* * *
Harrison lowered himself onto the settee in the parlor, and settled a son on each leg. When Staimes and Miss Elderberry came up sick at the last minute, Harrison’s own stomach had taken ill. Not from food sickness, but with worry. He feared upsetting Miss Bowen by ruining her dinner plans, but he didn’t. Women of his society back home in Boston wouldn’t have been so gracious. They would have shunned him for days, and some indefinitely over something like this.
He would have hated it if Abby would have shut the door in his face. And even though it couldn’t be helped, he wouldn’t have blamed her. After all, a lot of hard work and hours of preparation went into making a meal, not to mention the food that would have gone to waste if he hadn’t been able to come.
Relief skimmed over him the instant Abby had smiled and opened her doors to him and the twins, and his stomach stopped hurting. He no longer had to worry about how she would be with the children.
Harrison’s lips curled, knowing he wouldn’t have to miss dinner with the twins. He and his sons almost always ate breakfast and dinner together, unlike most of his friends who sent their children away to boarding school or left them with a nanny twenty-four hours a day. That wasn’t for him or his boys. No, he never wanted his children to feel like he had growing up—unwanted and unloved.
Just then, Abby breezed into the room, holding a medium-size box with toys sticking out of the top. “I found these in the attic. I was going to send them to my nephews, but I’m sure Josiah and Graham would enjoy playing with them.” She set the box on the coffee table in front of his sons.
Their eyes widened, but at first they did not move. Finally, he slid them both to the floor and nudged them in that direction. They slipped from his protection, and with their heads together, they gazed into the box.
“Go ahead. You can play with them.” They looked up at her, then at him as if seeking his approval. He nodded.
Each one quickly snatched a toy, and together, they headed over and sat down on the floor near the fireplace. They had each selected a section of train, and when Harrison brought the box over to them, they began removing the rest of the toys from the container.
Knowing they were occupied and having fun, Harrison came back and placed his attention on Abby. “Thank you for that. And thank you for understanding about the ruined dinner plans. I really hated to do that to you.”
Abby waved him away. “It’s nothing. Really. And you didn’t ruin a thing.”
“By the way, I meant to tell you, you look very nice this evening.”
“You mean compared to earlier?” An amused smirk curled her lips.
“Oh. I see how that sounded. My apologies. I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant you look very nice.” She did, too. Dressed in a striking white dress that showed off her trim figure, and with her shining hair hanging freely down her back, she looked stunning. Even her hands looked nice. Her long graceful fingers weren’t red like they had been earlier.
“I had it first, Siah!”
Harrison’s attention darted toward his boys.
“No. I did!” Josiah yanked it from his brother’s hands.
“Boys. That’s enough.” He stood and headed toward them, but he was too late.
Josiah snatched the toy in question, raised it and whacked Graham, hitting him squarely in the head. The wail that ensued could surely be heard in Boston.
Harrison picked up his screeching son and held him close, patting his back and speaking soothing words to him.
Abby was at his side in an instant, worry etched on her face. She dropped to her knees and started talking to Josiah. Harrison couldn’t hear what she was saying because Graham’s cries still filled his ears.
Minutes passed before Graham’s tears finally let up. Harrison leaned him back to check the top of his head. A small amount of blood streamed through his hair. “Abby, do you have a washcloth I can use?” Oh, how he hated having to ask, hated having to bother her with this. She was going to think he was far more trouble than he was worth.
She stood, holding a tear-soaked Josiah in her arms. “I sure do. I’ll be right back. If it’s okay with your father, would you like to go with me, Josiah?”
He wiped his eyes and slowly nodded, then looked over at Harrison. Remorse and trepidation filled his son’s eyes. “You may go with her. But before you do, you need to say you’re sorry to your brother. It is never okay to hit someone else. Do you understand that?”
Josiah nodded. “Saw-ree, Gam.”
Graham wouldn’t look at him. Instead, he buried his face into Harrison’s collar.
“Graham, what do you say to your brother?” Harrison asked.
The boy did nothing.
“No. Come on. It’s time to make up. Give your brother a hug.” He put him on the floor.
Abby lowered Josiah, as well.
Graham shook his head.
“Very well, then, Graham. You will not be allowed to play with Miss Abby’s toys any longer.”
Graham turned wide eyes up at him, then rushed to his brother and hugged him long and hard. Pretty soon they were giggling. His sons sat down on the floor again next to the toys.
“That didn’t take long.” He turned to Abby, who was smiling up at him.
“You sure handled that nicely.”
Her words made him feel proud. His biggest fear was failing as a father. “Thank you.”
They smiled at each other.
“I’ll run and get that washcloth now.”
“Thank you.”
Harrison watched his sons as Abby exited. He sighed. Great first impression they were making.
Abby entered the room a few minutes later holding a bowl and a clean cloth. While Harrison and Abby cleaned his small wound, Graham squirmed and fretted, acting as though they were torturing him or something. When it was all over, he settled back onto the floor and started playing as if nothing had happened.
“Mademoiselle, dinner is ready.”
The woman standing only a few yards from him was tall with chestnut-blond hair and grayish-green eyes, who spoke with a French accent very much like Colette had earlier.
“Harrison, this is Zoé, Colette’s sister. Oh. I forgot to introduce you to Colette earlier. I was, um, a bit disheveled.” Abby’s soothing laughter reminded him of the musical sound of a sparrow songbird back home in Boston. “Anyway, Zoé, this is Mr. Harrison Kingsley.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir.” She curtsied.
“Nice to meet you, too,” he said. Even though he wasn’t used to people in his society introducing him to their help, he liked it. He liked the informality a lot. Back home it sure wouldn’t be acceptable. But, then again, he wasn’t back home. He was here. A quick glance at Abby, and he was glad he was, too.
“Shall we head into the dining room?” Abby asked.
His heart plummeted to his perfectly shined shoes. Abby had no idea what she was getting herself into when she’d