water. He refrained. This was all part of Rae’s plan of making him more comfortable around children, he knew. A skill he’d need someday if he were to have spawn of his own. He cocked his head to the side and studied Rae. What would her children be like? The answer came to him a half-second later when a little girl weighing no more than five and a half stones nearly pulled his arm out of the socket, yanking him in the direction of the door.
Auburn ringlets, rosy cheeks, a wide, unabashed grin, and not an ounce of shyness in her form. That’s exactly what Rae’s daughter would be like.
Simon squeezed the girl’s hand and started walking with her. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”
Outside, a small passel of urchins were waiting for the trio. Silently, Simon counted their number. Six, seven with the one holding his hand. Unease built in his gut.
“Simon, allow me to formally introduce you to all of my brothers and sisters.” As if sensing his discomfort, she placed her hand on his arm and sent him an encouraging smile. “In order,” she said to the brood.
With a few grumbles, the little urchins formed a line.
“This is Peter,” she said, pointing to the first boy who’d referred to Simon as a toff as soon as they’d disembarked the carriage. “He’s the eldest at fifteen.” Rae pointed at the next four boys in line, the ones who’d come barreling out of the house as soon as the door had been opened. “Lucas, Samuel who you’ve already had the pleasure of exchanging words with. That one is Joseph and that little imp is Jacob.”
Simon nodded to each of the boys. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“And you’ve already met Jane,” Rae said with a wink.
The little girl held her hand out toward Simon.
He dutifully obliged and was greeted by another dirty hand to kiss.
“This is Dara, she’s six,” Rae said when Simon was done kissing her hand.
Simon murmured a greeting to the two little girls, though he didn’t know why. He’d just kissed their hands for heaven's sake!
“Is this all?” He prayed his voice sounded smoother to their ears than his own.
“All that are safe to meet,” Samuel said, swallowing hard. He bowed his head and gave it a little shake. “Mama had Peter and me tie up Isaac behind the house this morning when he started foaming at the mouth during breakfast.”
Simon didn’t know what to make of the stoic boy’s statement. Was he funning Simon or was there a rabid boy tied up behind the house? Simon looked to Rae, but she gave nothing away.
“’Tis a pity,” Simon drawled. He crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels. “Boy would have fetched many a shiny coins at Covent Gardens.”
“Covent Gardens?” Jane asked.
“It’s where all the addled of London gather to show their skills and oddities to amuse the masses and make some coin.”
“Is that were Mrs. Saxon went?” asked Joseph.
Simon didn’t know who Mrs. Saxon was, but Rae must have for she’d developed a coughing fit. “No,” she wheezed between coughs.
“That’s too bad,” Lucas said, shaking his head. “Lord Sinclair could have made a fortune on her.”
Simon started. He knew Lord Sinclair. He was England’s most notorious recluse. Jilted and scarred as a young lad, he’d only recently started coming to London. Whether it was to appease his wife who was fast friends with Lady Watson and of course Lady Drakely or to visit his sister at the asylum, Simon didn’t know. Understanding took root. “Ah, Mrs. Saxon.” Formerly Lady Olivia Sinclair, before running away to the Americas with a commoner, was right where she needed to be. “No, Covent Gardens is more of a place for ladies with beards and men who juggle daggers and swallow swords with flaming tips.”
“Ladies with beards?” Dara said in awe. Her grey eyes lit. “Mayhap that’s where Sarah Groggins got the blunt for her new pianoforte.”
Rae choked again. “Mayhap,” she agreed. “Let’s play bowls.”
“Shall we use Isaac as the jack?” Simon asked.
“Er…Simon,” Rae said cautiously. “Isaac doesn’t exist.”
Simon made his eyes flare wide. “No? Hmmm, then shall we make his creator the jack?” he asked, looking right at Samuel.
Samuel shook his head wildly.
Simon grinned at the lad. “Afraid I’ll leave a knot on your leg to match the one I left on your head?”
Samuel’s four brothers laughed.
“I like him, Henny,” Peter said, still chuckling. “He’s much better than Fish Face.”
Henny? Fish Face? Simon swung his gaze to