Joseph turned to Ellen, his brow lifting in surprise.
Ellen seemed just as surprised and delighted by the news. “Will you take us to him, then?” she asked.
“Yes,” Lady Greta said. “But you must promise to obey the rules of Darlington Gardens.”
“And what rules are those?” Joseph asked as their entire group made its way across the street to the gated garden in the center of the square.
“Firstly, you must never speak to strangers,” Katie informed them.
“You spoke to us,” Francis pointed out.
The girls looked entirely unimpressed with the comment.
“We were warning you,” Katie said with a frown. “That’s not the same as speaking. Most strangers are nice, but some do not like our friends who live here.”
“Secondly,” Lady Greta moved on, “you must listen and obey when an adult speaks to you, especially if they tell you it is time to go inside.”
“They only say that if there is someone in the square who shouldn’t be there,” the girl called Jane said quietly.
Joseph understood more than perhaps the girls did. He was beginning to see that the key to Darlington Gardens being the safe haven for a particular sort of man was the way it was insulated and protected. It was rather brilliant, if he did say so himself.
They’d entered the garden, and with a start, Joseph spotted Long at the far end, near a fountain that was framed by a flagstone walkway, bushes that likely flowered in the spring, and benches. The man had a fussing baby of about one year old in his arms. Their girlish escort was not finished explaining the rules of the square, though.
“Thirdly,” Lady Greta said, “if you see anything you aren’t supposed to see, ignore it and carry on with playing as though it didn’t happen.”
That rule was slightly alarming. Ellen and Francis thought so as well.
“What sort of things shouldn’t you see?” Francis asked.
The girls all shrugged, and they’d come close enough and made enough noise that Long noticed them all.
“Kissing mostly,” Katie answered. “But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with kissing.”
Long laughed, evidently catching on to what the conversation had been about. “There was an incident where a few of the neighbors were getting a bit too amorous in the bushes last summer,” he said as if reporting the sighting of a few playful foxes getting into mischief. “It was one incident, and it has not been repeated, but little eyes need to be trained not to see such things.”
He addressed the last comment to the girls, who all beamed at Long and answered, “Yes, Mr. Long.”
“Who have you brought me, then?” Long asked, as though addressing a passel of willful girls was an everyday occurrence in his life.
The girls suddenly looked sheepish.
“We didn’t ask their names,” Lady Greta admitted.
Long hummed and pretended to look censorious. “And what is the first rule of Darlington Gardens?” he asked.
“Don’t talk to strangers,” the four girls answered in unison.
“But they seem very nice,” Jane answered in a whisper.
“And it wasn’t talking, it was warning,” Lady Greta added.
Long laughed. “They are nice, and I already know them. Thank you for your vigilance, girls, but you can run along and play now.”
“Thank you, Mr. Long,” the girls rang out in chorus, then turned to scamper off to their play.
Joseph shook his head, baffled by the interaction. It had broken the intensity of his mission and thrown him for a loop.
“They’re good girls,” Long explained. “And they’re extraordinarily protective of the gentlemen who live here. We all are. So if you’ve come to stir up trouble for these men—”