The boys themselves had been remarkably well behaved when they returned to the house. He didn’t know if that was due to whatever Camille had said to them or if he had worn them out nearly as much as they had tired him. They scarcely did more than mutter cryptic comments and mild objections when the housekeeper and the maids drew baths for them all, although it was clear none of them saw the need for it.

Their eyes had grown wide when they’d first stepped foot in the freshly dusted nursery. Camille’s staff might not be the best actors in the world, but they did do a fine job as servants. And that reminded him: He did need to speak to Fortesque and his wife. The three beds Camille and her sisters had used as children were supplemented with two additional mattresses, which Camille or, perhaps, Beryl had arranged for. The boys, however, insisted on pushing the three beds together, saying they were used to sharing. Thomas, Simon and Walter confided to him that they had never slept in a bed by themselves before; and while they might well like it, the little ones would never be able to sleep by themselves. Gray was fairly certain it wasn’t just the twins who did not want to sleep alone.

The children had explored the nursery and pronounced it to their liking, although the shelves had too many dolls and child-size tea sets and books—nothing that boys liked—which they agreed was a great pity. They were remarkably pragmatic about it for children, noting they would only be here for one night, after all, and it would do. The housekeeper had volunteered to sleep in the old governess’s room, should the boys need something in the night.

They had eaten their supper in the nursery, insisting their beloved Uncle Grayson join them. Camille had certainly turned the tables on him, not that it didn’t serve him right. He had to admire her cleverness, although the company of the boys was not an unpleasant way to pass the time. He hadn’t thought it when he’d read Win’s note, but having the children here for only one night was for the best. As Camille had put him in the role of beloved uncle, and had obviously instructed the children to occupy his every moment, he couldn’t keep an eye on her, as he and Beryl had agreed. Nor could he continue to work his way past her defenses, and hopefully into her heart. And time was growing short.