The butler’s gaze lowered to Evelyn, who was clutching Rupert the Bear and Diana’s hand and leaning into her skirts. The butler smiled. “And this must be Miss Evelyn. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, miss.”
The butler raised his gaze to take in Toby and the boys, who had come up behind Diana and Evelyn. “And Master Roland and Master Bryce and Mr. Cynster.” The butler bowed again. “Welcome to Fellows Hall. My name is Gallagher.” He stepped back and waved them in. “Please, come in.”
They obliged and walked into the front hall, and after Gallagher had closed the door, Toby said, “I believe Mrs. Fellows is expecting us.”
Gallagher’s eyes dimmed, and his expression clouded. “Ah yes. As to that… Well”—he hurried toward a table in the center of the long, tiled hall—“there are letters that will, I am assured, explain all.” He returned with a small stack of missives in his hands.
Toby didn’t move. A faint frown on his face, he asked, “And Mrs. Fellows?”
Gallagher met his eyes, then sighed and said, “I regret to inform you, sir, that Mrs. Fellows has passed away.”
Toby blinked, then, frown deepening, asked, “When?”
“A little over two years ago, it would be.” Gallagher held his gaze and simply said, “Despite remaining in Vienna, Mr. Fellows—the late Mr. Fellows—has been master here for the past two years.”
Her mind reeling, Diana met Toby’s gaze and saw that he was similarly afflicted. “Two years,” she echoed. That meant…
Toby’s lips tightened, and his gaze shifted to the letters. “I suspect we’d better read those and learn what the situation truly is.”
“Indeed, sir.” Gallagher handed over the letters. As Toby sorted through them, the butler added, “The staff and I have been informed of Mr. Fellows’s passing and the terms of his will.” His gaze returned to the letters. “I understand that those communications will explain everything.”
Toby handed two large packets to Diana, then beckoned to Helga, who had returned down the stairs and paused at their foot. He gave her two letters as well, leaving two for him and one he handed to Roland. “This is from your father for all three of you. I suspect he would have wanted you to read it to Bryce and Evelyn.”
With a small nod, Roland accepted the ivory packet inscribed with his and his brother’s and sister’s names.
Diana was relieved when Gallagher waved them to an open doorway.
“Please. If you will sit in the drawing room, you can read in comfort, and I’ll bring in a tea tray, shall I?”
Still feeling stunned, she nodded in approval, then with Toby and Helga, gently herded the children into the spacious drawing room.
It was a bright, airy, and surprisingly comfortable space, furnished with settees and armchairs that, while fashionable enough, also invited use. All the upholstery, curtains, and carpet were of relatively recent vintage, and the woodwork shone with a glowing patina that testified to the ample use of good-quality beeswax.
A small fire burned in the grate, but the sunshine slanting through the long windows had already banished the morning chill.
The children crowded together on a long settee, and in response to their entreating expressions, Diana and Toby sat at either end, Diana beside Evelyn and Toby beside Bryce, with Roland, holding the letter from their father, in the middle.
When Roland glanced at Toby, he nodded encouragingly. “Let’s read yours first.”
Roland looked down at the envelope, then turned it over and tore open the packet. He drew out two stiff sheets of paper, closely inscribed in Adrian’s neat hand.
Roland smoothed out the sheets, then started reading. “My darling children.”
What followed was a touching epistle from a now-dead father to his much-loved offspring. Several times, Diana had to blink furiously to clear the tears from her eyes, and more than once, she had to swallow a lump in her throat.
Toby’s expression grew more impassive as Roland continued to read, but his eyes bore witness to his feelings. Sorrow, compassion, understanding; all were there for Diana to see as he glanced her way, searched her eyes, then fractionally nodded.
In this, he and she thought and felt the same; through whatever was to come, they would act as one.
Adrian had chosen to end his letter with a firm recommendation that the children put their faith and trust in Diana and in Toby. Although she and Toby had yet to read Adrian’s letters to them, when, with their letter finished, the children turned questioning gazes on her and Toby, they quickly assured the trio that they could count on them and that once she and he had learned all the details from the letters they’d yet to read, they would sort everything out and explain.
Somewhat to her surprise, the three accepted that assurance with precisely the faith and trust that Adrian had advocated.
All three seemed to breathe out, then the sadness and tension that had held them started to fade, and with more of their usual curiosity, they looked around.
Gallagher timed his entrance with a well-stocked tea tray to perfection.
He smiled benignly on the three as he came forward to set the tray on the low table before the settee. “Here you are.” He glanced at Diana. “It’s been quite a while since we’ve had children in the house, but my wife—Mrs. Gallagher, the housekeeper—assures me milk, cakes, and biscuits will be just the thing. She and Cook tell me they can have luncheon ready whenever you wish to partake.”
