Storing Up Trouble, стр. 81

“But I’m your brother.”

“And Theo’s my best friend, and as such, I’m compelled by that friendship to keep any secrets she may disclose to me. And before you start arguing with that, what say you give me a hand getting this boat into the water?”

Even though Stanley tossed Norman a look that had annoyance stamped all over it, he didn’t hesitate to help, pulling the boat from the wagon bed and then carrying it with Norman to the lakeshore. Gemma and Oscar immediately joined them, their eyes bright with excitement.

“Think the paddles will work the way we want them to?” Oscar asked as he dropped to the ground and peered at the paddles they’d attached to the back of the boat.

“I have no doubt the boat will operate exactly as I told you it will,” Norman returned, smiling when Gemma plopped down on her stomach beside Oscar, peering at the paddles as well.

“Aren’t you afraid the chain will rust?” she asked.

“Not unless you intend on pedaling for days, something I wouldn’t advise since the weather, with it being almost the end of October, is turning questionable.”

Gemma was on her feet a second later. “Then Oscar and I should immediately launch the boat, before that questionable weather turns up.”

“You can’t take the boat out on the water until your mother shows up, which should be in”—Norman consulted his pocket watch—“fifteen minutes.”

“That’s forever from now,” Gemma complained.

“It’s not, but to pass the time, I suggest you and Oscar go back to the wagon, give Mort a few pats to keep him in an amiable frame of mind, then get yourselves into those flotation devices I made for you.”

Gemma frowned. “Why do we have to wear those? Are you afraid the boat might sink?”

“No, but I am afraid that one of you may get distracted by an unusual fish, or a gust of wind may whip up some waves, sending you into the lake.”

“Oscar and I know how to swim.”

“You’re wearing the flotation devices and that’s that.” Norman nodded to Stanley. “Your uncle Stanley was forced to go into the water the last time the two of you went boating. I have recently read, though, that swimming is a most acceptable exercise for a gentleman to participate in, running being nowhere to be found in that book, which is a shame since it is my exercise of choice . . .”

He stopped talking when Gemma and Oscar scampered away without a single word, heading toward the wagon.

He turned to Stanley and quirked a brow.

Stanley grinned. “Children, if you’re unaware, aren’t really keen to suffer through dissertations, especially ones that have something to do with appropriate exercises for gentlemen.”

“I would think Oscar would find that fascinating, being that he’ll one day be a gentleman and will need to decide what manly exercise he should pursue.”

“He’s eight, and at the moment, the only thing he and Gemma are interested in is getting their new boat on the water. That also explains why they’re now trying to wrestle themselves into those flotation devices you made them.” Stanley nodded to where the children were doing exactly that, grinned again, then returned his attention to Norman. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re surprisingly good with the children, and that you’re so concerned for their safety has left me questioning if I know you at all.”

“You’re surprised I’m concerned about the safety of my niece and her friend?”

“I’ve insulted you, haven’t I?”

For the briefest of moments, Norman wanted to agree that he was insulted, until he remembered that he’d never shown any attention to any of his nieces or nephews before, let alone their friends, and thus had never shown any concern about their safety.

It was an unfortunate state of affairs, but since he’d decided he was going to do his utmost best to make amends for the neglect he’d shown his family, he caught Stanley’s eye and shook his head. “You have every reason to be surprised about my newfound interest in our family, so no, I’m not insulted. I’ve been self-centered for most of my life, consumed with my own affairs, thinking that I was justified with that unfortunate behavior because of my unusual intellect. I’ve recently realized that perhaps I’ve been wrong in the path that I, as well as Mother, believed God had set out for me, because that path wasn’t leading me to a place where I could put my intellect to use helping people. To my chagrin, I’ve realized I’ve been pursuing science as a way to benefit myself, hoping to earn accolades from fellow scientists, and even hoping to create a viable electrical vehicle so that I’d no longer be burdened with the inconvenience of traveling around without the benefit of a horse.”

“You still don’t have a horse,” Stanley said, sending a pointed look to where Mort seemed to have fallen asleep again on his feet.

“But I now have the means to travel freely about the city without waiting for trains or rented cabs, even if Mort doesn’t always want to deliver me to my intended destination. But speaking of horses . . .” He nodded to where two riders were galloping their way.

As they drew closer, he recognized Beatrix, the mere sight of her sitting so competently on her horse leaving him smiling. He’d not seen her ride since their train adventure, but she made a most impressive sight, moving at ease with her horse, while her companion seemed a touch unsteady in the saddle, although he wasn’t certain who she was riding with.

“Is that Theodosia?” Stanley asked, shielding his eyes with one hand as he peered at the other woman riding alongside Beatrix.

Norman’s gaze flicked over that woman again, then flicked over the black stallion, one that turned out to be Sebastian, Theo’s new horse. “I believe it is.”

“What’s she done to herself?”

“I think Gladys Huttleston and her friends have taken her in hand.”

Stanley began moving toward the ladies, looking over his shoulder. “Theodosia didn’t need