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“George,” she answered.
Mr. P’s gaze turned to him. George pretended not to notice as he went down the length of the side table. If Rose couldn’t be quiet, he was glad she was talking about a pig farm instead of what James wanted them to do.
“Regardless of your brother’s plans, you’re not going to a pig farm, George,” Mr. Pershing said. “You specifically requested that we find somewhere acceptable to you. I’m not a duke, but I do have some connections.”
George turned around. “You can’t use your connections without people gossiping, and then everyone would find out that you have pretend children and the duke would take your house.”
“I’m not going to argue with you, but I would be willing to wager you a shilling, say, that Emmeline and I can do better than a pig farm.”
Mr. Pershing still smiled, but George knew he’d insulted their pretend father. Mr. P had insulted him, too, though. He’d been told enough lies in his life to know the difference between what somebody wanted to happen and what would actually happen. James being there was proof of that. “I don’t wager against grown-ups,” he said. “They never pay up when they lose.”
“Why are we wagering?” Mrs. Pershing asked. When she walked into a room she almost seemed to float. She smiled, putting a hand on George’s shoulder. “Are you happy your brother’s here?”
“I suppose,” he grumbled. It made everything four times as complicated, and it was already almost too much for him to keep track of.
“We’re wagering over the family you’ll find for George and me,” Rosie answered. “We want you to keep looking, just in case James isn’t really going to get me a puppy like he promised.”
“They anticipate a pig farm,” Mr. Pershing added.
“Oh, heavens no. I’ll be speaking with Father John as soon as I can arrange it, to see if he knows of any good families who might be interested in adding two wonderful children to their household.”
“A duke’s family would be good,” Rose commented around a mouthful of toast and marmalade. “Because then I could still be a duchess.”
That didn’t seem at all right, but neither of the Pershings corrected her. Either she had the right of it, then, or they’d figured it wouldn’t do any good to tell her the truth. George was glad of that; Rose liked dressing in pretty clothes, and if she wanted to pretend to be a lady, then she should be able to do it. James might talk about pretty things and puppies, but talking about it didn’t make it happen.
Mr. P cleared his throat. “Anyway, I believe you have embroidery this morning, Rose, and I thought George and I might go fishing.”
“Fishing would be good,” George answered. And it would keep him out of the house and away from whatever James was doing.
Rosie stood up, slamming her hands against the tabletop. “Wait just a minute. Girls can’t go fishing? I want to fish!”
“We’ll have more opportunities for fishing,” their pretend papa said. “This is actually going to be a lesson in how to act like a gentleman, with some fishing thrown in so it’s less dull.”
Slowly she sat down again. “I suppose that’s better. But when is dancing? I’d like to learn the waltz.”
“Dancing will begin tomorrow,” the missus said. “And I’m afraid we’ll be starting with the country dance and the quadrille, since those are the dances you’ll likely be doing if my grandfather hires musicians for his birthday soiree.” She smiled. “We’ll make time for a few waltz lessons, though.”
“So, James has promised to get Rose a puppy,” Emmie said, as Will chose a pair of fishing poles.
“He’s trying to make amends, I imagine, since George said they didn’t expect to see him again.”
“Even so. What if he decides he’s seen enough, and he bundles them off to God knows where?”
Will handed the poles to Edward. “I’m not certain he actually has a right to take them. I’ll send a few letters to solicitor friends, asking their opinions. Discreetly, of course.”
If Will was one thing, it was discreet. “Good. Until you hear from them, I intend to proceed as if nothing has changed except for the addition of one extremely inconvenient house guest.”
“I’d like to say it would be good for them all to be a family together, but I’m not so certain. And I hope my… distaste for their brother isn’t simply because we need George and Rose here. But yes, we need to continue seeking a family for them, until they tell us otherwise.” Hefting a bucket, Will took back the poles and headed for the kitchen door. “And now I’m off to talk about fish and gentlemanly behavior.”
Yes, that was good, proceeding as if nothing had altered. It hadn’t yet, more or less. But promising a puppy to Rose—that was just underhanded. Emmie found Rose and Hannah in the morning room, and she leaned in. “Rose, I think you should begin with embroidering a rose. Hannah, will you help her choose thread colors? I’ll be back in just a moment.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
Emmie hurried outside and around the side of the house to the stable. A puppy. That was unfair. “Billet?” she called as she stepped inside the large building.
“Mrs. Pershing.” The head groom popped up from beside Willow in the mare’s stall.
“Billet, we are in need of two ponies,” she said, putting on her most confident smile. “Calm, suitable for George and Rose, and good-tempered. And we’ll need them today.”