"Shopping for Amanda's wedding gown?" Wyatt teased, pausing beside her. "It would certainly set a new fashion."
Nia gave a reluctant smile and dropped the material. "I suppose it would," she agreed, wondering how much the fabric would cost. Perhaps if it wasn't too dear she'd buy enough for a new gown, she thought, giving the bolt a wistful look.
Wyatt noted the pensive expression on her face. "Would you like to buy the material?" he asked politely. "We can have it delivered to the house with the other things."
Strongly tempted, Nia picked up the fabric again. Her one good gown was decidedly shabby, and perhaps it wouldn't be hopelessly frivolous of her to replace it. The material was so beautiful . . .
"I believe I shall," she said decisively, giving the duke a bright smile. "And then I shall take Amanda over to look at the pattern books. Perhaps we can get some ideas for her wardrobe."
The notion of examining fashion illustrations was not at all to Wyatt's liking, and he was quick to cry off. "I shall leave that to you, Miss Pringle," he said with alacrity. "And while you and Amanda are doing that, I will have a look at the books."
"Yes, Your Grace," Nia agreed, amused at the look of horror on his handsome face. "It shouldn't take above an hour."
After agreeing to meet in the shop's public area, Nia dragged a protesting Amanda up to the first floor where the elegant fashion books were kept. It took some doing, but she was finally able to interest the little girl in the delicate watercolors. While Amanda was busy studying the prints, Nia thumbed through another stack of illustrations until she found a suitable pattern for her new gown. She ordered up the necessary needles and threads, and feeling greatly daring, also ordered some velvet ribbon to trim the neck and hemline.
Once that was done she turned her attention to Amanda, who had struck up a conversation with the pretty blond lady sitting beside her.
"My uncle is a duke," she heard her inform the stranger in a smug voice. "He has a crest on his carriage. Do you have a crest on your carriage?"
"Amanda!" Nia exclaimed, her face crimson as she hurried over. "I beg pardon, ma'am," she said, dropping a polite curtsey. "I am afraid she is still learning that one mustn't approach strangers when in public."
"I quite understand." The blond's gray-blue eyes were bright with laughter. "I have several nieces and nephews near the same age, so I am accustomed to such forthrightness."
"Do you have a crest on your carriage?" Amanda pressed, eager for an answer. "Does it have a dragon?"
"Well, the carriage I am using belongs to my brother-in-law, and as he is an earl it does have a crest," the woman answered obligingly. "But I'm afraid it doesn't have a dragon. It does have a lion, though, and a griffin. Is that all right?"
"Dragons are better than lions," Amanda said in a self-important voice. "But I don't know what a griffin is."
"We shall study that next week," Nia answered, her eyes flicking toward the younger woman. She believed at once her claim to gentility, and it had nothing to do with her exquisite clothes or the maid hovering protectively at her mistress's side. It was in her face, she decided, in the delicacy of her features and the calm control in her eyes. She was wondering if she should introduce herself and Amanda, when Amanda took the matter out of her hands.
"I am Lady Amanda Perryvale," she announced, hopping off the bench to bob an awkward curtsey. "And this is my governess, Miss Pringle. Who are you?"
"I am Lady Catherine Declaire," the woman answered, rising gracefully to return the curtsey. "And I am most pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Amanda, Miss Pringle." She cocked her head to one side as a sudden thought struck her.
"Perryvale," she repeated, her blond brows puckering. "You are the duke of Tilton's niece?"
Amanda gave a pleased nod. "He is going to buy me a new cape," she said in a confiding manner, "and a book on ballooning. Do you know about ballooning?"
"Only that it sounds ever so interesting," Lady Catherine replied, her lips curving in a sweet smile. "And I think I would very much like to try it someday."
They continued chatting for a few more minutes, and Nia was delighted at the easy way Lady Catherine spoke with Amanda. It had been her experience that most adults had a devil of a time with children. They never seemed to know how to behave around them, and either treated them like brainless dolts, or else they were stiffly formal. She was wondering if His Grace would allow her to invite the young lady to tea, when she suddenly sensed his presence behind her. She turned just as he reached them.
"Lady Catherine, how delightful to see you again," he said, bowing with grave politeness. "I see you have already made the acquaintance of my niece."
"Indeed I have, Your Grace," Lady Catherine answered, her gaze returning to Amanda. "And may I say she is completely enchanting. You must be very proud of her."
"I am," Wyatt replied, his eyes softening as he laid his hand on Amanda's shoulder. "Are you ready to go, my dear? I fear it is time we were leaving."
"Yes, Uncle Wyatt," Amanda replied, sliding her hand confidently into his and giving Lady Catherine a polite nod. "Good-bye, Lady Catherine," she said, imitating her uncle's cool manner. "It was very nice meeting you."
"Good-bye, Lady Amanda." Lady Catherine smiled. "Are you going to be at home for visitors tomorrow? If so, I should enjoy calling upon you."
Amanda dropped her dignified pose to become a six-year-old again. "Will you come for tea?" she asked, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement.
Lady Catherine's eyes rose to Wyatt's, and he gave an imperceptible nod. "I should like that very much, my lady," she said, turning back to Amanda. "Shall we say three o'clock?"
On the way back to the carriage Amanda could talk of nothing but her newfound friend. "She is a real lady, Uncle Wyatt," she assured him solemnly. "Just like Lady Colford. Do you think she will wear her coronet when she comes to call? I should like to see a coronet. May I have one?"
"When you are older," Wyatt promised, accustomed now to the way Amanda's mind jumped from subject to subject. "In the meanwhile, I have something to show you."
"What is it?" Amanda demanded, eager for anything new. "Is it a balloon?"
"Considering that it's in my carriage, I shouldn't think so," Wyatt replied with a chuckle. "You shall have to wait and see."
Amanda pouted, but knew better than to press. Her patience was rewarded a few minutes later when she climbed into the carriage and found a doll sitting on the seat.
"A doll!" she squealed, snatching it up and pressing it to her breast. "Oh, Uncle Wyatt, thank you!"
"You are most welcome," he said, pleased his present had been so well received. He'd purchased the doll on impulse, feeling slightly foolish lest one of his friends see him.
"What will you name her?" Nia asked, dutifully admiring the porcelain doll with its blond ringlets and rosy cheeks.
Amanda wrapped one of the curls around a finger. "Catherine," she said at last. "I shall name her Lady Catherine."
While Amanda was occupied with her new doll, Wyatt turned to Nia. "Were you able to find a pattern?" he asked, leaning back against the seat.
"Yes, Your Grace," she replied, folding her hands in her lap. "I arranged for it to arrive with the material. If that meets with your approval?" She gave him an anxious look, fearing she may have overstepped her bounds.
"That is fine." Wyatt dismissed her fears with a shrug. "I ordered several items, and the clerk assures me they will be delivered no later than tomorrow." He paused, then added, "You will find some items for yourself among them. I hope you will accept them."
Nia straightened in alarm. "Items? What items?"
"A new cloak, some gloves, nothing extravagant," Wyatt replied, his bored manner indicating he considered the matter of little import. "You are my niece's governess, and your appearance is a reflection upon me. I can hardly allow you to go about in a threadbare cloak."
Nia's cheeks flushed with mortification. She'd hoped the worn condition of her cloak hadn't been obvio
us, but apparently she hadn't reckoned with His Grace's sharp eyes. She shot him a resentful look, wishing she dared refuse his magnanimity. Unfortunately, she didn't have that luxury. As her employer he was well within his rights to dictate what she wore, and the knowledge stung. She took a deep breath, swallowing her pride with difficulty.
"Thank you, Your Grace," she said, her voice stiff with fury. "That is most generous of you."
"You are welcome." Wyatt bit his lip, hiding a quick smile at her ill-disguised temper. She looked as if she'd like nothing better than to throw his gifts back in his face, and he admired her pride. He had no desire to humble her, but neither did he want to see her dressed in rags when he had more than enough money to buy whatever she required. He was all too aware that if it hadn't been for her he would never have met Amanda, and he was determined to repay her. Even, he admitted ruefully, if she didn't desire repayment.
The rest of the trip passed in silence, and they were soon back at Berkeley Square. Amanda wanted to show her doll to Mrs. Mayton and went dashing back to the kitchens, but when Nia would have followed, Wyatt drew her into his study for a private coze.
"If Lady Catherine should call tomorrow, I would like you to use the duchess's room," he said, settling behind his desk. "I will leave word with Mrs. Mayton to prepare something special."
"Very well, my lord," Nia agreed, her pique forgotten at the thought of using the beautiful room. She'd glanced in at it several times in the past few weeks, and she was quite enamored of it. "Will there be anything else?"
Wyatt hesitated, then said, "Miss Pringle, if I were to ask you something, would you answer me honestly? I promise I shan't hold it against you if you speak the truth."
"I should hope I always speak the truth, Your Grace," Nia replied. And then because they were speaking of integrity she added, "Or at least, I try. What is it you wish to know?"
He smiled, and then grew suddenly serious. "Do you think I am ignoring Amanda?" he asked bluntly, his dark eyes grim as they met hers. "The truth, Miss Pringle, if you please."
Nia was taken aback by his straightforward demand. She already knew he was determined to do his duty by Amanda, but what she could now see was that he genuinely cared about her as well. The last of Nia's resentment faded.
"No, Your Grace, I do not," she answered, her voice firm as she pushed her glasses back up her nose. "In the few weeks we have been in your home you have paid Amanda more attention than many of my former employers paid their children in a year. You are obviously interested in her well-being, and when she speaks, you listen to her. I cannot tell you how rare that is. You are an excellent guardian, Your Grace. Amanda could not ask for better."
Wyatt was genuinely touched by her praise. "Thank you, Miss Pringle," he said huskily. "You have greatly relieved my mind."
"You are welcome, sir," Nia said, pleased. "If that will be all, I will return to my rooms."
Wyatt knew he should dismiss her, but he was oddly reluctant to do so. Since the night they'd met she had been much in his thoughts, and he was suddenly curious to learn more of the woman who had changed his life so irrevocably. "Before you go, Miss Pringle, I was wondering how you are settling in," he said, leaning back in his chair to study her. "I apologize for not speaking with you sooner, but I fear I have been rather busy. Is all to your liking?"
Since she had been anticipating his question, Nia was quick to reply. "Yes, my lord," she answered with a placating smile. "Everything here is delightful, and your staff has been most accommodating. Indeed, they couldn't be more helpful."
He arched an eyebrow at her response. "I wasn't asking for an evaluation of my household's performance, ma'am. I asked if you are happy. Are you?"
For a moment Nia was at a loss how to reply. In all her years in service she couldn't remember the last time anyone had asked her something so personal. Was she happy? she wondered, weighing the matter carefully before responding. "Yes, Lord Tilton," she said, her eyes meeting his. "I am."
Wyatt's broad shoulders relaxed, and he realized he'd been holding his breath. " I 'm glad to hear that," he confessed, propping his booted feet on his desk. "There aren't any young ladies here for you to converse with, and I feared you might be growing lonely."
"Not at all," she assured him. "Amanda is more than company enough for me, and truth to tell, I am used to being alone. In my other positions I was often left to my own devices, and when I traveled with my father there were times when there were no other women near my age anywhere in sight. Respectable females, that is," she clarified with a grimace, remembering too well the bold campfollowers who had tagged along after the army.
"Yes, I'd heard you spent several years following the drum with your father," he said slowly, recalling one of the few details he'd learned from Mrs. Langston prior to hiring Nia.
"From the time I was five," Nia replied, her expression softening as she thought of her father. "It was an interesting life, and despite the many difficulties, I enjoyed myself immensely. If Papa hadn't died of the flux when I was nineteen, I daresay I'd still be trooping after him."
Wyatt was thinking it was probably the difficulties she enjoyed most, when the rest of her confession brought him upright. "But what of marriage?" he asked curiously, leaning forward to study her face. "Surely your father would have wanted a more settled life for you."
"Perhaps," Nia agreed, recalling the occasional arguments she and her father had had on that very subject. "For all he was devoted to the army, he was terrified I would marry into the regiment. He wanted me to return to England and marry a 'proper sort of gentleman,' or so he used to claim."
"Why didn't you?"
"Probably because marrying a proper sort of gentleman was the worst fate I could imagine," Nia confessed with a rueful laugh, too lost in memory to consider Wyatt might regard her words as inflammatory. "And, of course, there wasn't enough time. When I was the right age to be introduced, we were too busy tending the wounded of Badjoz to give the matter another thought. A year later, he was dead."
"And that was when you returned to England?" Wyatt was intrigued by this unexpected glimpse into her past.
"There were several of us, widows and orphans, who were evacuated along with the wounded," she said, her eyes growing bleak at the memory of the terrible suffering she had seen. "When I reached London I discovered most of my relations were dead, and the small annuity my father left me wasn't enough to support me."
"And so you became a governess," he concluded, touched at the matter-of-fact way she described what must have been a terrifying nightmare. Looking at her now, with her spectacles and prim if somewhat grubby uniform, it was hard to believe she had led such an adventurous life. She looked the perfect governess, he thought, until one noted the shadows in her hazel eyes and the determined set of her full mouth. His eyes lingered on the curve of her lips, and he wondered if they would feel as soft and passionate as they looked.
"And so I became a governess," Nia agreed, her cheeks pinking as she felt the force of his stare. She knew he wasn't really gazing at her mouth as if he'd like nothing better than to kiss her, but that didn't keep her heart from racing with an exciting blend of nerves. Telling herself it was time she was returning to her duties, she rose to her feet, her eyes not quite meeting his as she shook out her skirts.
"If Your Grace will excuse me, I believe I shall peek in on Amanda," she said, praying her voice didn't betray her sudden uneasiness. "We are to have our Latin lessons this afternoon."
"Certainly, Miss Pringle." Wyatt inclined his head politely. "Kindly give Virgil my regards."
After she departed, Wyatt leaned back in his chair, his expression pensive as he gazed up at the ceiling. He hadn't meant to frighten her off, he thought, recalling with pleasure the soft flush that had stained her cheeks. She wasn't as beautiful as many of the women he knew, but there was something about her he found undeniably attractive.
Perhaps it was her defiant spirit, or her devotion to Amanda, he mused, or even the way he
r spectacles never stayed quite straight on her nose. Whatever the cause, he found himself thinking of her more than was proper, and he was determined to put a halt to such preoccupation.
Miss Pringle was his employee, and as such, his responsibility. The last thing he wished was to place her in an awkward position with his attentions. Not only would such actions strip him of any right to call himself a gentleman, but he much doubted she would tolerate such behavior for a second. At worst she would probably out a bullet through him, he decided, grinning as he remembered that delightful interlude in his carriage. At best, she could simply leave. That thought drove the grin from his face.
Over the past fortnight he had come almost to envy the obvious love between his niece and her unusual governess. They were devoted to each other, and he was loathe to endanger that bond in any way. His fascination with Miss Pringle was nothing more than propinquity, and it would pass with time. It had better, he told himself grimly. The last thing he needed in his chaotic life was another complication.
Chapter 6
As promised, Lady Catherine arrived at precisely three o'clock, nor was she alone. In addition to her maid, she was accompanied by a plain, middle-aged lady whom she introduced simply as Miss Saunders.
"I am her ladyship's companion," the woman informed Nia with a haughty look. "It would not do for an earl's daughter to go calling unless she was properly escorted."
"Indeed?" Nia managed, trying not to wince as she recalled the times she and Amanda had gone out walking without so much as a footman to accompany them.
"Oh, yes," Miss Saunders assured her with a superior smile. "Such things are simply not done in our world. Why, even a child as young as Lady Amanda is expected to behave in a manner befitting her rank. Should you have any questions regarding the proprieties, Miss Pringle, you have only to apply to me. My father was the third son of a baron, and I am familiar with the ways of the ton. I would be more than happy to instruct you."
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