had been when they’d first met.
But she could see it in his eyes. A flash of pain. Or maybe anger. At himself, at his own weakness. Daphne supposed that there were some things people never got past, not completely.
Reluctantly, Daphne handed Georgie back to his nurse and urged Agatha toward the stairs. “Come along, darling,” she said. “The nursery is waiting. We took out all of the girls’ old toys.”
She watched with pride as Belinda took Agatha by the hand. “You may play with my favorite doll,” Belinda said with great gravity.
Agatha looked up at her cousin with an expression that could only be described as reverence and then followed her up the stairs.
Daphne waited until all the children were gone and then turned back to her brother and his wife. “Tea?” she asked. “Or do you wish to change out of your traveling clothes?”
“Tea,” Penelope said with the sigh of an exhausted mother. “Please.”
Colin nodded his agreement, and together they went into the drawing room. Once they were seated Daphne decided there was no point in being anything but direct. This was her brother, after all, and he knew he could talk to her about anything.
“You’re worried about Georgie,” she said. It was a statement, not a question.
“He hasn’t said a word,” Penelope said quietly. Her voice was even, but her throat caught in an uncomfortable swallow.
“He understands us,” Colin said. “I’m sure of it. Just the other day I asked him to pick up his toys, and he did so. Immediately.”
“Simon was the same way,” Daphne said. She looked from Colin to Penelope and back. “I assume that is why you came? To speak with Simon?”
“We hoped he might offer some insight,” Penelope said.
Daphne nodded slowly. “I’m sure he will. He was detained in the country, I’m afraid, but he is expected back before the week’s end.”
“There is no rush,” Colin said.
Out of the corner of her eye, Daphne saw Penelope’s shoulders slump. It was a tiny motion but one any mother would recognize. Penelope knew there was no rush. They had waited nearly three years for Georgie to talk; a few more days wouldn’t make a difference. And yet she wanted so desperately to do something. To take an action, to make her child whole.
To have come this far only to find that Simon was gone . . . It had to be discouraging.
“I think it is a very good sign that he understands you,” Daphne said. “I would be much more concerned if he did not.”
“Everything else about him is completely normal,” Penelope said passionately. “He runs, he jumps, he eats. He even reads, I think.”
Colin turned to her in surprise. “He does?”
“I believe so,” Penelope said. “I saw him with William’s primer last week.”
“He was probably just looking at the illustrations,” Colin said gently.
“That’s what I thought, but then I watched his eyes! They were moving back and forth, following the words.”
They both turned to Daphne, as if she might have all the answers.
“I suppose he might be reading,” Daphne said, feeling rather inadequate. She wanted to have all the answers. She wanted to say something to them other than I suppose or Perhaps. “He’s rather young, but there’s no reason he couldn’t be reading.”
“He’s very bright,” Penelope said.
Colin gave a look that was mostly indulgent. “Darling . . .”
“He is! And William read when he was four. Agatha, too.”
“Actually,” Colin admitted thoughtfully, “Agatha did start to read at three. Nothing terribly involved, but I know she was reading short words. I remember it quite well.”
“Georgie is reading,” Penelope said firmly. “I am sure of it.”
“Well, then, that means we have even less to be concerned about,” Daphne said with determined good cheer. “Any child who is reading before his third birthday will have no trouble speaking when he is ready to do so.”
She had no idea if this was actually the case. But she rather thought it ought to be. And it seemed reasonable. And if Georgie turned out to have a stutter, just like Simon, his family would still love him and adore him and give him all the support he needed to grow into the wonderful person she knew he would be.
He’d have everything Simon hadn’t had as a child.
“It will be all right,” Daphne said, leaning forward to take Penelope’s hand in hers. “You’ll see.”
Penelope’s lips pressed together, and Daphne saw her throat tighten. She turned away, wanting to give her sister-in-law a moment to compose herself. Colin was munching on