.”
At her admission, the boy’s focus dropped to the floor.
Was he nervous about having another caregiver, or was it something else? Anders had been shy, too, when he was younger. Sometimes, all it took was a question or an observation to get him to come out of his shell.
She tapped her chin. “If you’re six and three quarters, that means you’ve got a birthday coming up.”
The boy brightened. “It’s more like six and eleven-twelfths. That’s a fraction with the eleven on top and the twelve on the bottom.”