Regency Masquerades: A Limited Edition Boxed Set of Six Traditional Regency Romance Novels of Secrets and Disguises

by Brenda Hiatt

To her astonishment, Lord Seabrooke began to laugh. Far from stepping out of her way, he took her hand in his, leading her back to her chair. She pulled against his grip but her strength was no match for his.

  “Let me go!” she panted. “I’ll have the authorities on you for this!” She was afraid to struggle too violently for fear that her wig might be knocked askew. What would it do to her reputation to be discovered here, in such a situation? Thomas would surely insist on her marriage as a result, she realized.

  Still chuckling, the earl pushed her firmly into the chair. “Sit, Miss Cherrystone,” he said, and there was an edge of steel under the laughter that kept Frederica from immediately disobeying him. “You are laboring under a misapprehension, and I intend to clear it up. I would never dream of insulting a paragon such as yourself, I assure you.”

  “But… but you said—”

  “I phrased things poorly, I must admit. Now hear me out, I beg you.” He again seated himself behind his desk and picked up her references. “I see here that you had charge of Mrs. Henderson’s children for a time,” he said, as though their interview had never been interrupted.

  Frederica nodded uncertainly. Not knowing what Lord Seabrooke was really looking for, Milly had provided her with quite a variety of references, though she was careful not to claim any skills for Frederica that she did not actually possess. Certainly she had ample experience with children after her work with the village school, though she could not imagine why that should be important to an unmarried man like Lord Seabrooke.

  “I have recently become the guardian of a child, a little girl, four years of age. Her antecedents are, ah, dubious, but I wish to provide her with the upbringing of a young lady of Quality. My housekeeper has found herself unequal to the task of caring for the child in addition to her other duties, nor does Mrs. Abbott, though an admirable woman, have the, ah, background I would wish the child exposed to. For the present, I would prefer that the child’s residence here, indeed her very existence, not become public knowledge. Of course, this has made it exceedingly difficult to find the proper person to care for her. I could scarcely advertise for a nanny or governess, could I?” He gave Frederica a wry smile.

  This time she felt no inclination to smile back, though the truth was not quite as reprehensible as she had first thought. Still, it was bad enough. He wished her to care for his illegitimate child! Doubtless, he wanted the child kept a secret so that his wealthy fiancée would not hear of it and cry off. Although she could see the irony in the situation, somehow she was not tempted to laugh.

  “I suppose not,” she replied through clenched teeth.

  “I realize that being nursemaid to such a child may not exactly suit your notions of what is proper, Miss Cherrystone,” Lord Seabrooke continued, “but then, if it did, you would not be the sort of person I want.” That disarming smile was still on his face. “Can I at least prevail upon you to meet Christabel before leaving in a huff?”

  Frederica considered. Would Thomas find an illegitimate child in residence under Lord Seabrooke’s roof reason enough to cancel her betrothal? Possibly not. He had already admitted that the man had a reputation of sorts, and whatever incident had led to this child’s conception must have occurred nearly five years before. Distasteful as it seemed, she needed to discover more. Forcing her lips into a stiff smile, she met Lord Seabrooke’s bright blue gaze.

  “Very well, my lord, if you insist.”

  “Excellent!” He was beaming now. “She should be almost ready for her midday meal. This way, Miss Cherrystone.”

  Frederica silently followed him from the room, trying not to let her eyes linger on the broad shoulders or long legs in front of her. His limp was scarcely noticeable now. The man’s clothing was impeccable, and of fine workmanship. He certainly didn’t dress as though he were in need of money, she thought reluctantly.

  “I must say, I had nearly despaired of finding anyone suitable,” he said as he led her up the staircase at the back of the hall. “You wouldn’t believe the accents and manners I’ve had to endure in the course of these interviews. As soon as you opened your mouth, I knew you were the very person I had been seeking.”

  “I haven’t accepted the position yet, my lord,” she reminded him severely. “And surely an accent should not be the first consideration when evaluating a person’s suitability to raise a child. I should think temperament and experience would enter in as well.”

  “The experience you apparently have, and after our little altercation in the library, I suspect your temperament is all I could wish. You appear to have very strong views about right and wrong, and no difficulty in expressing them. I have no doubt you are well equipped to mold a young mind.” He gave her a sidelong glance, his eyes twinkling.

  “Indeed,” was all she replied. She would not allow herself to be charmed by him!

  Finally, after two more flights of stairs, they reached the very top of the house. “Here is the nursery,” he said, opening a door on the right. “Christabel, there is someone here who wishes to make your acquaintance,” he called out as they entered the room.

  A spindly woman of advanced years came forward to greet them, her back as straight as a ramrod. “She’s been a rare terror this morning, my lord,” she told the earl at once. Her shrewd grey eyes assessed Frederica as she spoke. “I’ve been trying to get her out from behind the clothes-press for half an hour, with no success. She’s playing one of her silly games, and tells me it is her cave or some such thing. I have a thousand more important things to do than coax a sulky child, I can tell you!”

  “Very well, Mrs. Abbott, you may go about your other duties. Miss Cherrystone and I shall see what we can do.” He waited until she was gone before turning to Frederica. “Mrs. Abbott is a gem of a housekeeper, but I fear that she hasn’t the energy or the time to keep up with Christabel. Nor does she appear to have a natural rapport with children, never having had any herself.”

  “Where is the child, my lord?” asked Frederica curiously, glancing around the large chamber. A few toys and books were arranged on two high shelves in regimented rows and a small table was neatly set for a meal. A little bed in the corner was smoothly made, and not a speck of dust nor a scrap of stray clothing was to be seen. It seemed to her a cold, sterile excuse for a nursery.

  “Behind here, I presume,” replied Lord Seabrooke, crossing to a large clothes-press in the corner opposite the bed. Looking behind it, he said, “Come out at once, Christabel. I want you to meet Miss Cherrystone.”

  In response, there was a high-pitched growling noise from behind the clothes-press, but no Christabel emerged.

  “May I try, my lord?” asked Frederica. In spite of her misgivings about the situation, she could already feel the stirrings of sympathy for a child forced to live in these barren surroundings.

  At his nod, she came forward and peered behind the enormous piece of furniture. She could see a small figure crouched in the corner at the other end. “Christabel?” she said tentatively. She was greeted by the same growling sound as the earl had been. Drawing back in mock alarm, Frederica exclaimed, “Oh, my! There’s a bear back here! It’s hiding deep in its den, my lord!” The growling grew fiercer.

  “Perhaps we can lure it out with a big piece of meat,” she suggested. Picking up a biscuit from the table, she held it where Christabel could see it. “Here, bear, I have some meat. Please don’t eat me!”

  The growling changed to a giggle and a little girl in a rumpled pinafore emerged. She brushed back tousled golden curls and looked up at Frederica with enormous, clear blue eyes. She was the loveliest child Frederica had ever seen. “I’m a wolf, not a bear,” she informed her with an impish smile.

  “Oh, yes. I can see that now,” said Frederica seriously. “Will you take this meat instead of my arm, Mr. Wolf?”

  Christabel giggled again and took the biscuit from her. Instead of eating it however, she held one tiny hand out to Frederica. “Are you going to be my new nanny?” she asked, gazing wistfu
lly up at her with those luminous eyes.

  “Miss Cherrystone?” prompted Lord Seabrooke when she did not answer at once.

  Frederica knelt down, never taking her eyes from the child’s face. “Yes, Christabel,” she said softly. “I’m going to be your new nanny.”

  Chapter Four

  “So you see, Milly, it is a respectable position, if rather unconventional. I believe it will serve my purpose admirably. It is really rather amusing now to remember what we suspected.” Frederica took a sip of her tea. “I am to start tomorrow, so we must decide which of my things—and yours—will be appropriate for me to bring along,” she concluded, having related the entire story of her interview with Lord Seabrooke and her acceptance of the post of nanny-cum-assistant housekeeper.

  Miss Milliken frowned. “I am not certain I should call it precisely respectable, Frederica. If you consider how the child came into the world—which I would prefer you not do, actually—”

  “It is scarcely poor Christabel’s fault, Milly,” said Frederica reprovingly. “She is the sweetest child, and simply starved for a bit of attention and amusement. After all, she had no say in the matter, and it seems most unfair that she should suffer for the sins of her parents.”

  “You are still very innocent, Frederica,” said Miss Milliken with a sigh. “It may not be fair, but it is the way things are in the world. Darling though she may be, your little Christabel will never be accepted by Polite Society. The best she will be able to aspire to is a post as an upper servant. And there, I fear, her looks will be against her if she retains the promise of beauty you claim she possesses. A much worse, if more luxurious, fate may well await her.”

  It took Frederica no more than a moment for Miss Milliken’s meaning to become clear. “Oh, no, Milly!” she cried, aghast. “That will never be, I am determined. With me there to guide her, to show her right from wrong, surely—”

  “Frederica, are you not forgetting that yours is merely a temporary post? That your real purpose is to discover enough about Lord Seabrooke to persuade Sir Thomas to let you off marrying him? Or have you changed that plan? I will admit that as Lady Seabrooke you may very well have a lasting influence on the child.”

  Frederica bit her lip in chagrin. “Of course you are right, Milly, and I had forgotten, so taken was I with Christabel. But I fear that Lady Seabrooke will have little say in the matter, no matter who she is, for it is apparent that Lord Seabrooke intends to keep Christabel’s existence a secret from her.”

  “But my dear, you already know about her,” Miss Milliken pointed out gently.

  “Well, yes, but I do not intend to become Lady Seabrooke! I thought you agreed with me on that point.”

  “I thought I did, too,” said Miss Milliken so softly that Frederica did not hear her.

  Early the next morning, Frederica arrived at Lord Seabrooke’s residence with a small trunk she and Miss Milliken had packed with items suitable for an upper servant in an aristocratic household, along with a few things Frederica had brought for Christabel. As before, she was admitted by the stout butler, whose manner was noticeably more friendly than it had been the previous day.

  “So you’re to be the new girl, are you, Miss Cherrystone?” he said with a suggestive grin as a footman carried in her trunk. “Mrs. Abbott will be glad of your help, I don’t doubt, and I can’t say as I’ll mind having a pretty young thing like yourself about the house, either.”

  Frederica smiled nervously and touched the bridge of her nose to reassure herself that her spectacles were in place. “You flatter me, I’m sure, Mr., ah…”

  “Coombes,” he supplied. “But you may call me George. This is a friendly house—very friendly.”

  “Of course.” She put a bit more distance between them, thinking that perhaps she should have considered wearing padding, after all. With more indignation than alarm, she wondered how such a man had managed to secure such a responsible post as that of butler. Certainly, she was more selective in the hiring of upper servants! “I’d best follow my trunk upstairs now,” she said politely, and hurried to catch up with the footman, leaving Mr. Coombes and his leer by the front door.

  Her room adjoining the nursery was small but well furnished, she found, with a pleasant prospect of the back garden from its single window. Frederica waited a few minutes for someone to come and unpack her trunk before the realization hit her that the new nanny would almost certainly not be assigned her own maid. In fact, she would likely have to do without many of the privileges she had always taken for granted, for the duration of her stay. No doubt the experience would do her good, Frederica thought with a smile as she opened the trunk and began to unpack.

  She was putting away the last few items of her absurdly small wardrobe when she heard a tap at the door to the nursery. Opening it, she discovered Christabel with a little bunch of daisies in her hand.

  “Mrs. Abbott says I am to come to you now. I’m glad, because you like to play and she doesn’t. These are for you.” She held up the flowers with a confiding smile.

  “Why, thank you, Christabel,” said Frederica warmly, touched by the simple gesture. “Did you pick them yourself?”

  The little girl nodded. “Mrs. Abbott let me go into the garden before anyone else was up this morning. Do you like them?”

  “They’re lovely. I’ll put them here in the pitcher until I can find a better vase. Would you like to help me finish unpacking?”

  “May I?” Christabel’s face lit up. “Abby never lets me come into her room.”

  “Well, you may come to mine anytime you wish.” Frederica gave the child a quick hug. “I know we are going to be very good friends.” Christabel returned the embrace with an enthusiasm that told Frederica that she had been hugged far too seldom.

  Frederica had brought along a variety of items to supplement the meagre collection of toys in the nursery, and Christabel thanked her enthusiastically as each was revealed. It was obvious that she had never been used to having much.

  “Now, what would you like to do this morning?” Frederica asked when they had closed the last drawer, already good friends.

  “Oh, I forgot. Abby wants me to say that she needs to talk to you right away. She’ll be here in a moment, I think.” As she spoke, the hallway door to the nursery opened, admitting the housekeeper. Frederica went into the nursery to greet her, with Christabel in tow.

  “Why don’t you draw me a picture while I speak with Mrs. Abbott?” Frederica suggested. She pulled a tablet of drawing paper and a box of pastels from the stack of things she had brought along for Christabel and settled her at the nursery table. Frederica and Mrs. Abbott then seated themselves at the far end of the room. “Christabel said that you wished to see me?”

  “Yes,” replied the housekeeper. “There are certain rules his lordship wishes you to understand, lest you inadvertently break them.” She looked past Frederica to the happily occupied Christabel. “You do seem to have a touch with children, miss. I never thought to distract her like that.”

  But Frederica’s attention had been caught by Mrs. Abbott’s previous statement. “Rules?” she asked sharply. “What sort of rules?”

  “I believe his lordship told you yesterday that he does not wish the child’s presence in this house to become common knowledge. To that end, she is not to leave the nursery except when it is least likely that she will be seen.”

  “Do you mean that the rest of the staff is unaware of her?” asked Frederica in astonishment. “How can that be? I cannot imagine her being silent enough, even in here, to escape detection.”

  “Only the female servants live on this floor, and all of us know about her. Mr. Coombes and the footman do not, but should have no reason to come up here.” Her expression was prim. “You will fetch her meals, and yours, from the kitchen, or Lucy, the chambermaid, will bring them up.”

  “But surely Lord Seabrooke does not think he can keep Christabel caged in the nursery forever. A child needs exercise, and fresh air!”

&n
bsp; Mrs. Abbott pursed her thin lips. “To tell the truth, I am not certain that his lordship has thought very far ahead. He only had the child brought to this house ten days ago. There wasn’t much else he could do when her nurse left her, her mama being dead and all.”

  “Oh! Poor thing!” exclaimed Frederica sympathetically, glancing over her shoulder at Christabel. “But I should say it was the least he could do, under the circumstances.” She was not schooled enough in the ways of the world to realize that most men would ignore such a child.

  “He’s always been good as gold to the little mite, and to Miss Amity, too. Some may call him a bit wild, but his heart is in the right place.”

  “Miss Amity is Christabel’s mother?” Frederica knew Milly would not approve of her asking, but she was here to discover all she could, after all.

  Mrs. Abbott nodded. “He always made it a point to visit her and the child two or three times a year. It fair broke his heart when she died a few months ago—right before he succeeded to the title, that was.”

  So! thought Frederica. He had apparently continued his relationship with the woman long after Christabel’s birth—until fairly recently, in fact. But he had never married her, in spite of the child. No doubt she had been too poor to tempt him, she thought in disgust.

  “He tried to keep the child’s old nurse on, but she wanted more than he could afford, it seems,” Mrs. Abbott continued. “He even gave up his fancy women and entertainments for a time to pay rent on the house in the country after Miss Amity died, rather than neglect what he saw as his duty. When the nurse gave notice, he let the house go and brought the child here. Now that he’s come about, though, I imagine he’ll be his old self in no time. You know what young men are, miss.”

  Frederica tried not to shudder at the thought of Lord Seabrooke—her fiancé!—keeping mistresses even while he had this child and her mother tucked away in the country somewhere. This was worse than she had imagined! And as to his fortune… “You say he was without money only a month or two ago?” she asked. “Why was that?”