She brushed his hair from his forehead, the love on her face as she looked at her son blatant enough even for Gareth to notice and identify. What must it be like to be the recipient of such undiluted affection?

“I believe there is one in town, Oliver. We shall take it with us the next time we go. Now, it is time for your tea. Nounou will be waiting for you.”

“Yes, Mama.” He turned to leave and then pivoted back around. He grinned at Gareth and held up the toy. “Thank you so much, sir.”

Gareth nodded and the boy sped down the corridor.

Mrs. Lombard began pulling off her gloves. “Would you gentlemen care for tea?”

“No,” Gareth said.

“Yes,” Declan said at the same time.

The woman’s lips twitched. “Perhaps we might leave the hall and discuss the matter more comfortably in the small drawing room?”

Declan gave Gareth an ingratiating smirk. “That would be lovely. Wouldn’t it, Gare?” He offered Mrs. Lombard his arm and they headed toward the small drawing room, leaving him to trail behind.

Gareth did not like what he saw on his friend’s face. Not at all.

***

Serena could not envisage a less likely pair of friends: McElroy would not shut up and Lockheart was all but mute. And then there was the awkwardness of acting like a hostess in a strange man’s house. But Lockheart appeared either uninterested in, or unaware of, his duties as a host.

When the tea tray arrived even before they sat down Serena recognized the invisible hand of Jessup at work. No doubt he’d been prepared with a tea tray even before his master’s carriage rumbled into the front drive.

While Serena prepared the tea, McElroy, a man bursting with energy, paced the room and fired off questions.

“I see they are laying out something directly behind the center section of the house.”

“Yes, that would be the parterre gardens.” She looked at Lockheart, who was watching her with the silent, opaque look that made her feel self-conscious. Was her hair a mess? Was there a dirt smut on her nose? “Milk or sugar, Mr. Lockheart?”

“Milk, please.” He came to claim his cup and saucer. “No biscuits for me, thank you.”

“Gareth is an ascetic, Mrs. Lombard. But I will have both milk and sugar in my tea and a couple of those delightful looking fairy cakes as well.” McElroy paused in front of her and waited for his cup and plate, his smile making her feel just as self-conscious as his friend’s brooding stare.

Serena poured herself a cup and added a little milk, selecting one of the cream-filled cakes even though she had promised to exert some restraint when it came to her teas. In the weeks she had been here the magnificent food had begun to tell and her gowns were all a bit snug, even with all the activity that took up much of her days.

She looked up to find both men watching her. “Mr. McElroy tells me you have returned to the area to inspect a brewery?” she asked her employer.