She is worth spoiling; you both are.The pitter patter of his heart calmed. He stepped back from the pile as Harriet and Phoebe approached him. His niece looked at him, smiled a small, shy smile and then looked away.
The balloon in his chest was close to bursting, he was sure of it. It pressed against his throat. “These are for you.”
Phoebe’s brow creased and she looked from him to Harriet and back to the pile of things.
“I told you we would bring you gifts.” Harriet laughed at Phoebe’s apparent disbelief, the sound soothing Theodore’s nerves. “Though we may have gotten a little overexcited. I cannot promise you will always get so much when we go away.”
Theodore said nothing. He could not think of a time where he had been so happy to spend, nor when he had felt such joy choosing gifts. He had not realized it was possible to feel that way about such things, and now that he had, he found he did not want to give it up.
He studied Phoebe’s face, watching her reaction and feeling like a child who had given their favorite person a present. His stomach burbled, his blood raced through his body and he gestured for her to open the packages, itching to see her reaction.
Carefully, and far too slowly for Theodore, she began to open the gifts. He saw her hands tremble as she fumbled at the string on the first box, watched her brow furrow in concentration, the tipof her tongue poking out of her mouth as she pried the package open.
Phoebe looked like a little owl, her eyes going wide as she pulled out a little figure of a wooden horse, then several wooden blocks, a doll, and so much more.
“These were mine, though some of them are new,” Harriet explained, pointing to several objects. “Some of them were my mother’s and her mother’s before her. That doll, for instance.”
Phoebe looked at the doll in her hands, holding it as though she feared one wrong breath would shatter it into a million tiny pieces.
“You must take good care of them.” Theodore gestured to the toys.
He kicked himself mentally, but to his surprise, Phoebe did not object, only nodded solemnly and very carefully put the doll on the sofa. She checked several times to make sure it was safe.
“They are more robust than you think. I promise.” Harriet smiled encouragingly at her. “I trust you to look after them, and your uncle does too.”
Phoebe smiled at Harriet, and pulled the dress boxes towards her. Theodore forced himself not to tap his foot on the ground but could not help flexing and unflexing his fingers. He did not want Phoebe to feel rushed.
Phoebe’s gasp of delight set every hair on his body on end. Unconsciously he straightened, still kneeling but holding himself taller as he watched her closely, his shoulders tensed with excitement.
Her fingers ran along the dress—a simple green one, perfect for every day. She looked so like his sister as she slid the fabric through her fingers. Then he saw her eyes go to Harriet, and understanding hit him.
It was a child’s sized copy of the travel dress Harriet was wearing. She had wanted Phoebe to see her in it and know that it was part of a matching set. He saw Phoebe’s lip tremble, her eyes wide as she stared at the dress.
“Would you like to try it on?” Harriet asked, and Theodore saw her gesture to Lucy.
Phoebe nodded slowly, and then let out a delighted laugh and raced from the room. Lucy ran after her, calling for her to slow down.
“I think she is a little excited.” Harriet shook her head slowly, tugging her hair free from the bun she had worn for their travels.
It cascaded over her shoulders, the sight of it drawing Theodore’s attention to her long, slender neck. He swallowed and with difficulty looked away. He ran his tongue along his lips, and a hand through his hair.
“I hope they fit her.” He glanced at the other dresses he had bought her. “I swear she has grown in the time we have been away.”
“Children do that.” Harriet shifted, but did not close the distance between them. “It is why the modiste will have hemmed it as she did. The seams will be able to be let out, so she should get a good amount of use from it.”
Before he could say anything, Phoebe appeared in the doorway. The dress was slightly too short for her, but other than that, it fit perfectly. She walked into the room, twirling and making the fabric spin around her.
Theodore felt as though his insides were moving in the same way. Phoebe stood straight, her hands curled into the fabric of her dress. He could practically hear her vibrating with excitement.
“Do you like it?” Harriet asked.
Phoebe nodded excitedly and gave Theodore and Harriet a shy smile. To his surprise, Phoebe’s eyes lingered on his face. Her hands moved in front of her, fingers twined together.
His mouth was suddenly dry. He knew she was expecting him to say something, to compliment her. His mind raced as he slowly knelt down so that he was closer to her height.
He felt Harriet brush her fingers against his shoulder, barely enough to notice, but at her touch, his muscles unknotted themselves. He saw her smiling encouragingly at him out of the corner of his eye.
Phoebe was still watching him. He swallowed and gestured to the dress. “You look lovely, Phoebe. Truly, a most beautiful young lady.”
