Lord Bryant reached down and made a show of picking up the book. He held it in one hand, then proceeded to wave his hands in the air. “That seems possible, even holding a book.”

A baron was in her home’s nursery, cravat still askew, waving his arms about and smiling at her like she was the one being ridiculous. She shook her head and returned his guileless smile. This time it wasn’t the practiced smile she usually gave him while trying to remain in control of a situation. There was no control in this situation. This was a moment of respite for two young boys who had lost their father, and it was a moment of diversion for her. She had been working much too hard lately, and she needed this. What was this for Lord Bryant? Amusement? Excitement? Was waving his hands around in the nursery something he did every day?

Definitely not.

She stood from her chair, strode to where Lord Bryant was still waving the book in the air, and grabbed it from his flailing hands.

“That is not how it is done.” Before she could think better of it, she put her hands in front of her, the right one still holding the book, and bounced them up and down like she was holding the reins of a wild horse. “You have to gallop.”

She kept her right foot forward as she galloped across the room to where Tommy and Drue were still impersonating her. Her skirts flew about her, and a few locks of her hair fell out of their pins and rested against her neck. The three of them jipped and whooped and spun and galloped, the boys laughing harder than they had in ages. She stopped to catch her breath and turned to see Lord Bryant smiling at the three of them. His smile was different. He wasn’t trying to enchant a woman or prove his devilry with his crooked grin. He was simply smiling, with his shoulders relaxed and a hand at his hip.

Diana returned to the table, sat down, and began reading, using all of her voices without hesitation. “Lucky” Hans continued to trade his possessions for things of lesser and lesser value until he was left with only a heavy grindstone on his back as he made his way home. He hadn’t seen his mother in seven long years, and the stone slowed his progress. Thirsty from all the walking and carrying such a heavy burden, Hans laid the grindstone down near a pond while he knelt to get a drink. With a plop, the grindstone, the last remaining item he had to show for all his years of work, fell into the pond and sank.

Diana paused from her reading to take in the faces of those listening. Tommy and Drue were both leaning forward, anticipating what Hans would do next, even though they had heard the story dozens of times. Lord Bryant leaned forward in much the same manner. Whether he had heard the story or not, he seemed interested in its conclusion.