children?” I repeated, becoming exasperated at his nit-picking.
“I hope your mother has them put away safely. I told her when I let her use this house, I wanted nothing changed. Those items are antiques.”
My mind flew to the antique stairs, fast on their way to joining us in the nineteenth century, but it was only a fleeting thought, a rush of relief that he had not noticed them.
“Will you answer me?” I asked, my voice rising with vexation. “Have you seen the children?”
He gave one last frown at the new fire irons before honoring me with a direct look. I was struck, as I always was upon a close view of him, at how cold his eyes were. Brown eyes are usually friendly—not Menrod’s. The thinly arched brows had something to do with it; they gave him a disdainful expression, which his thin lips did not lessen. He brought the frost into the room with him.
He lifted an elegant hand to indicate I was to be seated, before more discussion. I flounced to the closest chair and plumped down, undaintily. He strolled to the sofa and lowered himself as carefully and gracefully as any lady. Then he threw one leg over the other, admired his faun trousers a moment, and finally answered.
“Of course I have seen them. That is why I am here—to tell you I have brought them home to Menrod Manor. I thought you would like to know they are safely home. You are welcome to come up and see them sometime, if you like. Or I will be happy to bring them to you for a visit, if you prefer. I will be home for a few days.”
My excitement to learn they had arrived safely all the way from India robbed me of the greater part of my perceptive faculties. I read nothing forbidding in the latter part of his speech. “Oh, I am so glad, so relieved. Did you meet their boat at London?”
“Certainly not. I am much too busy. I left word at the shipping office to be notified as soon as the ship was sighted. My man went to the dock to bring them to my London residence. They are both in good health, have withstood the journey well, and appear to be recovering from the loss of their parents. I thought you would be happy to hear it.”
“I am delighted. I wish you had brought them down with you. You cannot imagine how anxious I am to meet them.”
“Are you indeed?” he asked, a mobile brow rising. “I imagined that, like myself, you would view their arrival as more of a nuisance than anything else. I would have brought them down yesterday, had I realized your eagerness to see them.”
“Yesterday? You mean they have been at the Manor for a whole day, and you are only now letting us know?”
“Yes, we would have been here sooner, but I took a few days off to show them the sights of London before bringing them home.”
“Well, upon my word! You might have let us know what was going on. Here I have sent poor Mr. Everett all the way to London on a fool’s errand, to meet them in case you were not aware of their coming.”
“How should I not be aware? I have known for six months of their coming. It was arranged through a friend of mine who went out to India to work for the EIC. He chose a reliable gentleman to bring them home. A Mr. Enberg.”
“I had a letter from Mr. Enberg.”
“How extremely thoughtful of him. I liked him amazingly.”
“It would have saved a deal of worry and bother if you had let us know what was afoot. Your stepmother had no idea where you were, or whether you had received Mr. Enberg’s letter.”
“I am sorry if you were inconvenienced. I did not realize you were so interested in my niece and nephew’s itinerary, or I would have informed you,” he said, in a lofty way he has, that might be only his innate arrogance coming through, or might be sarcastic.
“The children are also my niece and nephew,” I pointed out. “Naturally I am interested in my own sister’s children. What are they like?”
“Tolerably handsome. Ralph resembles his father, while Gwendolyn favors your family. Other than being a