“Jonas, if you had moved the sofa and dusted the floor there, I think you might have won this round, but as it is Beverly’s socks are by far dirtier.”
“I’ll do it now!” the boy shot to his feet skidding across the parquet floor on his stocking feet until he came to rest against the bent wood sofa. Grasping the end, he pushed the sofa onto the Persian rug then scooted his feet up and down over the hard wood floor until it shown.
“Now look!” he gasped flopping onto the sofa and lifting his dirty feet into the air.
“Beverly, I think he’s got you beat now.” Hester sighed. “It is a shame too, you were doing so well.”
Bev shot to her feet giving her brother a glare, just as Cecil and Mrs. August burst through the door.
“What’s happened?” the housekeeper demanded. We heard a terrible noise.”
“We’re playing a game,” the children both replied, looking up at their uncle and the housekeeper, the turning on each other.
“I’m winning!” Jonas shouted, sticking his tongue out at his sister.
“What sort of game?” Mrs. August asked staring at the room. All of the newspapers that had been scattered about earlier were neatly rolled and stacked in the kindling bin. The toys were neatly stacked in the hall, and not a trace of discarded clothing could be seen.
“Hester is teaching us.” Beverly said. “She didn’t think we could do it because we’ve always had someone to help, but we showed her.” The girl shot Hester a haughty look full of pride.
“Yeah, we showed her,” Jonas stepped up beside his sister crossing his arms over his chest. “But I’m winning.”
“You have both done very well,” Hester agreed. “Of course the first one to get all of the toys and clothing back up stairs would undoubtedly be the winner, of course if it is too hard for you.” She moved toward the door as if to do the job herself.
Both children dashed for the hall snatching as many toys and other items as they could carry and racing for the stairs.
“Well I never!” Mrs. August huffed.
“No, I don’t suppose you did,” Hester replied, blue eyes snapping. “Has anyone ever considered putting those two to work before? Perhaps, if they had something to occupy their days, they wouldn’t be in the way.”
Cecil felt the grin spread across his face. The young woman had held her own against his nearest kin for nearly an hour already. Perhaps there was hope that they would make it through this day yet.
If Miss Hester could only keep Jonas and Beverly out of the way for a few more hours, he was sure all would be well.
“Mr. Payton,” a man in a black suit stepped through the door. “Your cousin Abel is here.”
Chapter 3
Cecil sighed with relief. His cousin, a man who had been working with his brother, the original owner of the business, for years, stepped into the parlor with a smile.
Abel knew far more about the business than Cecil did and hopefully, could bring him up to speed before dinner that night. Until three months ago, Cecil had been wandering the wilds of the west, not sitting through boring dinners, or business meetings. Always a restless soul, he had set out to explore the vast reaches of the country while his older brother had become a staunch businessman and wealthy entrepreneur.
When Cecil’s brother and sister-in-law had been killed in a terrible train accident, he had suddenly become the sole heir of both their wealth and spoiled children.
To say the transition was overwhelming was an understatement at best. He had been completely unprepared for the intricate snags and snares of business, not to mention the care of two children whose world had been shaken to the ground.
The fancy house, servants, and confines of the city pressed in on him like the weight of the world, and unlike Atlas, Cecil felt singularly unable to keep the globe in place.
“I’ve brought the ledgers,” Abel said smiling at his cousin. “Shall we go to the office?”
Reluctantly, Cecil agreed turning to follow Abel to the one room that no one seemed eager to enter. The room was too much like his brother, orderly, cold, and precise, but it was where business was expected to be conducted, and he traipsed behind his younger cousin preparing his mind for the staggering numbers he was about to deal with.
“Is everything in order for dinner tonight?” Abel asked, smoothing his neat suit as he headed for a chair by the desk.
“Mrs. August seems to have everything in order.”
“Good, first impressions go a long way in dealing with shareholders. They have given you enough time to get things back together. Now, we’ll need to move forward with your brother’s plans.”
Cecil nodded understanding, but was uninterested in the plan. He was pondering the pretty woman who had set his wards to work in an unusual competition. Why hadn’t he ever thought of the idea?
“What about the children?” Abel asked opening a heavy leather-bound ledger onto the desk.
“I believe we have them well in hand.” Cecil smiled, curious to see if he was right.
Abel lifted his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes as he glanced at his cousin. Cecil was singularly unprepared to cope with the death of his brother and the business left to him, but his inability to manage the children, or even keep adequate staff at the house was far more worrying. Appearances were important in the city. Carver, Cecil’s brother, had been well respected as a shrewd, if hard businessman, and although his children had a reputation for being rambunctious, their little indulgences were overlooked.
Now, with everything depending on keeping the business going, Abel found himself worried that Cecil would make a complete mess of the whole thing. There was too much and too many people depending on this endeavor to go well for anything to go wrong.
“I don’t know what
