The maître d’hôtel’s mustache was quivering, almost dancing on his upper lip. Then he finally surrendered and smiled.
Evelyn beamed back. “I promise I don’t bite.”
The maître d’hôtel laughed, then promptly slapped a hand over his mouth, clearly shocked by his own impropriety. But when he lowered the hand, he was still smiling. “I’m sure you are a very good girl.”
Evelyn nodded. “I try hard to be. My brothers try to be good, too.”
The maître d’hôtel’s gaze flicked to where Roland and Bryce had stopped and turned back and now waited, watching, obviously wondering if they needed to rescue their little sister.
The maître d’hôtel’s smile deepened, and he nodded and looked back at Evelyn. “Did you enjoy your meal, Miss Caldwell?”
“Yes.” Evelyn’s smile was bright. “I did.”
Toby and Diana joined her. “We all enjoyed the meal,” Toby said. “Our thanks to you and your staff.”
“However”—Diana urged Evelyn on—“it’s time we got you three upstairs and into bed.”
“Goodnight.” Evelyn waved to the maître d’hôtel, then started toward her brothers.
“Goodnight, sir,” called Roland and Bryce.
Toby and Diana inclined their heads and followed the trio.
“Goodnight,” the concierge-cum-maître d’hôtel quietly called after them.
As the children started up the staircase, Toby and Diana paused at the foot to share an amused and amazed glance, then ascended in the children’s wake.
Still smiling, Diana shook her head in lingering bemusement.
Toby saw, dipped his head closer to hers, and murmured, “The power of a little girl’s smile.”
Diana softly chuckled and nodded.
Feeling that all was right with his world, Toby continued to smile all the way to their rooms.
* * *
Later,once the boys were abed and sleeping soundly, Toby stepped into the corridor and gently closed the door behind him.
He felt oddly restless, as if he wanted something and had no idea what yet felt he should—a peculiarly unsettling feeling.
Having no real aim, he looked along the corridor and was surprised to see Diana at the far end, where an alcove afforded a view across the piazza to the town’s principal church.
He hesitated, but the impulse to join her was the only one he had, and he turned his steps that way.
She glanced at him as he halted beside her. When he didn’t meet her eyes but looked out over the town, she returned her gaze to the view. After a moment, she murmured, “At times, I think managing the children is a simple, straightforward exercise, then something happens, and I feel as if I’m entirely at sea.”
He grunted. “You and me both.” A second later, he shook his head. “I’m accustomed to being able to predict the actions of those with whom I interact—all adults, usually, and people I either know well or whose needs and motives I can with reasonable accuracy guess. But children… Their way of looking at the world, their perspective, isn’t one I always instantly see.”
He felt her gaze touch his face.
“From Adrian’s comments, I gather you’re from a large family.”
There was a question in her tone, and he saw no reason not to oblige. “On multiple levels. I have three siblings—an older brother and sister and a younger sister. All married, all with children.”
“Ah. You’re the bachelor uncle.”
He grinned. “Exactly. It’s a role that has fitted me well.”
