had taken offense. “And doing a fine job of it, too, I’m sure.”
The prickly woman scoffed. “Flattery won’t work on me, young man, so you can save your breath.”
She was outspoken for a servant and not at all the type of woman he would have expected Paul Crowne to have accompany his daughter. Perhaps he’d had a hard time finding a woman willing to make the trip west, despite his wealth. The conditions on board a California-bound steamship were reputed to be lacking, even for those traveling first class. Worse yet was the train trip across Panama. Although that leg of the journey only took about six hours, the exposure to disease had taken its toll. Three miners who’d rented rooms from him during the years he’d run his hotel had contracted yellow fever or malaria shortly after they’d arrived. They’d suffered terribly. Sadly, the diseases claimed all three victims in the end.
“I don’t say things I don’t mean, ma’am. The children are healthy and happy. That tells me they’ve been well cared for.”
She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “But you think you can do better, I hear. You? A man, alone? I reckon you believe that to be true, but I have my doubts.”
He had his, too, but he’d made a pledge to Jack and Pauline. Honoring it required him to make significant changes and to give up his dream of running a restaurant one day, but he’d do whatever it took to ensure a good future for the children.
Gladys pinned him with a searing gaze, turned on her heel and left. A hushed exchange took place in the entryway, and then Lavinia appeared, looking every bit the refined lady she was, from the mass of damp curls piled on top of her head to the dainty leather boots that matched her dress. The cranberry red, while not customary for a woman in mourning, complemented her fair complexion and dark brown hair.
“Uncle Henry.” Dot let go of him and beckoned with a crooked finger.
He leaned over, resting his hands on his knees. “What is it, Dimples?”
She grinned, revealing the reason for the nickname he’d given her. “You said you miss my kisses when you go ’way, so here’s one.” She smacked a kiss on his left cheek.
“Come here, you.” He hefted her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Dot beamed.
Marcie tugged on his sleeve. “I have a kiss for you, too.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Muffin, because your kisses are as sweet as sugar.” He leaned over and received a buss on his right cheek.
He swiped a finger across his cheek, stuck it in his mouth and pulled it out with a pop. “I was right. Sugary sweet.”
The rustle of skirts drew his attention to Lavinia once again. She’d entered the room and stood by the settee. She caught him looking at her, and a shy smile lifted her lovely lips. Her eyes held a hint of...approval? From Lavinia Crowne, the woman who’d looked down her dainty nose at him during her sister’s wedding reception? Nice to know she found something in him to like now, whatever it was.
He tore his gaze from her and gave Alex his attention, struck once again by his nephew’s resemblance to Jack at that age. Henry swallowed the lump in his throat. “How did things go at school today?”
The quiet boy shrugged. “It was all right.”
Marcie, the talkative one of the trio, scoffed. “It was a real good day. He got the highest marks on his whole grade’s arithmetic examination. He knows his multiplication tables all the way to fifteen.”
Henry clapped a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “That’s great, Buddy. I’m proud of you.”
Lavinia joined the conversation. “I am, too. I know how hard you studied for the test.”
Alex scuffed the toe of his boot over a swirl in the worn rug. “Thanks.”
Dot tapped Henry’s cheek.
“What is it, Dimples?”
“Can we have some hot cocoa? It was awful cold outside.”
“Yes, you may,” Lavinia answered. “Just ask Miss Gladys nicely if she’ll make it for you.”
“I’ll ask her instead. She likes me best, so she’ll do it for me.” Marcie patted her thick, curly hair. “I’ll even ask her for whipped cream on top.”
Alex scoffed. “What are you talking about? Miss Gladys doesn’t like anyone.”
“She does, too,” Marcie countered. “She said I’m a flibbertigibbet. Isn’t that a fun word? Flibbertigibbet.”
Alex burst out laughing. Henry kept a straight face, but he couldn’t keep his lips from twitching. Aside from merriment dancing in her dark brown eyes, Lavinia kept her amusement under control. She shot Alex a pointed look. He covered his mouth, but his shoulders still shook.
Marcie jammed her hands onto her hips and faced her brother. “What’s so funny?”
“You are,” Alex shot back. “Do you even know what a flibbertigibbet is? It’s a person who talks too much.”
“Well, Mister Smarty, at least I talk to Miss Gladys. You hardly say anything. Just please and thank you. That’s boring.”
“Come now, children.” Lavinia draped an arm across Marcie’s shoulders. She reached a hand toward Alex and let it hover for a moment, as though waiting for him to welcome the contact. When he didn’t, she pulled her hand back. “Go into the kitchen and get that cocoa. And no more quibbling, please.”
Henry set Dot down, and she trooped after her siblings. As soon as they were out of earshot, Lavinia laughed. “Marcie is really something, isn’t she? Even though I’ve just gotten to know the children, it took no time for me to see how similar Marcie is to... Pauline.” She blinked rapidly to clear her misty eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I miss her so much.”
“I understand. I miss her, too. She was so full of life.”
“She was the best thing in mine. I love how she saw everything as an adventure—even coming out here. I can’t believe I’ll never see her again. I should have come sooner, but...” She heaved a sigh.
“But your father forbade it.”
“She told you?”
He nodded. Paul Crowne hadn’t gone to his daughter’s wedding. Ten years had passed without a word from him. Pauline had never given up hope that his heart would soften one day, but he’d shut her out completely. “He didn’t even realize he had grandchildren until he got my letter with the sad news, did he?”
“I told him, but he—” Lavinia toyed with the button on her sleeve. “He rarely mentioned them.”
The admission had cost her. Henry softened his tone. “He has no idea what he missed, but it’s too late.”
“It’s not. He’s going to meet them. Quite soon, in fact.”
His jaw dropped. “Your father is actually going to come out here after all this time?”
She shook her head, dislodging a curl. The spiral drooped over her left eye. “He can’t get away. Business, you know. That’s why I’m here. I’m going to see that the children have a special Christmas celebration, and then we’ll be going home.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You and Gladys?”
She brushed the loose curl aside. “Yes, plus Stuart and—”
“Who’s Stuart?” The question had slipped out before he could stop it.
“Stuart Worthington is one of my father’s competent young managers. He accompanied us all the way to Sutter Creek before returning to San Francisco. He’s there now and will come back here at the end of the year to escort all five of us back to Philadelphia.”
Henry stared at her in disbelief. “You’re not seriously