“I am very pleased to meet all of you,” Lady Woolhastings said before Ophelia could intervene, her eyes ranging over the assembled children. “Which are you?” She addressed a smartly dressed young man with a somewhat forbidding expression.

“Horatius, my eldest,” the duke said. The youngster bowed elegantly, first before Lady Woolhastings, and then before Ophelia. The dowager inclined her head and Ophelia followed suit, giving the lad a warm smile.

“Horatius is at Oxford, and the next three are at Eton. Alaric, followed by Parth and Roland—who prefers to be called North.”

“North, as in the direction?” Lady Woolhastings clarified. Her eyes rested thoughtfully on Parth, who was clearly not a Wilde by birth. “Ah, I remember now that you have a ward.”

“Parth is my adopted son, not just a ward,” the duke said, an edge in his voice.

“Just so,” Lady Woolhastings said.

The boys turned from her and bowed before Ophelia. She met Parth’s eyes and was reassured by the gleam of steady confidence she saw there. Lady Woolhastings had engaged the duke’s daughter in conversation, so Ophelia smiled at Parth.

“Is that your little girl?” he asked, nodding at Viola, who was sound asleep in the duke’s arms.

“Yes, she is,” Ophelia said.

“So, you’re married?” He nimbly jumped to the side when North kicked him in the ankle. “I’m making polite conversation!”

“I’m widowed,” Ophelia told him.

“So many males,” Lady Woolhastings commented. “Five of the seven, am I correct?”

“Six of the eight,” the duke corrected.

“Lady Betsy has lovely features, and I’m certain she will make an excellent marriage,” Lady Woolhastings announced.

Leonidas chortled and said, “Not if the fellow gets to know her first!”

Without a word, Betsy darted over to her brother and kicked him in the ankle.

“Now, Betsy,” her father admonished mildly.

His daughter kicked Leonidas once more for good measure, smiled up with angelic innocence, and tucked her hand into Ophelia’s. “Are you coming wif us on the sleigh?”

“Stop lisping. No one thinks you’re adorable,” Leonidas said, rubbing his ankle.

Lady Woolhastings watched this with a noncommittal expression. “A stern governess is needed,” she said to the duke.

“I have a governess,” His Grace replied, somewhat shortly.

“I agree with you, Edith. We need someone far more fierce,” Lady Knowe chimed in. “Shall we make our way to the sleighs? All three are ours for the afternoon. The older boys can ride by themselves in the middle sleigh.”

The four of them took off, three boys running and Horatius pacing solemnly along behind.

“I must apologize for interrupting what is clearly a family occasion,” Ophelia said.

“Not at all,” Lady Woolhastings said, one of those empty phrases that mean nothing except by inflection—and Lady Woolhastings’s accent was so frightfully well-bred that Ophelia had no idea how to interpret it.

“We must divide up,” Hugo said.