Gillian grinned but then noticed Mater was entirely in earnest. “Did he actually?”
“Oh, he did indeed.” Mater’s eyes danced with the memory. “And it is quite a remarkable story.”
Sarah laughed. “I don’t think there is a single member of this family who doesn’t have an entire slew of ‘remarkable stories.’” She leaned closer to Gillian. “You can imagine how much fun it is to live in this neighborhood, where there are so many Jonquils.”
“It must be delightful.” She and Scott both needed that feeling of family. There had to be a way to keep hold of it. There simply had to be.
“Caroline,” Sarah said, “will you help your grandmother look after these little ones? I’d like to take Gillian on an adventure.”
Caroline nodded. “Uncle Flip says we should never interfere with an adventure in the making.”
“Philip is very wise.” Sarah spoke solemnly but with a smile tipping her lips.
“Enjoy yourselves,” Mater said, her arms too full for any sort of goodbye wave.
Sarah hooked her arm through Gillian’s and walked with her from the nursery.
“What do you have planned?” Gillian asked.
Sarah shook her head. “I can’t tell you, otherwise this would not be a proper kidnapping.”
“And you always undertake very proper kidnappings?”
“Always.”
Harold was waiting with a pony cart in front of the house when Sarah and Gillian arrived there. He executed a decorous bow, and for a moment, Gillian thought he was unaware of how their activities had been described by his wife.
“This is the most tranquil abduction I’ve ever witnessed,” he said.
“Have you witnessed quite a few, then?” Gillian pressed, knowing she likely wasn’t hiding her ever-growing amusement.
“I’m a Jonquil. I’ve seen it all.”
They were quickly situated in the pony cart with Harold driving, Sarah seated beside him, and Gillian comfortable on a blanket in the back. “Do you truly mean to not tell me what you two have planned?”
“We’re bound for Sarvol House,” Sarah said.
“Truly?” She’d not seen Scott all day—not at all, in fact, since their walk on the grounds the day before.
“Before you grow too excited,” Sarah said, “Scott will be away from the house today. But that is why we are undertaking this bit of mischief.”
“Whatbit of mischief?”
“Take pity on her, dear,” Harold said.
Sarah turned a bit on the cart bench and looked back at Gillian. “I’ve arranged with Mr. Tanner, the butler at Sarvol House—we’ve known him and his wife since we were children—to bring down a few things from the attics, items that aren’t being used but that also aren’t likely to fetch Scott a price and, therefore, aren’t needed for selling.”
“And what are we meant to do with these things?”
“He spends most of his time each day in the drawing room, as it is the only room outside of his bedchamber that is still in use. But it was rather hastily adjusted to suit the many purposes it now serves, and it feels haphazard.”
Gillian could not argue against that.
“I am hopeful that if we take some time to make adjustments, add in a few baubles and paintings and things that would make the space more inviting, it would make a difference. Scott is working so hard to save what our uncle worked hard to destroy.”
“I have my suspicions your uncle tried to destroy Scott himself.”
Sarah nodded, heaviness settling over her. “Our uncle was a horrible person. Living with him tore Scott to pieces. He was so broken that I almost didn’t recognize my brother any longer.He’s been better since our uncle died but still not the same. Since meeting you though . . .” Sarah’s smile quivered with emotion. “He’s himself again. I suspect he’ll always be a little more somber than he was, but he’s happy and hopeful like he used to be. He’s Scott, and I’ve missed him so much.”