Wiping his eyes with the back of his smarting hand, Jake went reluctantly to the board and picked up the chalk. The figures meant nothing to him, and he stared at them blankly.
"Dear me," murmured Mr. Jefffys, coming up behind him. He was standing so close, Jake could feel his breath stirring his hair and he could smell that sourmilk smell that seemed to hang around him. "We haven't been listening to a word I've said the entire afternoon, have we, Master Praed?"
Jake wrinkled his nose, trying not to breathe in too deeply. His stomach knotted with tension as he waited for the inevitable tirade. The words were not so much angry as hurtful, like little darts that buried themselves in his skin. It made him feel sick, and he stared at the white chalk figures, holding himself very still.
The sound of carriage wheels on the gravel below carried faintly through the sealed window. Mr. Jeffrys paused in full sarcastic flood and walked to the window.
"It seems his lordship has arrived," he observed, tapping the stick in the palm of his hand. "I'm sure he'll be very grieved to hear of your lack-" He stopped in astonishment as Jake abandoned his chastened position at the blackboard and ran to the window. He jumped on tiptoe to look out.
"Gabby! It's Gabby!" Before the outraged tutor could say or do anything, he'd bolted from the room, his feet resounding on the stairs as he hurled himself down them.
Mr. Jeffrys gathered his gown around him and marched downstairs in the wake of his errant pupil.
"Gabby… Gabby… Gabby…" Jake catapulted into Mrs. Bailey as he flew across the hall. Bartram had the front door open and jumped aside as the child shoved past him, almost tumbling down the steps to the gravel sweep.
Gabby had just alighted from the chaise and was leaning in to reach for something. His father stood behind her. There was another chaise standing on the gravel, but Jake didn't take this in at first in his joy.
"Gabby!" he bellowed again.
She spun around. "Jake!" Her arms went around him as he leaped against her, and she lifted him off the ground. "My, you have grown," she said, kissing his cheek. "I can hardly lift you now."
"That's 'cause I'm seven," the child gabbled. "Where've you been? Have you cone back to stay?"
"I realize I run a poor second after Gabrielle," Nathaniel said, sounding amused, "but how about a greeting for your father."
Laughing, Gabrielle set Jake on his feet. There was the barest hesitation in the boy's manner as he looked up at his father, but when Nathaniel smiled and bent to pick him up, he put his arms tightly around his neck and hugged him with a silent wealth of emotion that filled Nathaniel with a warm, deep joy.
"Lord Praed, Ireally do apologize." Mr. Jeffrys's accents, both obsequious and outraged, broke into the reunion. "Jake had no right to leave the schoolroom in such a discourteous and impetuous fashion. I will deal with him at once. Come here, young man." He moved purposefully, obviously prepared to wrest his pupil from Nathaniel's arms.
"Are you still around, Mr. Jeffrys?" Gabrielle turned to look at him, her lip curled in disdain. "You really are the most odious toad. I suggest you pack your bags and leave as soon as you can do so. Lord Praed will give you a month's wages in lieu of notice and the gig will drive you into Winchester, where you can catch the stage to take you back from whence you came."
She brushed her hands together with an air of great satisfaction.
Mr. Jeffrys's mouth opened and shut, and he looked just like the big old carp in the fish pond, Jake thought delightedly, unable to believe what he'd just heard.
"My lord?" Jeffrys turned in appeal to Nathaniel. "I don't know what to say-"
"We'll discuss it later, Jeffrys," Nathaniel said calmly, setting Jake on his feet. "You may be sure there'll be a generous settlement."
The tutor clutched the lapels of his gown in a convulsive grip as if trying to hang on to some symbol of his authority, then he turned and went back into the house.
Jake gave a gleeful shriek. "You sent him away, Gabby! Gabby sent old Jeffrys away!"
Gabrielle grinned down at him. "Mothers can be remarkably useful on occasion."
Jake blinked and then said in an awestruck voice, "You going to be my mother?"
"Would you like that?" She came down to his level, catching his chin in her hand.
Jake just gazed at her, speechless. Then he gave a loud whoop of joy and dashed away, racing round and around the gravel sweep, his arms flapping wildly in a violent imitation of a massive bird.
Georgie, who'd just alighted from the second chaise, regarded Jake's exuberance with a tolerant eye. "He seems to like the idea," she observed.
"Did you just give that tutor his walking papers, Gabby?" Simon was looking half shocked, half amused.
"Odious toad, she called him," Miles said with a grin. "Mind you, he did seem to be singularly lacking in attraction, even for a tutor."
"I suppose it was too much to expect you to wait for the ink to dry on the marriage license before you started throwing your weight around," Nathaniel remarked with a degree of resignation.
"When it comes to Jeffrys, yes," she responded firmly.
Nathaniel shook his head with a half-smile and called to his son, still tearing around the circle loudly whooping.
"Jake! Jake, come here now and greet our guests in proper fashion."
Jake turned and came swooping toward them, flapping his wings. His father reached out and collared him, hauling him to a standstill.
"You remember Lord and Lady Vanbrugh, don't you?"
Jake nodded, too out of breath to speak. His face was scarlet with his exertions and his hair stuck damply to his forehead.
"Make your bow," Nathaniel prompted.
Panting, Jake obeyed, jerkily sticking out his damp hand. Taking a gasping breath, he asked Gabrielle, "Are you married to Papa now?"
"Almost," she said, wiping his face with her handkerchief. "That's why Georgie and Simon and Miles are here. We're going to be married in the church tomorrow."
"Can I watch?"
"Of course. That's why we came here," she said, taking his hand. "Shall we go and tell Primmy that Mr. Jeffrys is going?"
Miles watched them walk off hand in hand, Jake's bubbling voice continuing almost without pause for breath. "It's funny, but I'd never have thought of Gabby as a mother," he said. "She seems too exotic, somehow."
"Oh, that's nonsense," Georgie declared. "Gabby's wonderful with children. You should see her with my baby brothers and sisters. And little Ned dotes on her."
"Shall we go inside?" Nathaniel said abruptly, his countenance suddenly dark. He strode ahead of them into the house.
Simon and Miles exchanged a rueful look. "Did I say something wrong?" Georgie murmured, slipping her arm through her husband's.
"No," Simon reassured. "He's just a bit sensitive on the subject of children because of Helen."
"But that was seven years ago!"
"He'll get over it. Gabby'll make sure of that," Miles said with confidence as they entered the house.
Gabrielle came running down the stairs as they went into the library. "Oh, there you all are. Georgie, come and help me choose my wedding dress. Ellie's unpacking my things and I can't decide whether to wear flaming crimson, since I am a scarlet woman about to be made an honest one, or some niminy-piminy sprigged muslin."
"You don't have any sprigged muslin," Nathaniel said, pouring wine for his guests, his expression once more equable. "At least, not that I've seen."
"I suppose I could wear my britches, like I did when the Danish captain married us."
"What Danish captain?" Simon asked, fascinated.
"Oh, on a boat to Copenhagen. Nathaniel asked him to marry us and he did his best, poor fellow, but I don't think he knew what he was doing, so we decided we'd better do it again, properly. Just to be on the safe side. We don't want any little ones born on the wrong side of the blanket, do we?"