Devlin chuckled, Therese smiled and linked her arm with his, and they strolled in their offsprings’ wakes.
Although Nanny Sprockett, Patty, and Dennis hovered, ready to assist if required, Therese and Devlin took it upon themselves to herd the children around the paths and along the fronts of the enclosures. They had arrived soon after the gardens had opened, and as the morning wore on, more families appeared. When they reached the monkeys, Devlin took the boys’ hands and held them back until others departed and a suitable opening appeared, then went forward with them, while Therese lifted Horry and carried her to where she could look into the cages over her brothers’ heads.
The monkeys chattered noisily, and the boys grinned, then Rupert asked whether monkeys ate only monkey nuts. “And why,” Spencer added, “are they called ‘monkey nuts’ when we eat them, too?”
Therese briefly met Devlin’s eyes and left that for him to answer—which he did, explaining that other people called the nuts different names, for instance, peanuts, but that as the British first learned of the nuts as monkeys’ favorite food, the name “monkey nut” had stuck in their country.
“As for what monkeys eat”—Devlin looked at Rupert—“I know they eat bananas and other types of fruit.”
“But not eggs or bacon or sausages?” Rupert asked.
Devlin ruffled Rupert’s hair. “I’m not sure that anyone has ever offered them eggs, bacon, or sausages, but I suspect they wouldn’t like them. I think they’re herbivores, which means animals that eat only leaves, fruits, nuts, and vegetables.”
“We’re not herbivores,” Spencer declared. Then he looked up at Devlin, faintly puzzled. “What are we?”
“I think”—Devlin met Therese’s eyes and widened his in a plea for help; they’d discovered that giving incorrect answers could sometimes rebound in unexpected ways and in unhelpful company—“that as we eat meat of all sorts, we’re carnivores.”
Therese promptly stepped in. “However, because we also eat our vegetables—and you know Nanny Sprockett is forever telling you how important that is—then we’re actually, technically, omnivores.”
Devlin nodded. “Omnimeans ‘all’ in Latin, andvorescomes from the Latin verbvorare, which means”—he widened his eyes at the boys and raised both hands like claws—“‘to devour!’ Argh!”
The boys shrieked and giggled as Devlin pounced on them both and pretended to roar like a beast.
Therese couldn’t stop smiling. She couldn’t imagine any other earl making a fool of himself in public just to make his children laugh.
They finally waved goodbye to the monkeys. With all three children starting to flag, Therese caught Devlin’s eye and tipped her head toward the exit, and he nodded and steered their tribe in that direction.
Wise in the ways of young children, Nanny Sprockett had brought biscuits; once she’d distributed her treats, the children walked rather slower as they munched, allowing the adults to stroll in more leisurely fashion.
With her arm wound in Devlin’s, with him, Therese followed their trio and inwardly acknowledged how content she was with the way the morning had gone. The truth was she treasured the moments such excursions gave rise to—the interactions, the often-wordless communication, the sense of acting together to protect and nurture the three little people they both held so dear.
In dealing with their children, she and Devlin had always been something of a team, but today, that partnership had seemed…smoother. Easier. More instinctive and practiced. The closeness, the sense of togetherness the morning had engendered, reminded her of how they’d worked together in reintroducing Martin to the ton at Lady Wicklow’s event two days before. There, too, she’d sensed a drawing closer, at least in terms of their understanding of each other, of how the other thought and would behave.
Whatever the subtle change, or perhaps a deepening of something that had already existed, Devlin seemed as amenable to embracing it as she was.
She glanced at him; he was watching the children, and she seized the moment to drink in his relaxed, easygoing expression. Looking ahead again, she revised her assessment; he wasn’t passively accepting the change she’d sensed but actively inviting and encouraging it.
They’d been married for over five years. Such a change—a deepening connection—was, she supposed, to be expected of a maturing relationship.
Not having any similar relationship with which to compare, she couldn’t be sure, but she resolved to keep her eyes open and her wits about her during their upcoming joint engagements to see what other signs of evolution she might detect.
Her mind returned to the hour and more she’d spent with Devlin after Lady Wicklow’s picnic had been consumed, when they’d banded together in furthering Martin’s cause. She’d enjoyed those minutes more than she’d expected; she’d derived more satisfaction from those moments than she had through any similar interlude at a ton event.
And her delight hadn’t been solely due to her pleasure over helping Martin. She’d found herself engrossed with what she’d learned about Devlin and his various interests, as with her on his arm, he’d weaved through the guests and sought to make her brother known to those who might be useful to Martin in reclaiming his place in the ton.
Somewhat to her surprise, she’d had a role to play, too; several times, Devlin had thrown her a certain look, which—correctly, as it had turned out—she’d interpreted as an appeal for her to distract one or more gentlemen while he and Martin conversed with another. She’d discovered that her years in society had left her more than able to engage with such men and divert their attention from Devlin and Martin’s more private discussions.
That had been…a novel challenge, and meeting it had left her feeling buoyed.
Looking back on those moments, thinking of the deepening connection between her and Devlin and imagining what might lie ahead, she acknowledged that, now the children were growing and she’d consolidated her control over the various Alverton households, she was rather keen to take what seemed to be shaping up as her next step, namely to fulfill the role of Devlin’s countess on a wider, business-inclusive, possibly politics-inclusive stage.
The more she dwelled on all she’d sensed and felt over the past days, it definitely seemed that Devlin was ready and willing and even happy to invite her deeper into his life.
At the thought, she felt hope, anticipation, and eagerness soar. She was definitely ready to take on that challenge.
“Mama! Mama!” Rupert pointed, then turned big eyes up to her face. “Did you see the g’rilla scratching himself?”
She’d missed the performance, but duly glanced at the gorilla’s cage as they strolled past, then turned to her expectant sons and said, “And now you know why gentlemen who behave like that are said to be no better than apes!”
