Not yet.
He’d advanced several steps, yet was still some way from his goal.
Although that fact was unpalatable, he swallowed it and, despite being tempted to stay longer, forced himself to draw away from Therese’s warmth and slide from the bed.
After collecting his discarded clothes, he walked across the room, then paused at the door leading to his apartments. He looked back at Therese, snuggled down in her bed, then forced himself to turn, open the door, and leave.
Soon, but not yet.
Chapter 7
At Devlin’s suggestion, the following afternoon, they indulged the children with a walk in the park, their ultimate destination being the Serpentine, where they would feed the ducks.
As arm in arm with her husband, Therese followed the children—attended by their nursemaids, Gillian and Patty, and the household’s youngest footman, Dennis—across the lawns, it occurred to her to ask, “Did you come out to feed the ducks when you were a boy?”
A smile touched his lips. “Less often than I wished, but at least every few weeks.” He paused, then added, “Of course, after Marcella fell in the water, my visits were curtailed, then I grew too old to view feeding the ducks as a desirable outing.”
Marcella was his sister, five years his junior. Therese studied his face. “How old was Marcella at the time?”
He screwed up his face in thought, then offered, “Three? Something like that.”
“Good Lord! Was she all right?”
“Of course! I fished her out straightaway, but sadly, having demonstrably been close enough to do so, that only weakened my subsequent protestations of innocence.”
She eyed his relaxed expression. “Were you innocent?”
He nodded. “On that occasion, entirely. As to the time she fell in the lake at the Priory—do remember the water is only a foot or so deep, and she was seven at the time—I reserve my defense.” He mock frowned and shook his head. “She was an annoying chit back then, and after Melrose came along, she grew even worse.”
Melrose was Devlin’s brother, currently twenty-nine years old; Therese considered him the idler in the family—he never seemed to be interested in achieving anything. As for Marcella, she was married to Lord Corncrake and lived in Scotland with their four children. Marcella and Melrose occasionally dropped in on Devlin and Therese, and Marcella and her family visited Alverton Priory in early January every year—when the snows lay deep in Perthshire.
Prompted by the realization that she knew few details of Devlin’s childhood exploits, Therese asked, “What other childhood outings did you enjoy while in London?” Given that his father had been the earl and, like Devlin, active in politics, he would have spent much of the year in the Park Lane house. When he looked at her quizzically, she added, “If you enjoyed some particular activity, it’s likely your sons and possibly your daughter will as well.”
A high-pitched shriek drew their gazes to where Spencer and Rupert were gamboling ahead; the frustrated shriek had emanated from Horry, who was struggling to keep up on her much-shorter legs.
Dennis swooped in, picked Horry up, ran with her almost to where her brothers had paused, then set the little girl, now beaming, back on her feet. The boys grinned, turned, and took off again, while Horry, chortling, resumed her chase.
Devlin wondered if Child had said something to start Therese wondering about his childhood. Regardless, he was willing to follow her tack and see where it led—where it might get them. “The zoo wasn’t at Regent’s Park then, of course, but instead, we visited the Royal Menagerie in the Tower. Then there was Gunter’s for ices during the warmer months and, of course, once I was old enough, Noah’s Ark toy shop in High Holborn.”
“Hmm. While I wouldn’t want to take Horry to Noah’s Ark yet—she would be overwhelmed—perhaps we can take the boys next year. They’ll be old enough then, don’t you think?”
By the time they returned to London in the new year, Spencer would be almost five years old, and Rupert would be nearly four. Devlin nodded. “We should make a point of taking them when we return. They can pick out presents for their birthdays.”
“That’s an excellent idea! I used to do that when I was a girl.”
He grinned and met her eyes. “Some of my fondest memories are of walking the aisles of Noah’s Ark with my eyes wide, not being sure where to look next.”
She laughed and nodded. “Mine as well.”
They shared a smile, then looked ahead, to where their children were fast closing on the shores of the Serpentine. As the emotions evoked by his memories rolled through him, Devlin recognized just how happy the earlier years of his childhood had been. He had never harbored any doubt that his parents had loved all their children. Regardless of what he’d come to view as their toxic relationship vis-à-vis each other, in the matter of their offspring, both his father and his mother had been loving and fiercely protective.
Now he had his own brood, he could look back, see, and appreciate that.
“So as a youngster, when your parents were here, at Alverton House, you were mostly on your own?”
He thought back. “Yes and no. There were other young boys about—Child and others as well. Sons of the nobility. Our mothers were acquainted and arranged for our nurses to walk us in the park at the same time.” More memories stirred, and his lips lifted irrepressibly. “When we were a bit older, some of those other boys and I, along with our maids and footmen, would go on day trips to Greenwich. That was always fun—seeing all the boats and flying kites in the park there.” He met her gaze. “You can imagine how some of those outings went. Young boys—most of whom were lords—allowed to run amok can be…”
“Little heathens?”
