Once he’d fully reassembled the toy they both stood and—without any need to consult on the matter—left the library to test the toy in the hall, which had carpet but only a runner, leaving a perfect strip of black and white tile down each side that was perfect for metal wheels.

Oliver put his hand on the key and then hesitated. He looked up at Gareth. “Would you like to do the honor, sir? You were the one to find the problem and fix it.”

“I will do the next one.”

Oliver’s smile was one of relief and he twisted the key with great care and then bent down, holding the toy in both hands before turning his head to look at Gareth. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

The metal cat shot down the hallway, emitting a high-pitched mechanical whirring sound and skidding almost all the way to the second library entrance before sliding to a halt. The boy leapt into the air, both arms raised in victory. “Hurrah! Hurrah!”

Gareth smiled. “It is my turn.”

Gareth heard a small clicking sound as he wound the mechanism, as if the spring were slipping. He looked down at the boy, who was waiting with barely restrained impatience. “I think it will require a new pin. The metal has been stressed and is no longer stable.” He finished winding the mechanism and handed the cat to Oliver, who held it with both hands to stop it from prematurely beginning its cycle. “You can release it. I think you will find it cannot be wound too many more times.”

“Do you know how to make a pin, sir?”

“I do not possess the necessary equipment for such fine work. But I daresay a clockmaker could fashion what you need.”

The spring had begun to slip badly by the time Mrs. Lombard and Declan found them a quarter of an hour later.

The sculptor looked at her son—who was in the process of crawling on hands and knees toward the cat—and then at Gareth, who was following behind him, but on his feet.

“What a pleasant surprise, Mr. Lockheart.” The smile she gave him seemed authentic, as far as he was ever able to gauge such things. “I think you will be happy with the progress we are making with the dam.”

Her riding habit was a dark green that made her even prettier than he recalled. Her hair, as usual, had come loose around her flushed cheeks and softened her round face, making her appear younger. Gareth looked at Declan, only to find the Irishman watching him, an amused glint in his eyes that Gareth could not like.

“What do you think of the project?” Gareth asked his friend when he realized they were waiting for some response—any response—from him.

“I never got so far. I met Mrs. Lombard in the stables and decided to accompany her back here.”

Oliver came up to his mother, holding up his toy. “Mr. Lockheart fixed it for me, Mama, but it will not stay fixed. He says we must take it to a clock maker.”