Page 37 of Undercover with the Heiress
Phineas pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘But why are all these small peoplehere?’
‘I was lining them up to take them to see the ducks, but the weather turned dark before we’d crossed the street, and we don’t need any more sniffly noses than we already have. Rosie—I mean, your wife, Mrs Babbage—said to bring them over. I can take them home if it’s a problem, although heaven knows how I’ll keep the noise down. They’ve been as worried as poor mistress, although they don’t show it in the same way. You don’t mind, do you?’
He did mind. He liked quiet. And peace. He had been staring at columns all day, and right now, he needed to think about transport and shipping routes to chase his hunch about Argonauts into proof or obsolescence. Phineas shoved his umbrella into the stand. ‘Do you need anything?’
Nanny Abigail shook her head. ‘Felix has been ever so helpful. He’s brilliant, isn’t he? He has the children in the dining room having a picnic. He really loves his work.’
‘Sir!’ Felix, bounding down the hallway, pulled to a stop before the entry. He wore a hat folded from newspaper, and as he twisted direction, it slipped to one side. ‘Can I take your coat? This afternoon, we moved your hook and made a cloak room. It was Letitia’s idea. Look!’ He swung open the door into the room behind the entrance. Phineas peeked around the corner. A row of red coats and scarves lined the wall. Felix slung Phineas’s black coat onto a hanger and hung it on the rail. ‘We are having tea in the dining room. Hugh and I rolled out blankets because the table is too small, and we are pretending to dineen plain air, so that everyone has space to sit and eat. Would you like to join us?’
Before Phineas could reply, Felix, hollering as a small troop of children dragged him out of sight, was swept from view.
Phineas leant into the lobby. Raucous laughter and calls echoed down the hall. He shuffled along a little further.
‘Are you going to join them?’ Nanny Abigail asked.
‘No.’
‘Not even for tea? Jean has made shortcake and sandwiches.’
‘Especially not. I will be in the library.’
‘Suit yourself. I’ve been run ragged all day, and I am itching for some food. I’ll tell Felix to send something in, shall I?’
Nanny Abigail left, but Phineas was not alone. A small boy, his height in between the tiny dancing one and an adult, stared up at him. He had dark hair like Lawrence, freckles like Rosanna, and a sombre expression. He thrust his right hand at Phineas, then swapped it for his left, before deciding on his right again. ‘Good afternoon. I am Amadeus. I’m ten.’
‘Congratulations.’ Phineas stepped out of the lobby and into the hall, away from the commotion at the back of the house and towards the sacredness of his library.
‘That’s not how it goes.’ The child, indignant, trotted behind him. ‘After I introduce myself, you introduce yourself.’
‘Phineas Babbage,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘We are not strangers. We’ve lived beside each other for seven years.’
‘We have, but we’ve never been formally introduced.’ The boy scooted around, jostling him to the side, then pulled up short, squarely in Phineas’s way and obscuring his path. He offered his hand again. Phineas took it and gave it one swift shake. ‘Pleased to meet you, Phineas Babbage,’ the child said. ‘Your house is very noisy.’
‘Why don’t you tell them to be quiet?’ Phineas flicked his fingers. ‘Go on. Shoo.’
He sidestepped the medium Hempel and finally crossed over the threshold to his library. But as he turned to shut the door, the child popped up in the centre of the room. How did he move so fast?
‘Uncle Phin…’
Phineas glowered down. ‘I am not your uncle.’
‘Who are you, then?’
‘I am your brother-in-law. Of sorts. I suppose.’
‘Oh,’ Amadeus said, his voice thick with disappointment.
Phineas spun to the bookshelf and investigated the presented spines. Railways… the Midlands… handbooks… guides… where were his maps? He tapped through the books and scanned the embossed titles. Then he stopped to look down at the child. ‘What do you mean, “Oh?”’
‘Nothing.’ The boy flopped to the floor and crossed his legs. ‘It’s just, I’ve already got so many brothers, but no uncles. I always thought it might be nice to have one of those. Someoneto take me to the park and show me how to shoot, like in a boy’s own adventure.’
‘People don’t shoot in the park.’
‘Oh,’ Amadeus said, even more disappointed than he had been before. ‘I suppose it doesn’t matter that I don’t have an uncle.’ He plucked at the rug, then scuffed his heel against the edge.
Phineas turned back to the bookcase. ‘What number are you?’ he asked, half over his shoulder.
‘My name is Amadeus. I have no number,’ the boy replied, frowning.
