“Oh, he’s going to be a great deal of help,” Beryl said behind her.

Grayson snorted back a laugh.

“Come now, Fortesque, it is simply a change in the . . . in the script, nothing more than that.” Camille stepped toward the stairway. “You there, boys,” she said in a voice drawn from the governesses of her childhood. “Come down here this minute.”

The children traded glances, then reluctantly came to line up at the foot of the stairway in a stair-step manner of their own, from tallest to shortest. Each and every head was topped with an unruly mass of curls in colors ranging from light brown to true blond, and each pair of eyes was very nearly the same shade of brown. The smallest two children looked exactly alike and held hands. The brothers would have looked like Christmas angels, had it not been for the mischievous glint in most of those eyes and an overall air of disarray.

“Now then,” she said in a kind manner, “what are your names?”

The tallest and, no doubt, the oldest, who looked to be about nine or ten, glanced at the others and then stepped forward. “I’m Thomas.” He nodded at the other boys. “These are my brothers. This is Simon.” The next in line nodded in a far more somber manner than she would have expected, given their unruly activity a minute ago. “And Walter.” Walter grinned a toothy grin. She bit back a smile of her own. “And George and Henry. They’re twins.” The two youngest boys, probably six years of age, smiled shyly.

“Well, my goodness.” She adopted a look of surprise. “I have a twin as well.” She glanced at Beryl. “You see, we look almost exactly the same.”

Thomas peered around her at Beryl. “She doesn’t look very friendly to me.” He lowered his voice as if to share a great secret. “She’s a bit skittish too, isn’t she?”

Beryl’s eyes narrowed.

Camille nodded. “Always has been, I’m afraid.” She considered them for a moment. “Tell me, Thomas, do you know why you’re here?”

“Lord Stillwell told Father that you didn’t have any children,” Thomas said.

“Of course he did.” She would have to murder Stillwell the moment after she dispatched his cousin.

“And you wanted some for Christmas,” Walter added, glancing around. “It’s a big house if you don’t have children.”

“It is, indeed. And as I have only ever had sisters, there have never been any boys here.”

Walter shook his head as if that was a great shame.

“And what did your parents tell you about your stay here?” she asked.

“We are to be on our best behavior.” Simon glanced uneasily at the stairs.

“Or Father will tan our bottoms,” Walter announced.

“Therefore, there shall be no more sliding down the banisters.” She adopted a firm tone. “Agreed?”

Thomas looked at his brothers, then nodded.