by Deborah Hale
“Six years.” Evangeline welcomed the compliment. “I was hired to teach Emma and Matthew, but after their mother passed away, I took over supervising the care of the younger children as well.”
“You have done a fine job. They are lovely children—well behaved without being backward.”
“Thank you, Miss Leveson.” If there was one thing Evangeline could not resist, it was praise for her pupils. “They are as clever and good-natured a group of children as I have ever known, though I cannot pretend to be impartial.”
“Their father must place a great deal of trust in your judgment,” Miss Leveson continued. “I suppose he seeks your counsel about a great many things.”
“Some, perhaps, to do with the children.”
The lady gave an emphatic nod. “I thought so. I am certain you give him excellent advice about anything that might affect their well-being.”
“I try to.” Evangeline wondered where this conversation might be leading. “Why do you ask?”
“I thought you might want to warn him.” Miss Leveson nodded toward Jasper Chase, striding along some distance ahead of them with Rosie on his shoulders, while Penelope Anstruther hurried to keep up.
“Warn him?” Evangeline repeated.
Miss Leveson slowed her pace and lowered her voice. “Surely you must agree it would be most unfortunate for your pupils if that woman manages to sink her claws into their father. She claims to be vastly fond of children, yet she did not pay any of them the least attention today. She was too busy fawning over their father.”
That was true, Evangeline realized. No doubt it accounted for her strange antagonism when she’d watched Miss Anstruther and Mr. Chase together.
Gemma Leveson dropped her voice even further. “I happened to overhear her talking to Verity Dawson, whom she treats abominably, poor creature. Miss Anstruther said the girls and the little boy were tolerable, but the older boys were a pair of boisterous ruffians.”
The vague antagonism Evangeline had felt toward Penelope Anstruther flared into defensive outrage. How dare she say such things about Matthew and Alfie when she hadn’t exchanged a word with either of them? True, Matthew was constantly on the move, always talking and asking questions, but those were signs of his quick intelligence and boundless curiosity. Alfie could be a little bull in a china shop at times, but he had the most open, affectionate heart. Ruffians, indeed!
Her indignation quite choked her, but Miss Leveson seemed to mistake her silence for doubt. “Miss Anstruther went on to say that the boys should have been sent away to school long ago. I don’t doubt that is just what she will do if she gains any influence over their father.”
She couldn’t, could she? The glare Evangeline shot at the distant figure of Penelope Anstruther might have set the lady’s elaborate hat on fire. It had been their father’s decision to educate the boys at home for as long as possible. With their mother gone and him away so much, he’d wanted his children to have each other’s company. He was also reluctant for them to mix with young aristocrats who might shun them for having a father in trade or encourage them in false values like pride and selfishness.
Evangeline supported his decision entirely. She knew that a good boys’ school would not be subject to the deprivations of the charity institution where she’d been so miserable. But the reports she’d heard about such places from the brothers of her former pupils did not inspire her with confidence. She feared the wrong school might stifle Matthew’s curiosity and break Alfie’s spirit.
“I thought I would mention it to you,” Miss Leveson concluded, “since you seem so devoted to Mr. Chase’s children.”
“Of course,” Evangeline replied rather absently. Her thoughts were racing so, she was scarcely aware of the other woman. “Thank you for this information.”
“I felt it was my duty.” Miss Leveson sounded convinced of her virtue. “I have taken such a fancy to these dear little ones.”
With that, she hurried to catch up with Emma and Mrs. Dawson, leaving Evangeline to trail after the rest of the party, lost in thought.
If what she’d been told was true, it would be a calamity for the Chase children if their father wed Miss Anstruther. On the other hand, Miss Leveson’s devious tattling did not paint her in a flattering light either.
For the first time since she’d come up with the idea for a matchmaking house party, Evangeline questioned whether it was such a clever plan after all. What would happen if Mr. Chase chose the wrong lady to be his second wife? Could she bear to be responsible for that?
“I believe I owe you an apology, Miss Fairfax,” said Jasper as his children washed up for their tea.
“Do you, sir?” The governess had seemed distracted ever since they returned from their fishing expedition.
Jasper wondered if there was something troubling her. “I know I have difficulty admitting I am wrong. But in this case, I must make an exception. I am beginning to think this house-party idea of yours was not such a bad one after all.”
A rather pained look came over the lady’s vivid features.
He tried again. “In fact, it may have been a very good one. I was concerned it would take away attention from the children, but instead it has provided them with more. I enjoyed myself more today than I have in a very long time. For that I owe you my thanks.”
Her expression lightened and warmed in response to his words, though he fancied a shadow lingered in her brown velvet eyes. “I’m glad you had a pleasant time, sir. You deserve it after all you do for others.”
Jasper sensed an unspoken “but” and wondered what it might be. Or was he only imagining things? “You did an excellent job making everything run smoothly for our outing, so we could all relax and enjoy ourselves.”
“Thank you, sir.” She looked gratified by his praise, yet her gaze seemed to avoid his, as if she’d done something wrong rather than doing everything right. “It was the least I could do after all my meddling in your life. I meant well, but now I wonder...”
“Do not fret,” Jasper tried to reassure her. “Sometimes a person is right to interfere when they see a friend in need of help. Especially if that friend does not realize they require assistance.”
Miss Fairfax still did not seem persuaded. Perhaps the situation called for more than words. He reached out, clasped her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. “It has worked out for the best. Thank you for caring enough about my family to arrange all this.”
His gesture of gratitude seemed to fluster his children’s strong-willed governess in a way he had never seen before. Had he been so remiss about expressing his appreciation that she did not know how to accept praise?
Before he could think what else to say, Rose came running in from the bedroom she shared with Emma. “I’m ready for tea, Papa. Are we going to eat Owen’s fish?”
Jasper let go of the governess’s hands and turned to pick up his youngest daughter. “Not today, little one. Mrs. Gilman needs to clean and fillet it. She promised Owen to have it ready for tomorrow. I wish I had thought to bring along a pan to fry our catch over a fire and eat with our luncheon. Fish always tastes best that way.”
“We would only have gotten a tiny bite each, among so many of us,” said Matthew, suddenly appearing at his father’s side. “It wasn’t a very big fish.”
“A good deal bigger than you caught.” Jasper winked at his son to show he was only teasing. “Besides, you ought to recollect the story of the loaves and the fishes. Sometimes, when we are willing to share what we have, it multiplies further than we would ever imagine.”
He knew that from experience. Mill profits, which might have evaporated to pay for luxuries, could make a good life for many more working families whose labor kept his business running. In turn, he believed his employees worked harder and more efficiently than the wretched starvelings hired by his competitors. One day he hoped to persuade the other owners that charitable principles and good business could go hand in hand.
The other children soon joi
ned them and they all sat down to a jolly tea. Each of the youngsters was eager to tell what they had done or discussed with Jasper’s guests that afternoon... even Emma.
“I like Mrs. Dawson best,” she replied when her father made a point of drawing her out. “She doesn’t make a fuss or treat me like a baby.”
Jasper glanced at Miss Fairfax to discover she was biting her lip to keep from grinning. He knew they were both thinking of how Miss Leveson cooed and babbled over Rosie. Jasper pressed his lips tight together and looked away from the governess for fear they might offend his daughter with a burst of laughter.
“Mrs. Dawson is all alone in the world, you know,” Emma continued in a tone of gentle pity. “She got married to a soldier but he was killed at Waterloo. I think she still misses him.”
The way Emma still missed her mother? The thought gave Jasper a pang. He recalled how his late wife had doted on their first child, such a quiet, contented infant.
“I’m sure she does,” Miss Fairfax spoke up when Jasper’s memories rendered him silent. “But I believe she enjoyed herself today and was happy to make a new friend.”
Her words seemed to comfort the child and encourage her to focus on how she could help Mrs. Dawson rather than dwell on the sadness of their bereavement.
Owen looked toward the nursery window where fat drops of rain spattered against the glass. “It’s too bad we won’t be able to play hide-and-seek in the garden after tea.”
The other children murmured in disappointment, but their governess was quick to suggest an alternative. “What if we play downstairs before the guests come down to dinner?”
Jasper’s children immediately cheered up, greeting the idea with enthusiasm.
“We will need your father’s permission, of course.” Miss Fairfax cast him a pleading look. “And we must promise to be very careful and not break anything.”
“We promise!”
“Can we, Papa? Please!”
Jasper gave a cheerful shrug. “I don’t see why not.”
The children cheered and their governess flashed him a grateful smile.
“Perhaps we should ask Miss Brookes to join our games,” he suggested. “She told me she wished she could have played with us last night.”
Alfie nodded. “I think we should. I like her.”
“So do I,” said Matthew. “Miss Webster, too. Can we ask her to play, Papa?”
“If you like.” Jasper wondered if the other children would want to invite their particular friends.
Before any of them should suggest it, Miss Fairfax rose from her place. “Let’s get tidied up first. Rosie, how on earth did you manage to get jam on your nose?”
Jasper turned to the nursery maid, who had begun to clear away the dishes. “Jane, will you kindly inform Miss Brookes and Miss Webster that the children will be playing downstairs for the next hour, if they would care to join us?”
“Yes, Mr. Chase.” The girl bobbed a curtsy. “Right away, sir.”
Perhaps this would be an opportunity to become better acquainted with one of the other ladies. Jasper mulled over the idea as Jane bustled off to relay his invitation. Without Miss Anstruther around to monopolize his attention, it might be easier to engage Abigail Brookes or Margaret Webster in conversation.
Yet somehow, he could not dismiss the feeling that the ladies would be intruding on his family time with the children and Miss Fairfax.
Chapter Five
ON THE FOURTH day of the house party, Evangeline woke even earlier than usual. After checking that yesterday’s rain had stopped, she dressed and arranged her hair with more than usual care. Mixing with Mr. Chase’s guests had made her conscious of her appearance. She did not want to be an embarrassment to her employer, after all.
Once she was ready, she crept out to the nursery, where Jane had already lit a small fire and left a pot of coffee. Evangeline had just poured herself a cup when the nursery door eased open and Jasper Chase peered inside. She was not surprised to see him. The day before, he had asked if there was a time he might speak to her without the children present. She’d told him there was only this early-morning hour or the evening after her pupils were tucked in for the night. Mr. Chase insisted he did not want to make her wait up.
Now he entered the nursery with quiet footsteps, closing the door softly behind him. Evangeline poured him a cup of coffee as he slipped into the chair beside her at the round nursery table. Of course it would be easier to speak in hushed tones if they sat close, she told herself.
“Good morning,” he whispered. “I hope you slept well.”
She nodded. “Very well, thank you. I hope you are not tired from having to rise at such an early hour.”
Mr. Chase shook his head as he took a sip of his coffee. “When I’m in Manchester, I am accustomed to being up and about early. It is the late evenings sitting up with company that feel peculiar to me.”
“I believe it should be a fine day.” Evangeline wondered when Mr. Chase would explain the reason for his early-morning call. “A bit windy, but that will not be a bad thing if you want to fly kites on Red Hill.”
A slow smile spread across her employer’s face, beginning in one corner of his lips and rippling over to the other. “We had better, don’t you think, after all the work we went to making them yesterday? It was a perfect activity to keep the children occupied on a rainy day.”
Evangeline worked hard to suppress an answering grin. “Some of your guests seemed to enjoy kite-building as much as the children, Mr. Brookes and his sister, for instance.”
“Indeed,” he agreed. “I believe they both appreciate this escape from the restrictions of vicarage life. I only wish I’d invited them to Amberwood sooner. I will not be so remiss in the future.”
Reverend Brookes could visit much more frequently if his sister were the lady of the house. Evangeline was tempted to mention it, but something held her back.
Instead, she asked a question that had plagued her ever since Mr. Chase suggested this meeting. “I beg your pardon, sir, but the children will soon be stirring. What is it you wish to discuss with me?”
“Oh, that.” Jasper Chase sounded as if he had forgotten his reason for being there. “You may have noticed the effort I have been making to get better acquainted with the ladies.”
“I have, sir, and I appreciate it,” Evangeline replied.
He already seemed to know Miss Brookes quite well. During yesterday’s kite-making, the two had talked a great deal about a number of childhood visits he had made to her home. Though Evangeline was relieved to see his attention diverted from Miss Anstruther, she had not been as pleased as she should to witness his easy camaraderie with Abigail Brookes.
Mr. Chase looked rather self-conscious. “The fact is, I need to discuss the merits of each lady and seek advice about which might make the most suitable match. It would be awkward to broach the subject with my mother-in-law. I doubt Norton Brookes could be impartial since his sister is one of the ladies in question. That leaves you, Miss Fairfax. You know me, my children and my household. I trust your judgment as I do few others.”
Evangeline ducked her head and bolted a mouthful of coffee to cover her intense satisfaction at hearing that.
“Besides,” he continued, “this party was your idea to find me a wife. So I reckon you owe me your assistance.”
“I suppose I do, sir.” She acknowledged his claim with a rueful nod. “I shall be happy to help in any way I can, if you will tell me how.”
“I would like your opinion of the ladies. Miss Anstruther to begin with. Do you think she would suit me and I her? Would she be a good mother for my children?”
Evangeline wanted to shout, “No, no, no!” at the top of her lungs, but she managed to restrain herself for fear of waking the children and perhaps offending their father. Had he taken a fancy to Miss Anstruther and wanted her to confirm the wisdom of his choice? Gemma Leveson’s warning ran through her thoughts, yet she was reluctant to voice her opposition too forceful
ly. A strong-willed man like Jasper Chase might become more stubbornly attached to a lady of whom she disapproved.
Instead, she tried to be as diplomatic as possible. “Miss Anstruther is a very well-bred lady. She would have no trouble getting along with your mother-in-law. But I am not certain she has much interest in the children. She has scarcely spoken to any of them since she arrived.”
Mr. Chase gave a decisive nod. “I agree.”
A powerful wave of relief swept over Evangeline. How could she have lived with herself if her actions ended up inflicting that unpleasant woman on her dear pupils?
“It is not her fault,” he continued. “She grew up without brothers and sisters. I am not certain she has ever had contact with children before. Such a large family must seem quite bewildering to her.”
“That is no excuse.” Evangeline’s discretion deserted her. “I was my parents’ only child yet I became a governess.”
That was no testament to a love of children, her conscience protested. She had been obliged to earn a living, and teaching was one of the only respectable ways a lady might support herself.
Fortunately, Mr. Chase did not take offense at her muted outburst. Instead his blue-gray eyes twinkled. “But we cannot expect a mere mortal like Miss Anstruther to measure up to such a paragon as Miss Fairfax.”
His teasing made Evangeline blush furiously. “I am not a paragon! How tiresome that would be.”
“Compared to Penelope Anstruther, you are.” He pulled a droll face that made Evangeline grin in spite of her embarrassment. “Besides, that is the paradox of paragons. If a lady believes she is one, she cannot possibly be. But if she denies it, chances are she is the genuine article.”
She had heard Mr. Chase employ this kind of banter with his children, but he had never used it with her until this morning. She was not certain how she felt about it. “Get away with you.” She affected a mock scowl. “You are only flattering me so I will change my mind about leaving Amberwood.”