Chase Family Collection: Limited Christmas Edition

by Lauren Royal

She patted him on the head. “Of course not. You must have misunderstood me.” She glared at Ford as though to say, This is all your fault. And he knew, then and there, that his happy visions of working while she and her brother entertained his niece were just that—visions. As ethereal as a dream.

  Lady Trentingham’s fairy dust wasn’t working, after all. Violet’s mother wasn’t his savior, and her suggestion that the children play together wasn’t the answer to his prayers. As a man of science, he should have known better than to imagine such flights of fancy, even for a moment.

  His plans were spinning out of control. No, make that his life…his life was spinning out of control. And unlike the centrifuge in his laboratory, this wasn’t a spin he seemed equipped to stop.

  Seven

  THE NEXT MORNING, Ford managed to get Jewel up and dressed by nine o’clock, at a cost of only two shillings. He was getting much better at this child care business. A good thing, because his dreams of hiring additional help had been dashed last night.

  A letter from his solicitor had arrived, hinting at financial concerns and asking for a meeting in London at Ford’s earliest convenience.

  Bloody hell, he thought—it certainly wasn’t convenient now. Maybe after his niece went home. In the meantime, the two of them were getting along famously this morning. Having learned what she preferred for breakfast—bread and cheese, with warm chocolate to drink—he no longer had to pay her to eat at all.

  Now, if only he could bribe that Rowan boy to play with the girl, life would be rosy. True, after he’d suggested they stay into the evening, Lady Violet had hurried her brother home so fast she’d tripped over his threshold on her way out. But today was a new day, and he’d awakened with a new determination.

  Desperation bred courage and ingenuity.

  Getting the children together hadn’t been Violet’s idea, he reasoned, but Lady Trentingham’s. Perhaps the mother would be willing to try again. That goal in mind, he settled Jewel in front of him on his horse and began riding toward Trentingham Manor.

  “What do you call her?” she asked.

  “Well, my lady, of course. I would have to be much more familiar with her to use her given name.”

  Jewel’s little hands tightened on his where he held her around the waist. “You’re not fa-mil-i-ar with your horse? That’s sad. Papa is friends with his horse.”

  “My horse?” He was feeling thickheaded again. Women seemed to do that to him, to his constant irritation. “Of course I know my horse. But he’s not a her. He’s a boy.”

  “Oh.” His niece was silent a moment as they reached the Thames and turned to ride alongside it. “What do you call him, then?”

  “Galileo.”

  “Gali-who?”

  “Galileo. Have you never heard of him? He was born in the last century, though he lived into this one.”

  “Was he a horse?”

  “No.” Ford choked back a laugh. “He was an astronomer and a physicist and a mathematician.”

  “That sounds boring.”

  “Oh, but it isn’t.” Sunlight glimmered off the water, a beautiful morning to visit. Ford was sure this encounter would end better than yesterday’s. “Galileo invented a horse-driven water pump, and a military compass, and something called a thermometer that measures hot and cold. And a much better telescope than the one invented before it.”

  “Like the one in your laboratory?”

  “Well, that one is called a reflecting telescope. It’s a newer one, invented by another man named Isaac Newton, only about five years ago. But he wouldn’t have invented it if Galileo hadn’t invented his telescope first. That’s the way science works. And with his telescope, Galileo discovered moons around Jupiter—”

  “Auntie Kendra told me about Jupiter. But not moons.”

  “She was talking about the Roman god.” Knowing his twin’s love of mythology, she’d likely regaled the innocent girl with bloody tales of Jupiter slaying poor souls with thunderbolts. “I’m talking about the planet.”

  “Like Earth?”

  “But much bigger. I can show you with my telescope. And I can show you Saturn, too, which has rings around it. Galileo was the first to notice those.”

  “That doesn’t sound boring.”

  Behind her, he smiled. “It’s wonderful, I assure you. Did you know all the planets go around the sun?”

  “Mama told me that.”

  “Well, another man named Nicolas Copernicus thought so first, but Galileo wrote a book to explain it.”

  “Galileo is lucky,” she said. “Your horse, I mean. To be named after a special man.” She leaned forward to stroke the animal’s jet-black mane, which matched her own dark, wavy tresses. “Rowan is named for a tree.”

  “Did he tell you so?”

  “No. He wouldn’t talk to me.” Ford could hear the pout in her voice. “But when you were out of the room, his sister told me that in her family, the girls are named for flowers and the boy is named for a tree.”

  “That’s because their father loves to garden,” he told her as Trentingham Manor came into view.

  A wide lawn studded with shade trees sat between the river and the sprawling, red-brick mansion, its uneven skyline and irregular patterned brickwork the result of a century of alterations. In the extensive gardens set around it, Ford spotted a well-dressed man fiddling with a rose bush.

  “In fact,” he said, “I’d wager that’s Lord Trentingham there now.”

  Ford hadn’t seen the Earl of Trentingham in quite a few years, but as they rode nearer, he could see where Rowan had inherited his looks. The earl’s dark hair glistened in the warm summer sun. He looked up, raising a hand to swipe his sweat-slicked brow.

  “Who goes there?” he asked when Ford reined in beside him.

  “Viscount Lakefield, my lord. Ford Chase.” Ford slid off Galileo, taking Jewel with him. “And my niece, Lady Jewel Chase.” The moment he set her on her feet, she raced to a nearby fountain and thrust her hands into the spurting water.

  The earl narrowed his emerald green eyes. “Eh?”

  “A long time since we’ve met, my lord.” Smiling, Ford held out a hand.

  Though the man shook it warmly, he still looked perplexed. “What? What did you say?”

  Too late Ford remembered Violet had mentioned her father was hard of hearing. “Ford Chase!” he fairly yelled. “I’m glad to see you!”

  Jewel splashed herself in the face as her eyes popped open wide. Then she giggled, and her lips parted in a grin. “Jewel Chase!” she shouted, clearly thinking it was a game.

  The earl bowed. “I’m glad of your acquaintance, young lady!” he hollered back.

  “Joseph!” Lady Trentingham rounded the corner of the mansion. “How many times must I remind you the rest of us can hear just fine?” Laughing softly, she came close and kissed him on the cheek. “You forgot your hat,” she added, plopping a wide-brimmed specimen on his head.

  “My thanks, love.” Apparently grateful for the shade, the earl clipped a blood-red bloom and presented it to his wife with a flourish.

  “Just what I needed,” she murmured. But the smile she sent her husband was genuine.

  “I’m wearing your perfume,” Jewel piped up.

  The woman turned to her. “Well, then, come closer, and let me see if it’s the right scent for such a lovely girl.”

  Jewel ran right over, wiping her wet palms on her dress. “Do I smell good?”

  Lady Trentingham leaned down and sniffed. “You smell glorious.”

  A radiant smile transformed Jewel’s face. “Will Rowan like it, do you think?”

  “She’s rather fond of your son,” Ford said.

  “So my daughter told me.” Lady Trentingham’s eyes danced as she looked up at him. “She also told me the feeling was less than mutual.”

  “I’m afraid she was right,” he lamented. “And I was so hoping the children would get along.”

  “I’d wager you were.” She looked contemplative. “Men,
you know, they sometimes take a while to come around.” Her husband had resumed puttering around, but her gaze on him was unmistakably affectionate. “My Rowan takes after his father, I’m afraid, but I’m sure, given time, he’ll come to appreciate this delightful young lady.”

  Ford watched as Jewel went back to the fountain, sighing when she splashed her dress. Another change of clothing in his future. He could already imagine Hilda complaining about the additional laundry and ironing. And him having nothing to do but listen, because he couldn’t work with a child running loose.

  “Lady Trentingham…” Desperation setting in, he favored her with one of his famous seductive smiles. “Do you suppose your son might give Jewel another chance?”

  Eight

  PERCHING A KNEE on one of the window seats in the gold-and-cream-toned drawing room, Violet peered out the window at the blur she knew was the viscount and her parents.

  “What do you think they’re saying?” she asked her sisters.

  Rose pressed closer to the panes, fussing with a floral arrangement she’d set in the window niche. “They seem to be discussing that little girl who’s playing in the fountain.”

  “Jewel,” Violet said. “The one I told you about who fancies herself in love with Rowan.”

  Lily’s fingers glided over the harpsichord, producing a lyrical tune. “How sweet.”

  “How absurd,” Rose countered. “She’s too young to be in love.” She patted her deep chestnut curls. “Unlike me. I do declare, that man out there looks mighty fine.”

  “He’s too intellectual for you,” Violet snapped, then wondered why she should suddenly be so short tempered. “Does Mum look like she’s pleased to see them?”

  Lily didn’t miss a beat as she looked up and out the window. “Very.”

  Rose leaned her hands on the sill. “Now Lord Lakefield has lifted the girl, and Mum is running a finger down her cheek.” She turned to Violet. “I think she must like her…do you suppose Mum’s already matchmaking for Rowan?”

  Rose sounded genuinely worried that their little brother might beat his older sisters to the altar. Which was absolutely ridiculous.

  “Well,” Violet said, “she’s not going to get me to take Rowan to Lakefield again. He was miserable.” The blurred figures were getting bigger. “Egad. They’re coming inside. All of them. Even Father.”

  The music stopped as Lily stood, looking puzzled. “Why shouldn’t they come inside?”

  “I…no reason.” The sudden quiet was unsettling. Violet drew a deep breath and found herself smoothing her russet skirts, which wasn’t like her. She pulled some of her hair forward to drape over one shoulder, then dropped her hand as Jewel bounded into the room ahead of the adults.

  The girl skidded to a stop on the carpeted floor, backing Violet against the wall in her enthusiasm. “Lady Violet!” Throwing her arms wide, she hugged her around the knees. “Where’s Rowan?”

  “Having his lessons.” Looking down into the child’s face, Violet couldn’t help but be charmed. “Would you care to meet my sisters? This is Lady Rose and Lady Lily.”

  “I’m pleased to make your ac-quain-tance,” Jewel said quite properly. Violet’s sisters exchanged an amused glance as the girl bobbed a curtsy. “This room is very fancy,” she said.

  It was, Violet supposed, though having lived here most of her life, she didn’t think about it much. They stood on a lovely gold-and-cream-toned Oriental carpet. The room’s dark oak paneling was studded with gold rosettes, the ceiling’s cornice heavily carved and gilded, the furniture upholstered in gold-and-cream silk damask. From where she stood, the details looked fuzzy, but she’d seen it all up close.

  “Why, thank you,” Chrystabel said.

  Jewel rocked up on her toes. “When will Rowan be finished with his schooling?”

  “Later today, I’m afraid. He has another lesson after dinner.”

  “Arithmetic,” Rose informed them. “He hates it.”

  “A rhythmic tic?” Her father nodded sagely. “I would hate a rhythmic tic as well. Quite annoying.”

  “Arithmetic,” Mum repeated loudly, laying a hand on Father’s arm. “We were talking about Rowan, and how he hates mathematics.” An amused smile on her face, she turned back to their guests. “Poor boy. I’ve promised him a sweet after the lesson.”

  Jewel tugged on her uncle’s sleeve. “Can Rowan come to our house for a sweet? Oh, puleeeeeze?”

  Lord Lakefield grinned down at his niece, a grin Violet suddenly wished were aimed at her instead. It was broad and white and just a bit devilish, extending all the way to his brilliant blue eyes. “Excellent idea, baby,” he said.

  When Mum smiled, Violet could see it coming.

  Oh, no.

  Trying to look casual, she leaned against the dark paneling, then shot straight when one of the gold rosette studs jabbed her in the posterior. “I don’t believe Rowan will be interested,” she blurted out, not nearly as composed as she’d planned.

  Mum’s smile only widened. “I’m sure Rowan would love to visit for a sweet,” she said to Lord Lakefield, as though Violet’s words had never been spoken. “Will three o’clock suit you? Madame is due here this afternoon for another fitting for Lily and Rose, but Violet will be happy to bring him.”

  Jewel jumped up and down.

  Violet shook her head, but no one took heed.

  “What?” Violet’s father asked his wife. “What did you say, my love?”

  Nine

  IN THE THREE hours since Ford and Jewel had arrived back at Lakefield, his niece had suddenly become very thick with Harry, Ford’s elderly houseman. Although Ford held no illusions that the man and girl would become fast friends, he’d jumped at the opportunity for freedom. Now, sitting in his attic laboratory, he paused to listen to little giggles floating through the open window.

  “Mud,” he heard Harry say. “Clay. It’s the exact color of the upholstery.”

  What could mud possibly have to do with anything?

  “Oh, good!” The sound of clapping hands accompanied Jewel’s childish voice. “We must hurry, then, so there will be time for it to start drying. And we need something fun to put at his place, so he won’t be looking.”

  “Brilliant, Lady Jewel. I’ve just the thing…”

  Their voices faded around a corner of the house. Shaking his head, Ford focused on the gears held in his hand. His thoughts returned to his current project, which was much more interesting than mud.

  Watches were so inefficient—the single hand only approximated the hour. Within the last few years, another hand had been added to clocks, one that ticked off the minutes and made time-keeping much more precise. But since watches weren’t pendulum-driven, the mechanism that drove a clock’s minute hand wouldn’t work inside them.

  Yet it should be possible to add a minute hand to a watch. A more accurate personal timepiece would be practical, functional—a true benefit to mankind. And after years of thought and experimentation, he was so close to making it work…

  “Your guests have arrived, my lord.” Bustling in, Hilda started flicking a dust rag at his various instruments. “Don’t you think you should be downstairs?”

  ROWAN CLINGING to her skirts, Violet followed Jewel toward Lord Lakefield’s dining room, wondering how it was that Mum had talked her into dragging the poor boy here again.

  And her maid Margaret hadn’t even come along this time! Mum had given the woman half a day off. Margaret was being courted, and Mum—who had introduced her to the “nice footman” from a neighboring estate—thought this a perfect chance for the maid to spend some time with her beau.

  How very like Mum to risk her own daughter’s reputation for the sake of someone else’s romance. Question Convention. Sometimes, Violet thought, the Ashcrofts took their motto a bit too seriously.

  Most of Lakefield had seen better days, but the dining room struck Violet as particularly dreary. The paneling was so dark it appeared nearly black, and although the built-in cupboards boaste
d glass in the doors, very few dishes were displayed inside. The room’s color scheme was an uninspiring mélange of browns. Everything was clean, though—the viscount had a decent housekeeper in Hilda.

  “Here, Rowan,” Jewel said brightly as they entered. “Sit here.” She pulled out one of the faded tan chairs. “Right here. I put a toy here for you.”

  “At the table?” Violet asked.

  “Uncle Ford lets me play at the table. As long as I leave him to his thoughts.”

  Violet would lay odds Jewel’s parents didn’t feel the same way. But she smiled as she watched her brother race to the chair and claim the toy, a cup and ball.

  “Rowan…” she prompted.

  “My thanks,” he murmured absently, making the ball fly up and catching it in the cup with a satisfying—to him, anyway—bang. He grinned and did it again. Well, his mood was improved, at least. Perhaps this visit wouldn’t go as badly as the first one.

  “Oooh, you’re very good at that,” Jewel all but purred, sidling up to Rowan.

  He smiled, making Violet think perhaps she could learn a thing or two from Jewel about flirting.

  Jewel touched him on the arm. When he looked up at her, she fluttered her lashes. “Rowan, will you show me how to do that? I’m just a butterfingers. I miss the cup every time.”

  Faith. Rose could learn a thing or two from her about flirting.

  But then Jewel reached for the toy, and Rowan jerked away, his frown back in place. “Mine.”

  “Rowan,” Violet scolded, silently cursing her mother for sending her here again. “Behave yourself.”

  Jewel looked crestfallen. Knowing what it was like to feel awkward with boys, Violet studied the girl. The sash on her powder blue dress was tied very crookedly in back—the viscount’s work, no doubt.

  Perhaps some female companionship would ease the sting of male rejection. “Here, let me fix your bow,” Violet offered brightly, stepping up to retie it.

  “Good afternoon,” came a low voice from beside her.