Chapter 18
“Which ones do you like?” Caroline asked, looking down at the little boy standing between her and Jeremy.
George continued to stare at the invitation samples before him as he stroked his little chin, as if he were about to make the most serious decision of his life.
It had been almost a week since Jeremy had joined them, and Caroline had been delighted with how quickly he had bonded with the boy.
If he had any reservations about the child, he certainly did not show it.
Instead, he had allowed George to help with the preparations for the ball, which in turn had brought him even further out of his shell.
In fact, the entire household, including herself, appeared to breathe a little easier with his presence.
He always seemed to go for a jest as often as possible, and he had a way of noticing things about people that made them feel seen.
A compliment about a maid’s new hairstyle or the housekeeper’s fine embroidery on her collar was enough to make them all giggle, blush, and insist he not distract them so.
“I-I like this one,” George stated at last, picking up the middle invitation.
Jeremy snapped his fingers as he grinned and did a little dance that had both George and Caroline giggling.
The invitation’s thick paper was light gray, with a brilliant blue, elegant script font that stood out beautifully against the darker paper.
The edges were trimmed in gold, and a miniature silk ribbon cravat that matched the blue ink sat at the top center of the invitation.
“You are a man of taste, my boy,” Jeremy praised excitedly. “That is precisely the one I wanted!”
“Well done, Georgie,” Caroline added cheerfully.
George’s answering smile was brilliant, and his shoulders, which now had a little more meat to them, squared as he puffed out his chest with pride.
“So when is the party?” George asked. “May I attend?”
“Two weeks from tomorrow,” Jeremy answered, then his bright green eyes grew sympathetic as he crouched down to be level with George.
“However, I unfortunately must say that the ball is only for adults. Do not worry, though, I will ensure that a very large platter of treats is taken up to your room. How does that sound?”
Though George looked disappointed at not being able to come to the party, he gave a nod.
“I do like treats,” he admitted. “I suppose that is good enough.”
“There’s a good lad,” Jeremy praised, and as he patted the boy’s shoulder, Caroline noted that George did not flinch.
He has come so very far. Perhaps when his parents are found, and it is time for me to leave, I should try to host him a little party of his own.
The thought of leaving Ravenshaw House made her sadder than she thought possible, and she quickly shooed away the thought. She was having too much fun with Jeremy and George and did not want to dampen the day.
“Shall we move on to our next task?” Caroline asked, reaching for the list Jeremy gave her a few days ago.
“We have the orchestra booked, the extra maids and footmen hired, and now the invitations,” she read off the list. “Should we move on to the dance cards? And then perhaps we should create the menu?”
“Excellent,” Jeremy agreed with gusto.
“Come along, lad,” he then said, guiding George to another nearby table. “You did so well with the invitations, I have no doubt you will do even better with the dance cards.”
As the early afternoon ticked by toward evening, the three of them worked together to tackle the list. After the dance cards were picked and the menu was set, they moved on to the floral arrangements and decorations.
Jeremy kept Caroline and George laughing with how picky he had been with them, especially the flowers.
He wanted white roses, but not a specific shade.
Even she had not realized how many shades of white there were.
Then there were the lilies to choose, what variety and color, and then the large gladiolas and hydrangeas.
Before Caroline knew it, the sun was starting to set over the house.
“Good heavens, we almost worked past supper!” she exclaimed.
“Not supper!” Jeremy gasped, feigning great offense as he pressed a hand to his chest. “That would explain the weakness I feel in my legs.”
He turned his head to George and gave him a ghastly look, and the boy laughed so purely and loudly that tears of happiness threatened to spring from Caroline’s eyes.
“Come, lad, we cannot have ourselves wasting away when we have so much yet to accomplish. To the dining room!” Jeremy instructed, holding out his hand to the boy.
Caroline watched as George hesitated for a moment, looking from Jeremy’s offered hand up to his eyes.
“C-Cece and I have never eaten in t-the dining room before,” George explained, looking to her for assurance.
Though Jeremy’s smile remained in place, his brows furrowed in confusion as he looked to Caroline as well, his expression asking for confirmation.
“We normally take our meals together in Georgie’s room,” Caroline explained. “Or sometimes on the back patio near the gardens.”
“Why?” Jeremy asked.
Caroline opened her mouth to speak, but she realized something. Damien had never encouraged them to eat in the dining room with him, but he had never insisted they eat away from him either. She had just assumed that it was what he had wanted. It was the nature of their contract, after all.
“I suppose I do not know,” she finally replied with a little shrug.
“Hmm. Well, tonight we remedy that,” Jeremy replied, looking from her to George. “What do you say, young man? Come and have dinner at the table like a big lad?”
After another moment of hesitation, a look of determination settled in George’s dark brown eyes, and he gave an assertive nod as he took Jeremy’s hand.
“There’s a good boy,” Jeremy praised, tugging him along at his side. “Come along, dear Cece!” Jeremy half-sang, half-yelled over his shoulder. “We shan’t be late for supper!”
Unable to stop herself from giggling at the man’s silly nature, she hurried to catch up to them and took George’s other hand.
Jeremy then looked over at Caroline and winked, and as if she knew precisely what he meant, she lifted up George’s arm at the same time as Jeremy did, and gave him a little swing as his feet lifted up in the air.
A mirthful giggle erupted from George as his feet touched the ground.
“Oh! Again, please!” he asked excitedly.
“Our little master has spoken,” Jeremy agreed, and once again, he and Caroline lifted George at the same time, letting him kick off the ground a little so that his swing had more momentum.
Laughter echoed through the great hall as they played their little game all the way to the dining room.
When they finally arrived, Caroline and Jeremy lifted the boy for one last swing, but this time George neither kicked up his feet nor laughed.
He simply stared straight ahead, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly open.
“Georgie?” Caroline asked, immediately concerned. “Jeremy, put him down. Georgie, what is wrong?”
Jeremy obeyed at once, and Caroline and he both crouched down to try to get the little boy’s attention.
“What happened to him?” Damien’s deep voice resounded in the dining room.
Startled by his presence, Caroline looked toward the direction from which his voice came and immediately understood what had happened to George.
Though Caroline found his black clothes fitting and his usual serious expression handsome, she still remembered how nervous she herself used to be around him.
It had been quite a few days since the two had seen one another, and even though George had been brave at the pond, the moment had been brief.
“I-I-I am s-sorry,” George stammered.
Damien, who must have entered the dining room from the opposite door, rounded the table and came to hunker down before George to meet his eyes.
Caroline could feel the little boy start to quiver, and she wished she could do something to show him that he was safe.
Before she could think of anything, though, Damien spoke again.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, George.”
Caroline let out a breath of relief. Damien’s tone was assertive, but kind, and a gentleness had stolen over his usual hard gaze.
“Perhaps it is I who should say sorry to you,” Damien continued, shocking Caroline even further. “Did I scare you?”
Caroline pressed her lips together as she watched the moment unfold.
George silently nodded his head, and Damien nodded right along with him.
“Y-you w-were hitting a man,” George stuttered out.
“You were hitting a man? Here? In your house in front of the boy?” Jeremy asked in a hissed whisper.
“I was,” Damien admitted, ignoring Jeremy’s question. “And I should have explained why. You see, I was participating in a sport called boxing.”
“Oh, thank heavens,” Jeremy muttered, tipping his head back in relief.
“B-boxing?” George asked.
Caroline watched, letting the moment unfold as Damien nodded.
“It looks quite a bit like hitting, I know, but the truth is, it is a sort of game that men play,” Damien explained, holding up two fingers.
“There are two people per match, and the goal is not only to evade and block your opponent, but also to hit him harder than he can hit you. To be good at it, you have to practice, and that is what you saw that day. That man I was hitting? He is a good friend of mine. His name is Adrian, and I would never hurt him.”
George seemed to take a minute to process all of this new information, but Caroline noticed that he had stopped trembling. Hope flickered in her chest, and she waited.
“You… hit each other? On p-purpose?” George asked.
“We do,” Damien admitted. “It is a great exercise. It teaches a man stealth, strength, and is a great way to let out frustrations.”
“Frustrations?” George asked. “What does this mean?”