He looked at her, then at the children, who’d paused mid-bite in alarm. One corner of his mouth turned up, a ghost of his grin. “All’s well. The guardianship hearing has been postponed. Backlog in Chancery, it seems.”
“Postponed?” Freddie’s voice was thin, and he had not touched his eggs. “Does that mean we have to leave?”
“No,” said Selina hurriedly. “No, of course not, Freddie.”
“You never need to leave,” Peter told him.
Lu said nothing, picking up her fork and mechanically eating again, her gaze fixed in the middle distance.
Selina felt a cold weight in her belly. She wanted to believe Peter’s promise to Freddie, but the delay felt ominous.
She wanted this to be over. She wanted the children secure and immutablytheirs. Never before had Belvoir’s felt so much like Damocles’s sword, dangling above her and liable to fall at any moment.
Despite her efforts, she had not yet found out who had started the rumors about Nicholas. She’d dropped her pride and written a half-frantic note to Lydia asking if she could put her domestic spies to work to find out more.
She felt sick, though, as she stared at the children, at Peter’s almost-frown. How could she do this? How could she welcome them home without knowing whether they would truly be able to stay?
Her reputation simply could not be destroyed until after the hearing. She would not permit it. She set her jaw, forcing the fear out of her expression.
“Don’t forget to save some room for sweetmeats,” she said. “Especially now that Miss Dandridge has learned your favorites.”
They had an outing planned for after breakfast with Aunt Judith and Thomasin again. Aunt Judith had suggested they meet in Hyde Park; Selina suspected some subterfuge involving Lady Eldon but was uncertain of the details.
Even Lu was eager to see Thomasin. Selina felt her lips curve as she watched Lu scrape the plate of eggs clean and then bound up the stairs, Freddie and the kitten trailing her.
Peter laid his hand along her back, and she tilted her head into the solidity of his chest.
“It’ll be well,” he said. “You’ll see.”
She almost believed him.
In the park, Aunt Judith and Thomasin arrived not with Lady Eldon, but with grooms, footmen, and two ponies, a black and a shaggy bay.
Selina laughed aloud when she saw them. Peter’s aspect suggested alarm.
“You,” Selina said to her aunt, “are a menace as a grandmother. Ponies! Merciful heavens, Aunt Judith, I had to marshal an extended essay—in French!—when I wanted a dog at Broadmayne. And Freddie and Lu get ponies four days after they join the family?”
Aunt Judith gave Selina an arch look beneath her silver brows. “These children are considerably less spoiled.”
Thomasin patted Selina’s shoulder. “If you are still feeling bitter, my darling, allow me to remind you that you made Will write most of your essay for you anyway.”
Selina felt herself blush as the interested gazes of her spouse, aunt, and two tousle-headed children swung her way. “I most certainly did not.”
She had. Her French was execrable.
“Hmph,” said Aunt Judith. “That explains why you forbore to read it aloud.”
Peter made a muffled sound of laughter, which Selina pointedly ignored. She ushered the children toward the ponies. Lu leapt forward enthusiastically, demanding to know the black pony’s name and asking whether she might try to mount it. She stroked its velvety nose, crooning over the white star beneath its forelock.
Freddie hung back.
“Have you ridden before?” Thomasin asked him, her sandy ringlets bobbing beneath a white lace cap.
He nodded, his face flushed. “I am—not sure I was fond of it.”
Thomasin’s lips quirked. “Let me tell you a secret. Do you remember Selina’s brother, the duke? Tall, black hair, rather grave?”
Freddie nodded.