“WHERE ARE they all?” Ford lifted the decanter of wine. “Kendra and Amy I can credit—girls always take forever to ready themselves. But Colin—”
Jason wrested the wine from Ford and, with a meaningful look, refilled his youngest brother’s goblet only halfway. “Speaking of Colin, I think Kendra is scheming to match him with Amethyst Goldsmith.”
“Huh?” Ford shook his head. “Whyever would Kendra do that?”
“I’m sure I don’t know. Mrs. Goldsmith has no fortune to offer. It’s debatable whether a well-to-do merchant could meet Greystone’s financial needs, and now that her family’s shop has burned to the ground, the question is moot.”
Ford sipped. “She’s quite pretty, though.”
“What on earth has that got to do with it?” Jason lifted his goblet. “I know Priscilla doesn’t top Kendra’s list of favorite people, but for her to push this match—” He stopped and took a quick swallow of wine. “Colin, there you are.”
Colin narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What were you two speaking of?”
Ford jumped in. “We were just wondering if you’d managed to match up all the children with their families in London?”
“Yes—and no.” Colin took his seat. “It seems the littlest one, Mary, is an orphan. Her parents both died in the plague. Neighbors had taken her in, but now that they’re homeless…” He shrugged. “I brought her back with me.”
Jason nearly spilled his wine. “You cannot be planning to keep her?”
“Priscilla would never put up with it,” Ford put in.
Colin flashed him a scathing glance. “No, I’m not planning to keep her.” He turned to Jason. “I was hoping you could find her a home in the village.”
“I expect I can.” Jason’s hand came up and smoothed his mustache, his eyes thoughtful. “But couldn’t you have left her at a foundling home in London?”
“I could have, I suppose.” Colin reached for the decanter. “The authorities are handling such problems. But I hadn’t the heart to leave her in such chaos. Moorfields is a sad scene. The grass is littered with rescued belongings that people are wary of relinquishing, covered in ashes—”
When Kendra and Amy walked in, Colin paused midsentence and stared.
Jason cleared his throat and kicked his brother beneath the table. “Colin?”
“Um, yes.” Colin’s hand dropped, and the wine decanter thudded to the mahogany surface. He blinked and came back to life. “Good evening, Amy.”
“Good evening,” Amy murmured, not quite looking at him.
“Won’t you sit down?” Jason waved his hand, and a servant began ladling soup while two others pulled out ladder-backed chairs on either side of the rectangular table, at the end where the Chase brothers had seated themselves.
Kendra craftily slipped into the chair beside her twin, leaving Amy no choice but to sit next to Colin. As she seated herself, Colin smiled and offered her wine.
In the guise of reaching for a piece of cake, Kendra leaned close to Jason. “Look at the two of them together,” she whispered in his ear. “You’d have to be addlepated not to notice.”
“I heard that!” Colin’s face was aflame, his eyes trained down, avoiding Amy’s.
Amy just looked confused.
“Colin was just telling us about returning the children to their families,” Ford said a little too brightly. “It sounds a mess out there.”
“It’s getting organized somewhat,” Colin told his soup. “Charles has arranged for public buildings to store the goods of the homeless, and provided army tents and bread, all without charge. It was impossible to get about to find anyone, but they’ve set up a missing persons area. I waited there until all the children were claimed—all except Mary, that is.”
A frown appeared between Kendra’s brows. “The curly-haired girl with the never-ending questions?”
He nodded. “I brought her back with me. If I had a shilling for every question she asked on the way here, I’d be able to restore Greystone tomorrow.”
Kendra smiled. “And our town house?” She spooned up a bite of cake; Kendra always ate dessert first, in case she might not have room for it later.
“The town house is safe—Lincoln’s Inn Fields was never in danger. The fire stopped short of Chancery Lane and Essex House. But the burned parts smolder so hotly, no man would venture in. The first rain started this afternoon, though—I reckon that will help.”
“It rained but a few minutes.” Kendra glanced out the diamond-paned windows. “I shouldn’t think it would help much.”
“Perchance it rained more in London.” Colin shrugged. “Though with all the homeless, I suppose we should hope not…”
He was having trouble concentrating with Amy seated beside him. A rose scent drifted over from her direction. Having left her weak and stricken and sleep-shrouded, he’d been astonished when the old Amy entered the dining room.
Well, not quite the old Amy. Not precisely. This Amy was more subdued and sort of Kendra-ized, wearing a dress he recognized as Kendra’s, with her hair coaxed into long, Kendra-like ringlets.
And she wore not a speck of jewelry. That separated her most from the old Amy. That, and her reserve. She seemed to be eating in a trance-like state.
But he felt the same something between them nonetheless.
“And Charles?” asked Ford.
If Colin could inch his chair to the right…
No, too obvious.
If he moved his knee beneath the table…
Ford banged down his goblet impatiently. “Colin? How is the king holding up?”
Jason kicked Colin again.
“Ouch!” Colin blinked. What had Ford been asking about? “Oh, Charles. Heavens, he’s in his glory. He hadn’t much time to chat, though.”
He rubbed his ankle, thinking he’d deserved the kick. What was it about this girl that made him forget anyone else existed? Why could he think of nothing but touching her?
He was worse than flustered. He was…sappy!
Thank heavens he was leaving for Greystone in the morning.
Before he turned into a complete dolt.