In spite of his agreement with Beryl not to tell Camille of Pruzinsky’s deception, he would indeed tell her the truth if he thought it necessary. Gray would not let her go off with the man, although he suspected Pruzinsky had no intention of leaving without at least a betrothal. Gray suspected as well, should Pruzinsky have Camille’s promise to marry, that he would be more than willing to abandon his claim on her for a tidy payment.

Still, he couldn’t concern himself with Pruzinsky at the moment. Right now, he had five eager children, tucked under the blankets, waiting expectantly. Although, given the way their eyes were barely open, he doubted he would have to read for long.

“Cousin Camille promised you would read to us,” Thomas said, a frown of annoyance creasing his brow. “Will you?”

“I will indeed.” He pulled a chair up close to the bed, sat down and held up a well-used book. “Fortunately, there was a copy of ‘A Visit from St. Nicholas’ on the nursery shelves. As Christmas is just a few days away, I thought it would be perfect for tonight. What do you think? Will it do?”

Silence greeted him.

“No?” His gaze slid from one cautious face to the next.

“We have already heard it, you see,” Simon said in as diplomatic a manner as possible.

“I imagine you hear it every year at Christmas.”

“No, we heard it tonight.” Walter sighed. “Cousin Beryl read it to us after our baths.”

“The skittish one? Are you sure it wasn’t her sister?”

“Uncle Grayson, we can tell one sister from another.” Patience sounded in Thomas’s voice, as if he were the adult. “We have twins of our own.”

“Yes, of course,” Gray murmured, rather nonplused by being put in his place by a ten-year-old. “Very well, then. We’ll find something else.” He rose to his feet, strode across the room to the shelves and studied the offerings. “This will do, I think.” He plunked the book from its spot, paged through it, then returned to his chair. “This is a story by Mr. Dickens called ‘The Magic Fishbone.’ It’s about a princess who gets one wish for anything she wants.”

“I’d wish for a dog,” Thomas said.

“Two dogs.” Walter grinned.

“Three dogs,” George or Henry added. The other twin giggled. “Four dogs!”

“And what would you wish for, Simon?” Gray asked.

“It’s only one wish you say?”

Gray nodded.

“Then I should have to think about it.” Simon considered the idea. “Can I wish for more wishes?”

“I am sorry.” Gray shook his head regretfully. “I suspect that’s against the rules.”

“Not much of a wish if you can’t wish for more wishes,” Thomas muttered.