Simon glared at the boy. “My shoulder was dislocated at the time.”
“Butsheput ‘im on ‘is knees.” Lillie grinned with feminine pride.
Sir Williamson said, “I’m not on my knees, I’m simply catching my breath.” Then he pointed at Robbi. “And I caught you red-handed.”
“I wasn’t done with you yet,” Ailsa remarked.
Sir Williamson reached over and picked up his hat and other belongings and then slowly got to his feet, standing at his full height once again. The man really was a giant. He combed his unruly hair back from his face and leaves scattered to the floor in its wake. He narrowed his eyes at Ailsa.
“Can we move to the actual drawing room, please?” Simon’s tone brimmed with irritation.
Caillen clapped her hands. “Girls, go to the nursery, now. Sébastien, I expect you to lead the way.” She turned to Simon. “Don’t you think you should make some introductions?”
“If you mean, should I introduce you to the head of the War Office, yes, I suppose I should, but not until we are in the drawing room.”
“Cor!” The girls exclaimed and then ran after Sébastien when Simon gave them a stern look that said there would be more consequences if they did not listen.
“You do that look very well,” Caillen said, a smile twitching at her lips.
“I’ve had years of practice with my siblings.”
“Any suggestions on how to clean up the girl’s language?”
“No. My mother’s method was to make me dance with my sisters. It didn’t work.”
“How wonderful for your sisters.”
“Perhaps…until I stepped on their feet.”
“On purpose?”
“What else was I supposed to do in order to be excused from the task?”
“That’s terrible.” A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“I was a boy.”
“A terrible boy,” she corrected.
“All boys are terrible,” Robbi piped up as she scooted out from behind Ailsa and edged past Sir Williamson, who was holding out his hand toward the hallway for Ailsa to precede him.
“So, if I make the girls dance with Sébastien, what will you tell him to ensure he doesn’t step on their feet?” Caillen asked.
“Why is Sébastien going to be punished?”
“He’s not being punished.” She insisted.
“Being forced to dance is not a punishment?”
“Are you saying you still view dancing as a punishment?”
“It depends on the lady. My sisters, yes.” Simon winked. “You, absolutely not.”
Caillen bit back a smile and handed him his crutch.
They suddenly became aware of Ailsa standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. “Are we interrupting? I thought we were moving to the drawing room?”
“I cannot because you are blocking my ability to cross through the doorway with my crutch.”
