They are sinking. They are sinking, George. Shout hurrah, the pirates have won.”
“Hu’ah!” George shouted, thrusting a fist into the air.
“Hurrah!” Robbie called. Then he looked at Caro. “Are you not pleased, Auntie Caro, why are you not cheering?” It was said with satire, and she smiled, but again something clutched in her middle when she looked at his face.
“Because I think your papa ought to teach you to favour the Navy, George, and I shall tell him so. I would have put those pirates in gaol.”
Robbie laughed.
“Pick me up, Uncle Bobbie.” George turned and wrapped his arms about Robbie’s neck, his interest in the boat gone.
“Bend over, then.” Robbie stated as he stood.
George bent over, holding out his hands between his legs. Robbie gripped them and pulled him up so that George spun a somersault in the air. It was a practised manoeuvre, which Robbie must have taught him.
George laughed as Robbie set him on the ground.
Caro closed her mouth on another laugh as her stomach tumbled over. She was laughing in a way she had not done in years, and she was enjoying herself. “You have to rescue George’s boat yet…”
“You just wish to watch me get my boots wet, and I cannot afford to have them ruined.”
“Then you will have to take them off.” Gosh, she could not remember teasing anyone since she and Drew had been children.
He grinned at her. “A perfect solution. Stand up, George.” He began pulling off his morning coat. “You may be the bearer of my coat, while I valiantly climb into the pond to rescue your boat from the storm.”
Even George grinned as Robbie stripped it off.
He folded his coat. “George put out your arms.” George obeyed. “You must stand here, and not let it fall. I do not want grass stains upon it. Conquering heroes should not be covered in grass stains.” George looked at him with eyes full of worship.
Caro smiled at George, then looked at Robbie, as he sat on the low stone rim at the edge of the pond, in trousers, shirt and waistcoat. He had a lean waist and narrow hips. Albert had been broader.
Robbie turned back the cuffs of his shirt, revealing the lean, muscular shape of his forearms and the dark hair across his skin.
Caro breathed in. Something twisted in her stomach.
“I do not suppose you would help me with these?” He lifted a booted foot.
She shook her head. She may feel more comfortable with him, but she did not feel comfortable enough to lean over before him and yank at his boot.
He struggled a little, but he had not brought a valet with him so he must take off his own boots every night. It did not take him long.
She looked at George. Robbie had given George a task so he would not run around. It was a wise trick.
“And these are for you, Caro.” He held out his boots with a wry smile.
She poked her tongue out at him. When had she last done a thing like that?
George laughed, and she looked down to find him looking up at her. Even he’d noticed the difference in her today. She smiled.
“The hero is rising to the challenge!” Robbie called. “Prepared to get both his trousers and his stockings wet for the sake of your poor boat, George.”
Oh, good Lord! She laughed so much her sides ached as he made a great fuss of climbing into the pond. The water came up to his thighs and he waded through it, one hand raised, as though he intended planting a Union Jack and naming it for a territory of Royal Britannia.
“It is rescued!” he cried, when he lifted up George’s toy.
“You are stupid, Robbie,” Caro breathed as he carried it back.
“Call me Rob, Caro, please. Robbie is so childish, I will never get my brothers and sisters to change, but my friends never call me that.”
Friends. Had they achieved that now already? Perhaps not yet, but she truly believed they could become friends. “Let me take the boat, Rob. You may have your boots back.”
He smiled. “Thank you.” He swapped her the boat for his boots, then put them on the edge of the pond and climbed out. The water had plastered his trousers to his legs.
Physically he was at his peak, so young and beautiful.
He picked up his boots. “May I have my coat, young master coat-keeper?” He held out his hand, George raised his arms and Rob took his coat from them. “And now I think we ought to return to the house. I am soaked and would like a change of clothes, and your mama and papa have probably come back and will be looking for you, George.”
Caro gripped George’s hand before he could run off. “Come along, then, do you wish to carry your boat?” He nodded, and so the three of them walked back across the lawn with George gripping his boat and Rob carrying his boots, with his coat hanging over his shoulder.
When they reached the house, Rob excused himself and ran upstairs ahead of them, heading to his room, which was on the first floor, displaying the energy and agility that the muscular definition of his body implied as he took the steps two at a time.
Caro followed him, walking more slowly with George.
Caro had spent her days very differently in the last few weeks. She often played with George and Rob, while Rob thought up silly games. Then in the evenings she dined at the table and afterwards went to the drawing room with Rob, Drew and Mary, where they would either play the pianoforte and sing, or play cards.
It was probably the strangest period of her life because it was the most normal she had ever felt. Rob frequently engaged her in conversation and offered his arm when they walked anywhere together. He also sat beside her at the pianoforte some evenings and would turn the music for her as she played, and on rare occasions, if the song desperately needed a baritone, he would concede and sing with her.
For the first time she did not feel like a parasite, and she was certainly not isolated, she felt a part of life, of a family, and she laughed every day, and smiled often, and most importantly—she was happy. It was a feeling of joy deep inside her.
“Uncle Bobbie!” George complained, gleefully, as his uncle chased after him and captured the running child, wrapping an arm about George and lifting him up by the waist. George’s feet kicked as though he was still running.
“I caught this little monkey.” Rob turned and grinned at her. “I’m not sure exactly what species it is.” George wriggled.
“Aun’ie Caro!” he complained.
They’d taken George for a walk, leaving Mary and Drew to enjoy a little peace with
