Josephine grabbed his arm. “You’re up to something.”
“Me? Never.” He smiled, his cheeks burning. In a few hours, she would enter her chambers and behold his gesture, all his emotions gathered, strung, and displayed like bunting.
“Do not fib, Mr. Welby. Set a good example for your cousin.”
“I don’t mind,” Fitz said. “Besides, not talking isn’t fibbing.”
“Right you are, Fitz. Thank you.” Elias winked at Josephine. “I’m not talking.” He liked to tease her, for she gave theatrical responses—she touched him, she gazed into his eyes as if he were a pool filled with bright things.
“You’re cheeky. I do not fancy you at all,” Josephine said through a grin. Her fingers slipped off Elias’s forearm and fell to her side. A week had passed since Sebastian and Widow De Clare left for London, but Josephine had yet to act like herself. She remained indoors. She declined Elias’s invitations.
Elias understood her distance. For days he’d paced his study and wondered if he should leave Cadwallader Park after Christmas. He’d written his father and asked to travel south. But he’d changed his mind. Again. Because he knew he could love Josephine and not end up with her. He could make her happy without fending for his own happiness.
“Oh, really? You dislike my company?” Elias sighed. “Blazes, I was convinced you adored me. How embarrassing.” He pocketed his hands and sauntered toward his study while Josephine laughed. Yes, he would pursue his father’s approval, and she would marry his cousin. They would live apart, but for this moment, they were together. And a moment seemed enough.
“Run on ahead,” Josephine told Fitz. “I put tea and biscuits in the fort.”
“I daresay you’ve won his affections,” Elias said once the boy sped down the corridor.
“He would like you, too, if you stopped flinging him around.”
“Fitz likes me.” Elias scoffed. “He likes to be flung.”
Josephine held Elias’s gaze, her face beaming. She retreated to his study and leaned against its door frame, then motioned for him to enter the room. “Promise not to have a fit.”
“Did you rearrange my furniture, again?” Elias stepped into the chamber and froze, his body cloaked in warmth from the fireplace, the aromas of spiced biscuits and evergreen.
Between the desk and bookcase, Kitty lounged in a fort constructed from blankets and novels. Paper chains drooped from the ceiling. Candles dotted the shelves. No longer did the chamber resemble a library. Josephine had transformed the space into a wonderland.
“What do you think?” Josephine pranced to the room’s centre and twirled. She had volunteered to entertain the Darling children so Miss Karel could spend the day with her suitor. Without the governess’s supervision, and with Mr. and Mrs. Darling visiting a neighbour, the children’s playtime could refrain from sensibility.
“You’re a superb governess,” Elias said. He wouldn’t forget the sight, for perfect moments were rare, and they never repeated themselves. They came like snowflakes. Soon this moment would melt and his study would grow dim.
“Sit next to me, Elias.” Kitty patted an embroidered cushion. She giggled as he ambled toward the fort. “I think Miss De Clare is a pixie.”
“Of course. If we ask nicely, maybe she’ll fly around for us.” Elias crawled beneath the quilted canopy and collapsed onto a pillow.
“Is this our new playroom?” Fitz asked. He sprawled on the velvet settee with biscuits piled on his belly. “I like it better than the nursery.”
“No, all this shall disappear at midnight, so we must endeavour to enjoy ourselves.” Josephine climbed onto the desk as if it were a stage. “Do you want to hear a story?”
“I don’t like stories,” Fitz said.
“Nonsense. You just haven’t heard the right story.” Josephine tossed her shawl to the floor and marched across the desk. “Close your eyes. You too, Elias.”
He buried his face in a cushion to make the children laugh.
“What do you see?” Josephine whispered.
“Darkness,” Kitty said.
“Use your imagination.”
“I see a pirate ship and yellow flowers.” Fitz cracked open his eyes and snickered when Elias glared at him.
“Open your eyes. We’re now on a pirate ship covered in yellow flowers.” Josephine hopped off the desk and retrieved a paper hat from a bookshelf. She perched it upon her head, then yanked Fitz from the settee. “Captain Darling, what is our destination?”
“Uh, we’re sailing to Antarctica.” He pointed at Elias. “Get off your bum, First Officer Welby. We need to stop the polar bears before they eat the princess.”
Josephine cackled—the way she laughed was pure magic. She looked at Elias, and her expression softened. Did she ache the way he ached? Was she overwhelmed with the same happiness and sorrow? Oh, if she felt his chest, she’d know she had bewitched him, for his heart raced in her presence. He could not love by halves. He was hers in full.
“Should we use the polar bear nets, Captain?” Elias scrambled out of the fort and joined the enactment. For hours he played with Josephine and his cousins, participating in sword fights and tea parties. He wore a paper hat. He danced with Kitty. He and Josephine smacked each other with pillows until one burst, snowing goose feathers.
The library once held Elias captive. Now it set him free. Its darkness gave way to dozens of candles. Its silence became laughter. No more hiding. He was seen.
“You’re my horse, Elias,” Kitty said. “Get on your hands and knees.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and tackled him to the floor.
“Why can’t I play the sleeping princess?” He squirmed across the rug until his arms fatigued. “Dismount. This horse needs rest.”
“Pirate attack!” Fitz leapt off a chair and pounded Elias with a cushion. It exploded like the others, spraying feathers across the room.
Josephine extended her arms as fluff rained from above. “I’ll clean up the mess, First Officer Welby.” She sat next to Elias and plucked feathers out of his hair.
“Don’t bother. I
