She frowned, or at least Everett thought that was what she was doing. It was a little difficult to tell considering the paste on her face had begun to dry, limiting her movements. “I didn’t think about the basin falling off the door, which was a very silly thing for me not to think about because it smashed down on Miss Longfellow’s head, and . . . I thought I’d killed her.”
“Rose and I got scared when we thought Miss Longfellow was dead, and that’s why we ran away,” Thaddeus added, sending Everett one of the most pathetic looks he’d ever seen, the look accentuated when a glob of paste dripped from his chin. “That was very bad of us.”
“And I didn’t want Miss Longfellow to be dead,” Rosetta chimed in. “She tried to save me from the peacocks.”
“You ran into trouble with the peacocks?” Everett asked.
“No, but Miss Longfellow didn’t know that, and she came running to get me . . . and she got a lot of pecks from the peacocks. But you can’t let her go, you just can’t, because she calls me . . . Rose.”
Everett leaned over and caught Rosetta’s eye. “You like Rose over Rosetta?”
“I do, but Thaddeus doesn’t like being called Thad, only Thaddeus, even though it’s a huge mouthful to say all the time. He’d like to be called Chip, but don’t start calling him that, because Elizabeth will just get mad again.”
Amusement immediately shot through Everett, until it was quickly replaced with guilt when the reality of what Rose had admitted sunk in. He’d been responsible for the children for months now, but not once had he even thought about asking them what names they preferred to be called. Millie had discovered that important information in the span of a few days, which . . .
“So you really can’t dismiss her, Uncle Everett,” Elizabeth said, interrupting his thoughts. “If anyone needs to be punished, it should be me, and
only
me.”
Millie was suddenly in motion, and she didn’t stop until she reached Elizabeth’s side. “While I find it rather dear that you’d want to take the blame, Elizabeth, I want it known here and now that none of this is anyone’s fault but mine.”
“I started it,” Elizabeth argued.
“Of course you did, darling, but you see, I threw down the gauntlet by winning the game of walking the plank, and then winning the delightful business of tying all of you up. I knew full well that you weren’t done trying to get rid of me, and I should have known you’d do the old bucket of water over a door sometime soon.” She smiled and rubbed her head. “If I’d been more diligent in my duties as a nanny, I’d have shown
you the proper way to go about this particular prank—speaking of which, if you’ll look at that door, you’ll see a wonderful example of how it’s supposed to be done. A short length of rope, a nail and a hook in the ceiling, and there you have it, a marvelous way of making sure this prank goes off effortlessly while not leaving the victim senseless.”
She let out a sigh. “In hindsight, though, I might have overdone it by adding that flour, which means before I depart for Abigail’s cottage I need to tidy up this room.”
“If you’re moving out, I’m moving with you,” Thaddeus said, slipping up beside Millie and taking hold of her hand.
Elizabeth was the next to move. She reached out and put her arm around Millie’s middle, leaning in to rest her head against Millie’s side. “I’m coming too,” she said as she snuggled closer right as Millie smiled and placed a quick kiss on top of Elizabeth’s paste-covered head.
Everett’s heart immediately took to the unusual act of lurching, no doubt due to the sight of Millie’s understated affection. Ladies of society always made a big production out of kissing their children when company was present, but Millie . . . Her kiss had been the real thing, a show of regard for a child who’d caused her no small amount of trouble.
Expecting Rose to throw her support in next and proclaim she was moving out as well if Millie got dismissed, Everett looked around the room and finally spotting her moving up to the glass door, staring at peacocks that were bobbing this way and that, as if they were trying to figure out how to get into the room.
“Rose, no,” he called when he saw her reach for the doorknob, but it was too late.
Complete and utter mayhem took over as the birds flocked inside, scattering and stirring up all the flour that had settled to the floor. His staff soon flooded into the room, their presence
adding another layer of chaos to the situation as they tried to corral the peacocks. Rose was shrieking at the top of her lungs as the peacocks ran around her, but then Millie scooped the little girl up and bolted out the door that led outside. To Everett’s horror, all the peacocks bolted right after her.
Rushing through that same door only a few seconds later, he stumbled to a stop when a small hand grabbed onto his and gave it a tug. Turning, he looked down and found Elizabeth standing next to him, the same Elizabeth who had never once in the time he’d taken responsibility for her and her siblings, touched him.
“Just wait” was all she said before she smiled.
Forcing his attention away from Elizabeth, even though he found the sight of her smiling completely endearing, he looked to where Millie had come to a stop, his breath hitching in his throat when the peacocks began surrounding her.
“Trust me,” Elizabeth said.
Not taking his eyes off Millie, who was still holding Rose, he itched to move forward, especially when Millie whispered something in Rose’s ear and then, to his complete dismay, lowered the little girl to the ground.
“Is she mad?” he asked.
“She dumped water, along with flour, over the heads of three innocent children, Uncle Everett,” Elizabeth said with a snort. “Of course she’s mad, but . . . she’s somewhat brilliant as well because nobody else was able to best us at our own games.”
“And she’s very nice, Uncle Everett,” Thaddeus added as he joined them. “Even if she told me I couldn’t try riding a peacock.”
“Peacocks aren’t exactly pets, Thaddeus.”
“Tell that to the peacocks,” Elizabeth said with a grin when a peacock moved right up to Rose and nuzzled her with its beak.
Everett returned the grin, but then felt his grin fade when Thaddeus moved closer to him and blinked big eyes his way.
“Since Rose has some pets now, do you think I might be able to get just one . . . like a dog?”
“You want a dog?” Everett repeated.
Nodding, Thaddeus began scratching at the paste that covered his arm. “It wouldn’t cause you any trouble, Uncle Everett. I would take care of it, but . . . I would want it to be a boy dog.” He started scratching his other arm. “I’m always around girls these days.”
It was telling, that statement, and Everett realized in that moment, as the sun beat on his head and the sound of peacocks cooing instead of screeching filled the air, that he’d been horribly negligent when it came to Thaddeus, as well as Elizabeth and Rose. “I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of getting a dog,” he said before he could stop himself.
Thaddeus’s eyes began to sparkle. “We could name him Chip, because that’s what I was going to name the dog my daddy said he was going to get for me someday.” The sparkle immediately faded from the little boy’s eyes. “Someday never came because Daddy went away.”
Not allowing himself a moment to consider his actions, Everett leaned over and scooped Thaddeus into his arms, ignoring that the little boy stiffened the second Everett touched him. To Everett’s relief, the stiffening disappeared a second later, right before Thaddeus snaked an arm around Everett’s neck and leaned his little body into Everett’s.
“Does this mean you’re getting me a dog?” Thaddeus whispered.
“I do believe it might mean exactly that, but . . . before we speak about it further, I think it might be a good idea if we set about the business of getting you and your sisters cleaned up. You’re only going to get itchier as that flour dries.”
“So I have to take a . . . bath?” Thaddeus asked rather glumly.
“I think there might be another option, one you might find a little more amusing.”
Everett turned and nodded to Elizabeth. “I’ll race you over to the fountain.” Giving her a head start, he finally took off after her, jostling Thaddeus around in his arms, which succeeded in having a loud burst of giggling erupt from the little boy every other second. Running behind Elizabeth, while being careful to never pass her, Everett heard her giggling as well. The sound warmed his heart.
Before he knew it, he’d reached his destination, and without bothering to kick off his shoes, he jumped into the large stone fountain that was situated halfway between the house and the cliffs that led to the sea. Splashing his way through the water, he reached the waterfall that had been built in the very middle of the fountain and stuck Thaddeus right into it.
Shrieking with clear delight, Thaddeus began to wiggle, the paste that still covered him making him remarkably slippery. Afraid of dropping him, Everett set him down and then straightened, discovering that while he’d been busy with Thaddeus, Elizabeth had joined them in the fountain.
Without so much as a by-your-leave, she sent water flying his way. And when Rose suddenly appeared in the fountain as well, he found himself splashed from all sides as the children went about the business of being children. Stumbling his way to the side of the fountain, he was just about to announce his surrender when a wave of water smacked him in the face, leaving him sputtering. When he finally caught his breath and pushed his hair out of his eyes, he found Millie grinning back at him, even as she scooped more water up into a bucket she’d somehow managed to procure.
War was immediate, and one he knew he couldn’t win. The
children continued splashing him as Millie threw bucketful after bucketful of water his way. When Millie slipped and fell, he saw an opportunity he couldn’t resist. Grabbing the bucket, which was floating beside her, he scooped up water and aimed it at Thaddeus, who’d abandoned his purple frock and was splashing around in nothing but his drawers. Drawing the bucket back, he let the water fly, but Thaddeus ducked out of the way—which had the water winging out of the fountain to land directly on . . . his mother.
Even the peacocks that had been screeching just as loudly as the children had been shrieking seemed to realize the gravity of the situation. They stopped screeching, the children stopped shrieking, but Millie pushed soggy curls out of her eyes and simply smiled at his mother.
“You’re more than welcome to join us, Mrs. Mulberry, now that you’re all wet.”
For the briefest of seconds, Everett thought he caught a glimpse of longing in his mother’s eyes, but then she lifted her chin. “It would hardly be proper for me to frolic in a fountain, Miss Longfellow, nor is it proper for you to be in there, either.” She lifted her chin another notch as she glanced his way. “You’ve ruined my hat as well as soaked me to the skin.”
With amusement tickling his throat, he looked his mother up and down. “I’ll buy you a new hat, Mother, but all I can suggest about you being soaked to the skin is to perhaps recommend you either search out a towel or, as Millie suggested, join us. It’s rather fun to frolic about in a fountain, even if society wouldn’t approve.”
Dorothy cast another glance at the fountain, this one more longingly than the previous one, before she began wringing water out of her skirt. “Your father and I recently had the privilege of viewing pools over in England that were built specifically
for the purpose of swimming.” She looked up from her skirt. “Since the children seem to be so fond of the water, but society does look askance at the idea of splashing around in something so common as a fountain, perhaps you should look into the feasibility of having your very own pool built here.” Everett could do nothing but stand in wide-eyed surprise as she said, “I would imagine if you were one of the first to build a personal pool, why, society would soon find them all the fashion.”
“That would probably be a more realistic goal than trying to convince society peacocks are soon to be all the rage,” he heard Millie mumble.
Pretending he hadn’t heard her because he really wasn’t up to explaining the reasoning behind the peacocks to his mother at that particular moment, Everett smiled at Dorothy. “While the idea of a personal pool is incredibly enticing, it might be easier all around if I were to just take the children swimming in the ocean, especially since there are many beaches to choose from here in Newport.”
“I suppose you make a most excellent point, although you will need to hire someone who knows how to swim to join you when you take the children into the ocean, unless . . .” She glanced at Millie. “Can you swim?”
“I’m afraid not, Mrs. Mulberry, but since you’ve dismissed me, I don’t believe it really matters at this point whether or not I know how to swim.”
“I’ve decided that I might have been a little hasty in that regard, especially since I’ve been reminded by my husband that nannies are always in short supply during this time of year.” She narrowed her eyes at Millie. “Having said that, do know that, if I witness any further shenanigans on your part, I
will
see you dismissed.”
“I don’t purposefully become involved with shenanigans,
Mrs. Mulberry, but you should know that sometimes they just seem to happen to me.”
Dorothy’s eyes narrowed a bit more. “Don’t make me regret giving you another chance.”
“Of course, and I do thank you, but again, it’s not as . . .”
“You should stop while you’re ahead,” Dorothy interrupted before she turned to Everett. “I’m going to go dry off, but I expect to see you in the not-too-distant future in the library, where you and I, along with your father, are going to discuss a few things.”
“What kind of things?” Everett asked.
“Your progress with the children, or lack thereof from what I’ve seen thus far.”
Elizabeth sloshed her way through the water to join him, surprising him once again when she took hold of his hand. “Uncle Everett has been doing much better of late, taking care of us and all. Just today he told me that I’m going to face punishment for aiming a croquet ball directly at Miss Dixon’s head, and if you ask me, that’s progress, even if I don’t particularly care to spend the rest of the afternoon in my room.”