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question.
    “If you wish, my lord...” Miss Oliver’s gaze led his to the little girl, who patiently held up the boat.
    He reached down. When the child grasped his hand as he took the wooden ship from hers, he was startled how small her fingers were. The last tiny hand he had held was Susanna’s...right on this shore that horrible day.
    “In water,” Lulu said when he hesitated.
    He motioned for her to lead the way, then asked Miss Oliver, “Are they always so bossy?”
    “Always.” She smiled.
    His lungs compressed, but he could not release his breath when her face shone as if she had swallowed sunlight. Her curls emphasized her high cheekbones, which were burnished by the breeze to a deeper pink. He was tempted to tell her to stop attempting to make herself look plain, because those efforts were futile and a waste of time.
    “I had no idea that you were at the mercy of miniature despots,” he said, knowing he must not keep staring at her in silence.
    “Fortunately, they are benevolent despots.” She laughed. “As long as they are fed on time, have plenty of toys to play with and can negotiate a few extra minutes before bed.” She stepped aside as he went with Lulu to the water’s edge. “Hold on to the string before you place the ship in the water. As you know, the currents are tricky here.”
    Lulu confidently squatted and looked up, gesturing toward the sea. She could not understand why he was hesitating. The sight of a little girl at the water’s edge, unaware of the danger awaiting her if she went in too deeply, sliced into him like a fiery sword.
    Maybe the whole of this outing was a mistake. He should excuse himself and return to Cothaire. Yet he had given Carrie his word that he would make an effort to get to know the children. These experiences would prove worthwhile if Gwendolyn really wanted him to marry her. He wished he could ask her, but doing so in a coded note was not the way.
    Miss Oliver came to his rescue when she took the ship and placed it in the water. The toy bobbed on the waves. Rising, she glanced at him, then nodded toward Lulu before she went to check on the other three. She gently herded the children closer so they were within arm’s reach.
    He looked down at the little girl in front of him. What should he say to her?
    “Ask her the name of her ship,” Miss Oliver whispered.
    He nodded, then paused so long that she repeated her instructions. He was tempted to fire back that he had heard her the first time. Instead, he asked, “What do you call your ship, Lulu?”
    “Pony.”
    “Why?”
    “
Pony
pwances.” She smiled.
    He took a moment to figure out the word her lisp distorted. “Ah, I see. A pony prances like your ship does.”
    She did not answer as she drew the toy closer to her before letting it drift on the current again.
    Miss Oliver edged closer, but kept watching her charges. “See? It isn’t hard to talk with children.” Suddenly she gasped and sped past him.
    He turned to see Bertie chasing his boat’s string, which had come loose from his wrist. The child tried to grab the end, but the waves pulled it across the flat rocks toward deep water.
    Arthur did not hesitate. He ran across the slick stones. His boots slid, but he kept going. Passing Miss Oliver, whose dreary bonnet bounced on her back, he heard her shout the child’s name.
    So did the little boy. He turned and teetered on the edge of a rock.
    She screamed.
    Arthur threw himself toward the child, grabbing his arm. His right foot skidded as he pulled Bertie to him. A hot spear pierced his knee as he fell with the boy on top of him. Arthur’s breath burst out painfully.
    Miss Oliver scooped the little boy off him and hugged him. “Bertie, you must not leave the shore.”
    “Boat go.”
    “We have others. Let it go. Maybe it will reach Cap’s ship.” She carried him to shore where the other children were watching, wide-eyed.
    Arthur winced as he pushed himself up to sit. Every bone had jarred when