the pond.”
George lifted his arms. Robbie bent to pick him up and held him so that George could take the boat from the shelf.
“Caroline.” Robbie indicated for her to walk ahead of them as he came back across the room.
“I have to fetch my bonnet. I will come down soon.” She turned and went ahead of them, hurrying down the stairs from the attic. Then she ran along the landing on the second floor to her rooms.
The day was warm, so she did not bother with a shawl, but just picked up a straw bonnet and tied the burgundy ribbons, which secured it beneath her chin. The colour of the ribbons matched the flowers in the pattern on her ivory muslin dress.
Her heart raced as she ran down the stairs, yet it was not from fear, it was from expectation and excitement. I applaud you. I respect you. No one had said such things to her.
You must be a lot braver than you think…
Albert had complimented her often when he’d courted her, and during the first year of their marriage, but always for her beauty. Robbie had looked beyond her appearance and considered what was inside, and he’d seen courage.
Courage…
What an odd thing for him to see in her when he’d only known the woman who hid herself away. She smiled as she hurried across the downstairs hall and then she ran lightly through the morning room and out through the French doors into the garden.
She could hear them. George was squealing with excitement, and Robbie’s lower tone cheered along with him. When she turned the corner of the second hedge in the parterre gardens, she saw them. Robbie was kneeling at the edge of the pond and George stood beside him with both hands pressed on the stone rim as they blew at the boat. It moved a little, wobbling through the water and sending out ripples.
Caro laughed, the sound bursting from her throat. She could not remember the last time she had laughed. “I see the wind is not really strong enough and so you are making your own.”
Robbie looked up, his lips parting in a sudden wide grin and his slate-grey eyes, which were paler in the sunshine, looked full of pleasure. “It is good to hear you laugh, even if it is at our expense. Will you help us blow?” His lips twisted into a wry smile.
“Aun’ie Ca’o,” George looked up.
“Are you blowing your boat to make it sail?” She lifted her skirt and knelt on the grass, on the other side of George to Robbie, but as Robbie’s hand was settled at George’s waist she did not touch George. She leaned onto the stone about the pond and blew at the boat’s white sails. George blew too, but he could not purse his lips.
Caro patted his head and laughed at the funny sound he made when he blew. “Who is on your boat, George?”
“Uncle Bahbah and the pi’ates.”
Robbie choked mid-blow and laughed more heartily than Caro had done.
Uncle Bahbah was Drew’s nickname for the black sheep of Mary’s family, Robbie’s younger brother Harry.
“Why is Uncle Harry with the pirates, George? What has he done?” Robbie’s hand gripped at George’s side.
A frown drew a line between George’s brows, as though he thought the answer was obvious. “He’s been bad, the pi’ates have captu’ed him and then he took ove’ the s’ip and now he is the capt’in.”
“Well, I am imagining a whole fleet of the Navy’s ships coming up behind your pirates, who are ready to save the day, and they shall be captained by your Uncle Robbie.”
A humorous, but less exuberant, sound slipped out of Robbie’s throat on a low note. “We should have brought your cannons down so we could fire on the pirates.”
“We can imagine cannons,” Caro dipped her fingers into the water. “Now, who do you wish to win, George? Are we blowing with all our might for the pirates to get away, or willing the Navy to catch them?”
“The pi’ates get away!”
Robbie looked at Caro with a smile. “He is Drew’s son.”
“He is, indeed.”
“Then we blow.”
“We blow.”
“Raise the main sail, and pull the yard arm! We need to get away!” Robbie called before he began blowing.
Caro blew too, and the boat began to wobble its way at a snail’s pace through the water.
Robbie kept throwing in comments about how Uncle Bahbah and the pirates were preparing to fight. “Draw your swords!”
“But Uncle Robbie is nearly upon them!” Caro cried. “They wish to take the bad pirates to their gaol.”
“No! No!” George squealed.
She laughed. “Then blow harder, George. Blow harder.”
“And now there’s a storm whipping up! It is making my navy ships sail faster.” Robbie said, dipping his fingers in the water and stirring it up so that the boat rocked even more. “Blow, George, blow.”
“If one of us must rescue it, it will be you who gets his boots wet,” she said to Robbie.
He laughed as poor George tried to blow harder and harder, with no effect.
“Uncle Bobbie, Aun’ie Ca’o, blow!”
“I think I owe you a little chivalry. I can be valiant, Caro,” Robbie responded, smiling at her, before he turned to blow once more.
He’d not called her “Caro” before; no one did but Drew and Mary. The intimacy of her nickname on his lips touched something inside her and clasped tight. She did feel differently towards him. Friendship…
“The storm is coming, George. Tell the pirates to bring down their sails.” Robbie said as he stirred up the water rocking the sailing boat, but it was too far out of reach for George to do anything.
“It’ll sink, Uncle Bobbie. Stop. Stop the sto’m!”
“Not if they take down their sails. The Navy ships are heavier, they have the cannons, they are more likely to go down! Call out to the pirates, take down your sails!”
“Ta’e down you’ sails pi’ates!” George shouted at the boat.
“They are doing it.” Caro, cried. “I can see them. Look they are in the rigging, preparing for the storm.”
“And the Navy have their cannons ready to fire, and their hatches open, the fools. They’ll be caught out.” Robbie stirred the water even more and the boat swayed. “Tell the men to come down from the rigging, George, the sea is too wild. Uncle Bahbah is up there too. Tell him to come down.”
“Come down, Uncle Bahbah!”
“He is down,” Caro said.
“The
