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“Sweetheart, you saw me three days ago,” Graeme replied. “Besides, your da is right. We’re having a right serious conversation about work.”
Maggie brightened up. “Oh, did you have to give someone a drubbing or haul them off to the clink?”
Graeme managed to choke down a laugh. It was no mystery how Maggie picked up her colorful vocabulary. The household servants were either retired spies or still on active service. They protected the St. George household and acted as Aden’s eyes and ears throughout London. While they doted on Vivien and the children and would give their lives for them, more than a few could be described as rough about the edges.
Aden tried to establish a normal atmosphere in the house for the sake of his wife and children. Normal, however, would never apply to the seemingly quiet townhouse off Cadogan Square.
“Darling, you mustn’t use cant,” Vivien said. “Papa doesn’t like it.”
Aden directed a paternally stern look at his daughter. “Young ladies mustn’t use rough language, sweetheart. It’s not proper.”
Maggie looked perplexed. “But Papa, you say words like that all the time, and you’re a gentleman. Why do gentlemen get to say fun things and ladies don’t?”
“I say,” said Graeme, “I’d like to know the answer to that one, too.”
Vivien cut off her husband’s impending lecture. “It’s because Papa is a spy, Maggie. Spies say all sorts of odd things.”
Aden stared at his wife in disbelief. “Vivien St. George, spy isnota term we use in this household.”
“Oh, pish. Maggie would have to be very dim not to notice all the clandestine activities, and my daughter is very far from dim.”
“That is not a reassuring answer,” Aden replied.
“I’m very good at keeping secrets, Papa,” Maggie said in a solemn tone. “I want to be a spy just like you some day, so I practice very hard to keepallthe secrets.”
Aden covered his eyes.
“You’re certainly very good at making up stories, which is a useful attribute in a spy,” Vivien said. “Just this morning, you told me that Justin broke your rocking horse.”
The little girl’s chin stubbornly tilted. “But he did, Mamma.”
“Hmm, I wonder how your little brother managed to do that, since he was sleeping, and you were actuallyonthe rocking horse at the time.”
Maggie crinkled her nose. “Did Nurse tell you that? Maybe she needs new spectacles.”
Graeme couldn’t help it. He had to laugh. “Aye, you’ll make a grand spy, lass. You already know how to tell a whopper with a straight face.”
Her chubby cheeks split into a happy grin. “Thank you, Uncle Graeme.”
Aden’s glare threatened dire consequences.
“Do not encourage her, you idiot.” Then Aden switched his irate gaze to his wife. “Vivien . . .”
She took pity on her beleaguered husband. “Maggie, say good-bye to Uncle Graeme, and then you can have breakfast with Nurse and your brother.”
Maggie breathed out a gusty sigh. “Do I have to? Justin always makes a mess.”
“He’s only three, darling, and he’s a boy. Messes are what they do.”
Graeme dropped a kiss on top of Maggie’s bright curls. “Your mam is right, lass. I’m a grown man, and I still make messes.”
“That is certainly true,” Aden sarcastically replied. “Speaking of the latest one, I assume Lady Sabrina is now safely on her way home?”
“Maggie and I sent her off in the carriage just before we came to see you,” Vivien said. “She extended her regards and thanks to both you and Graeme.”
“I’m the one who did all the work,” Graeme said. “You’d think she could at least make a proper good-bye.”
Vivien wriggled a hand. “She was embarrassed, and so preferred to slip out. I know she’s very grateful.”
