“Thought of having Geoffrey smear himself with paint—oh dear, Tom’s new oils I suppose—and bare his teeth at them?” Her smile escaped.
He smiled warmly back at her. “In broad strokes, if not in every detail, yes.”
“Because their reaction will be revealing,” Jean went on thoughtfully.
“Definitive, I would say. If they can’t deal with a bit of…performance…”
“They can’t deal with Geoffrey,” they said in unison.
“Precisely,” he said again. Their shared smile became tender. Benjamin reached for her hand, then drew back and reluctantly rose to ring the bell. “Miss Enderby,” he told the maid.
They went through the same set of questions with each of the other three applicants—their experience, their philosophy, their references. Geoffrey performed his grimacing war dance every time, disappearing between interviews so that he couldn’t be scolded. By the fourth iteration, the boy was looking quizzical and a little tired. Jean thought he was glad to run off at the end, toward the back door rather than the bushes this time.
“So what do you think?” Benjamin asked after they had interviewed all four.
“Which one do you like best?”
“I prefer that we work the matter out between us.”
He seemed to really care for her opinion. The look in his eyes thrilled Jean to the tips of her toes. “All of them appeared to know their way around a nursery,” she said.
“And their references were splendid.”
“Mrs. Phillipson says that all references are good—because if they aren’t, you never see them.”
“Ah.”
“Miss Carter had a quiet dignity,” Jean said.
“Geoffrey could certainly use a bit of that. But could she keep up with him? Hah, we should have sent each of them out to catch him. To test their gait and wind.”
“You could stage a footrace before they go,” replied Jean dryly.
He acknowledged her tone with a smile. “It isn’t a terrible idea. Chasing Geoffrey is a large part of the position.”
“Until their fableddisciplinetakes hold.” Every applicant had used that word with careful reverence.
“Indeed. The way one of them said that made me shudder.”
“Which?” asked Jean.
“Which do you think?”
She knew the answer, but this game was beguiling. She wanted to prolong it. “Not Miss Enderby. She was very sweet.”
“But she’s only looked after anangeliclittle girl.” Benjamin made a cherubic face.
“Still, she took Geoffrey’s antics in stride.”
“If that’s what you call sitting like a stone with dread in her eyes. I predict that she will remove herself from the running.”
Jean smiled in agreement. “Miss Phipps wasn’t bothered. She scowled.”
“At one point, I thought she was going to lunge for him and drag him into the library.”
“I didn’t like her remarks on caning.”
“Which cameaftershe saw Geoffrey.”