In Good Company

by Jen Turano

  Miss Longfellow’s unladylike snort saved Everett from a response.

  “From what Mr. Mulberry told me,” Miss Longfellow began, “Thaddeus’s pet is nothing more than a little frog, and what harm could one of those do to a person?” Miss Longfellow shook her head. “In my humble opinion, this Mrs. Smithey is obviously in the wrong profession. I do hope you’ll refuse to place her with another family, Mrs. Patterson, especially since she seems to have a troubling tendency for dramatic displays.”

  Everett found himself shuddering ever so slightly when Mrs. Patterson drew herself up.

  “Mrs. Smithey has never been dismissed from a position due to unfortunate shenanigans, which certainly cannot be said about you, Miss Longfellow.”

  Mrs. Patterson lifted her chin. “Now then, before I decide to wash my hands of both of you, I suggest we set aside all attempts at nonsense and repair to my office.” She turned and disappeared through the door.

  “I do believe she’s rather annoyed with us,” Miss Longfellow said before she brightened. “But she didn’t say she was washing her hands of us, so all hope hasn’t been lost just yet.” She caught his eye. “Would you be a dear and fetch my bag for me? The one I dropped when you knocked me over. It’s lying there all forlorn on the sidewalk.”

  Unable to remember the last time someone had call him a dear, and asked him to fetch something, Everett’s lips curled into a grin, and he ambled over to the bag and bent down to pick it up. Grabbing hold of the worn handle, he straightened . . . but wobbled when the weight of the bag took him by surprise. “What in the world do you have in here?”

  “Essentials.”

  “What type of essentials could possibly weigh this much?”

  “Well, if you must know, since I was intending on spending the next nine weeks employed by the Cutler family before I got unfairly dismissed, I had to pack enough reading material to see me through that extended period of time. In that bag rests a few of my favorite dictionaries, one thesaurus, my Bible, numerous works by Shakespeare, although I’m not exactly enjoying his writing, and two books by the incomparable Jane Austen.” She smiled. “Those I enjoy tremendously, but besides my treasured books, I also have a few changes of clothing, an extra pair of shoes, and, well, I won’t go into further details, since what’s left to mention will most likely embarrass us both.”

  Hefting the bag up the steps, Everett followed Miss Longfellow through the door and dropped the bag, not surprised in the least when a loud thud sounded around them. “Are you telling me you fit everything you needed for two months into this one bag?”

  “Well, not everything. I did want to include a lovely collection of poems by Lord Byron I found for a pittance at an outdoor market, along with my well-read copy of Frankenstein, but there simply wasn’t enough room to stuff them into my bag.”

  Everett frowned. “Miss Dixon sent her ‘essentials’ off to Newport two days ago, and it took three wagons to get her bags to the steamship.”

  “Miss Dixon, being of the society set, is expected to change clothing at least six times per day,” Miss Longfellow countered. “She’s also expected to not wear the same clothing too often, if at all, so I’m not surprised she had numerous trunks and bags. I, being a nanny, only have need of two sets of sensible clothing that I wear as I take care of the children, and two other outfits for when I’m at my leisure, which isn’t often during the summer months.”

  “How many hours are you expected to work in a day during the summer, and . . . don’t you get days off in every week?”

  “I get a half day off every week, and the hours I work per day vary according to when the children go off to bed and if they stay in bed.”

  Disbelief held him silent for a moment, but only for a moment. “You might want to work on your negotiating skills, Miss Longfellow. The women I’ve hired to look after my wards—and there have been many of them—have all received at least one full day off per week, sometimes two depending on how desperate I am, and they only work, at the very most, ten hours per day.”

  “Miss Longfellow has a dismal employment record,” Mrs. Patterson said, sticking her head out the office door. “Which means she has very little negotiating room, although that circumstance may soon change since I know perfectly well the extent of your desperation.” She gestured him forward. “If you ask me, the only solution to both of your problems is for the two of you to join forces, especially since I’m rapidly coming to the belief that you might just deserve each other.” With that, she vanished from sight again.

  “I told you she was going to come to that conclusion,” Everett said as he followed Miss Longfellow into Mrs. Patterson’s office.

  “I don’t appreciate your attitude, Mr. Mulberry,” Miss Longfellow said before she took a seat in an uncomfortable-looking chair. “Nor do I appreciate the idea that you think this situation we’re currently in is my fault. If you would have simply considered hiring me when you first learned I was a nanny, you would not now be in a desperate frame of mind.”

  “Only because I probably wouldn’t still have the responsibility of my wards if I’d hired you. You might have lost them by now or—”

  “It would not be in your best interest to finish that sentence, sir,” Miss Longfellow interrupted. “I have never—and I repeat, never—caused any of the children in my care to come to any harm.”

  “What about that little Billy? I distinctly remember you telling me you almost drowned him.”

  “You’re forgetting the story. It is true that I was a little misinformed about how children can learn to swim, but if you’ll recall, after tossing little Billy into the water, I had second thoughts and jumped in after him. He proved that I wasn’t completely off the mark, since he immediately paddled to shore—whereas I promptly sank.”

  “I’m certainly glad you cleared that up for me. I now feel so much more confident in your abilities.”

  “Honestly, the two of you are enough to set a person’s head to pounding.” Mrs. Patterson leaned forward across her desk, raising her voice because Miss Longfellow had begun to mumble under her breath. “Am I to understand, given the familiarity the two of you are currently showing each other, that you’ve been acquainted for quite some time?”

  When Miss Longfellow stopped mumbling and pressed her lips together, Everett had no choice but to answer for both of them. “We are acquainted with each other, but I wouldn’t go so far as to claim we’re overly familiar with each other.”

  Mrs. Patterson settled back in the chair. “Why then, pray tell, haven’t you simply hired Miss Longfellow to watch over your wards?”

  “Do you really believe there needs to be another explanation other than the fact I’m slightly acquainted with her? Really, Mrs. Patterson, this is Miss Longfellow we’re discussing.”

  “I am still in the room.” Miss Longfellow crossed her arms over her chest. “And I’m beginning to take issue with the way this conversation is going.”

  Mrs. Patterson ignored her and kept her gaze on Everett. “You, my dear man, are not in a position to be overly selective at the moment. As I seem to recall, you told me you’re behind schedule traveling to Newport—a situation that has your Miss Dixon decidedly put out. Her attitude will certainly not change if she’s forced to miss more of Newport’s summer festivities because you’re unable to find anyone willing to take on the children. Since I have no one available at the moment to travel with you to Newport, other than Miss Longfellow, you’re going to have to put aside whatever qualms you have in regard to her abilities and offer her employment.”

  Mrs. Patterson had the nerve to smile. “She’s really not that bad, and to her credit, children do seem to adore her.”

  “Forgive me, Mrs. Patterson, but I find I’m not quite desperate enough to hire Miss Longfellow. I have been given the responsibility of three children. With that responsibility comes the expectation that I will keep them alive until they reach adulthood. Putting Miss Longfellow in charge of them is truly not the best way for me
to achieve the whole keeping-them-alive part of my plan.”

  “I never realized you were possessed of such a melodramatic nature, Mr. Mulberry,” Mrs. Patterson began. “But while I sympathize slightly with your plight, knowing you never expected to have three children dropped off on your doorstep, I’m afraid you’ve run out of options. Your wards’ reputations precede them, and no one wants to work for you, with the exception of Miss Longfellow.”

  Miss Longfellow suddenly rose to her feet and lifted her chin. “I find I no longer have any desire to work for Mr. Mulberry.”

  Mrs. Patterson waved Miss Longfellow’s protest aside. “Of course you do, dear. Why, he pays top dollar, and you’ll get to spend your summer in Newport. It’s the place to summer these days, and I’ve heard Mr. Mulberry has one of the most impressive cottages there.” She smiled. “It faces the ocean.”

  “Which is exactly why I won’t be taking Miss Longfellow with me to Newport,” Everett argued. “She’ll either drown the children by tossing them into the waves to assess their swimming abilities, or drown herself in the process, leaving me short a nanny once ag—”

  “I wouldn’t work for you even if you offered me two thousand dollars, begged me on bended knee, and brought me flowers.” Miss Longfellow turned her attention to Mrs. Patterson. “If you come across a family other than Mr. Mulberry’s who could use my services, I may be reached at Mrs. Hart’s residence in Washington Square.”

  With that, Miss Longfellow spared him not a single glance before she spun on her heel and stalked out of the office, leaving a distinct smell of ocean in the room.

  One hour later, Everett walked into his Fifth Avenue mansion, unable to fully appreciate the spectacular detail the architect, Mr. Richard Morris Hunt, had accomplished in the entranceway. His gaze didn’t settle as it normally did on the high ceiling with the painted fresco gleaming down at him or on the treasured furnishings that had been found throughout Europe to bring attention to the mahogany woodwork. Due to his dismal frame of mind, he barely remembered to nod at his butler, Mr. Macon, who’d been holding the door open for him since before Everett had even reached the steps. He paused mid-nod, though, when he finally noticed that Mr. Macon was looking a little . . . distracted—something that was completely out of character for the gentleman.

  “Is something wrong, Mr. Macon?” he forced himself to ask.

  Mr. Macon shut the door. “Wrong? Why would you assume something is wrong?”

  Everett cocked a brow. “Since something is always amiss these days, I don’t believe my assumption is farfetched, and . . . the house seems unusually quiet.”

  “As you very well know, sir, most of the staff departed for Newport a few weeks ago to ready the cottage.”

  “And as you well know, Mr. Macon, the staff hasn’t been responsible for the overabundance of noise of late.”

  “True, this is true. But speaking of the staff, I’m certain they’ve gotten Seaview Cottage sufficiently ready by now. They’re probably at loose ends, since they were expecting you in Newport last week.”

  “I’m sure the staff will miss their boredom once I show up with the children in tow.” Everett shook his head. “I certainly wasn’t planning on delaying my trip this long, but due to the antics of my wards, well . . . need I say more?”

  “If I may be so bold, sir, those antics might lessen if you were to take a moment to reassure the children that you have no intention of sending them off to a faraway boarding school in the immediate future.”

  “They know about the boarding school idea?”

  “They’re very good at lurking, sir, especially outside doors where important conversations are taking place.”

  “They lurk outside doors?”

  “Indeed, and can usually be found doing that lurking whenever Miss Dixon comes to visit. And speaking of Miss Dixon, she’s waiting for you in the library.”

  “Caroline’s still here?”

  “Surely you didn’t think she’d go home before learning the outcome of your quest, did you?”

  “I’m afraid she’s doomed for disappointment, because I was less than successful. But . . . I would have to imagine, given the lateness of the hour, that her companion is none too pleased about Caroline waiting for me.”

  “She sent Miss Nora Niesen home an hour ago, sir. From what I understand, Caroline wanted to spend some time alone with the children.”

  “While I should find that encouraging, hearing that Caroline wanted to spend time with the children, it was hardly proper of her to send Miss Niesen away.”

  “Forgive me, sir, but because Miss Niesen is more of a friend to Miss Dixon, especially since she doesn’t get paid, it’s not quite the thing to expect the woman to stay up late because of your situation with your wards.”

  “Perhaps I should encourage Caroline to hire on a real companion.”

  “Or perhaps you should simply hire on a nanny capable of doing her job. I find it difficult to believe that there isn’t at least one woman out there who’s up for the task of bringing your wards in hand.”

  “An excellent point, Mr. Macon, but . . . speaking of my wards, I should probably see how Caroline is faring with them.”

  Sending Mr. Macon a nod, Everett turned on his heel and strode down the hallway. Passing the curved staircase that was the centerpiece of the house, he was almost to the library when he noticed something that slowed his pace to a mere crawl. A priceless painting of a young lady—painted by none other than Bouguereau—seemed to have acquired a mustache placed inexpertly above the young lady’s lip.

  Leaning closer to the painting, he released a sigh when it quickly became evident that someone had, indeed, added his or her own touch to the masterpiece. Deciding that now was not the moment to spend dwelling on this particular situation, he tore his gaze from what was now a less-than-priceless painting and headed into the library. What met his gaze there took him completely by surprise.

  Instead of the chaos and disaster he’d expected, he found Miss Caroline Dixon, looking lovely with her brown hair pulled attractively away from her face and wearing a beautiful gown of striped blue, sitting in a delicate chair upholstered in forest green, sipping a cup of tea. Sitting opposite her, in a matching chair of green and reading out loud, was Elizabeth, the oldest of his wards at eight. The twins, five-year-old Thaddeus and Rosetta, were sitting stiff as pokers on a settee, both of them wearing identical, poorly sewn frocks, not that Thaddeus wearing a frock was an odd sight to see these days.

  Everett accepted full responsibility for the little boy’s refusal to wear anything but dresses. In all fairness, though, there was no possible way he could have known that when Elizabeth had sewn a frock for her little brother, she’d only done so because she didn’t know how to sew pants. When Everett had made the unfortunate error of pointing out that little boys didn’t wear frocks, Thaddeus had turned stubborn. In an obvious attempt to stick up for his sister, he now balked at wearing anything other than the frocks Elizabeth stitched up for him.

  Even though Everett found the situation somewhat amusing, and was impressed with how long Thaddeus had been able to stick to his principles, he knew seeing Thaddeus dressed as a girl day after day was beginning to embarrass Caroline to no small end. That meant he was going to have to figure out a way of getting Thaddeus back into pants one way or another before Caroline took matters into her own hands, a situation that would hardly encourage harmony in his household.

  “What a charming picture all of you make,” he said, stepping farther into the room as Caroline set aside her cup of tea and smiled at him.

  “Everett, I was hoping you’d return soon.” Caroline craned her neck right before her smile slid off her face. “But . . . where’s the new nanny?”

  “I’m afraid I wasn’t successful with that tonight, dear, but don’t fret. I’ll go back to the employment agency in the morning.” He smiled at Elizabeth who was peering at him over the top of her book. “What’s that you’re reading, Elizabeth?”


  Elizabeth Burkhart scrunched up her nose, and for a moment, he didn’t think she was going to respond, but then she held up the book. “Little Women.”

  “That’s a bit of a depressing tale, because if I’m not much mistaken, one of the sisters dies, doesn’t she?”

  Elizabeth snapped the book shut. “I guess there’s no need for me to finish reading it now.”

  Everett winced. “Ah, yes, quite right—sorry about that.” He looked back to Caroline. “Everything go well while I was away?”

  “Everything’s been fine,” Caroline said as she nodded to the twins. “We’ve come to an understanding.”

  Alarm coursed through him. “What kind of an understanding?”

  Caroline waved a hand in the air. “I just went over a few of my expectations for them. Once I explained some of the punishments they might face if they continue on with the mayhem—such as no meals, no frogs, and no fun—well . . . they understand my position. I don’t believe we’ll be seeing any more trouble. Will we, children?” Caroline arched a dainty brow at the twins.

  “No,” Thaddeus and Rosetta said together.

  “No . . . what?” Caroline asked pleasantly.

  For a second, pure mutiny flashed from both the twins’ eyes, but then Rosetta smiled. “No more trouble, Miss Dixon.”

  “Exactly right.” Caroline looked back to Everett. “Now then, returning to the nanny situation. What happened?”

  “Mrs. Patterson doesn’t have anyone available at the moment. Well, not anyone suitable for our needs.”

  “So there was at least someone?”

  “Not really.”

  Caroline picked up her tea and took a sip. “I will be beyond disappointed if we have to delay our trip to Newport again, Everett, especially since I’ve already missed numerous social events. I, along with Miss Niesen, have plans to play tennis at the Casino two days from now with our friends. I will be sorely put out if I have to give up my match because you can’t find help to watch over the children.”

  Rubbing a hand over his face, Everett took a step closer to her. “You and Miss Niesen should go to Newport without me, which is what I suggested to you two weeks ago, when nanny number twelve left my employ. You do have your own cottage after all, given to you by your very indulgent grandmother, and it seems a shame that said cottage is still standing vacant at the moment, except for your staff, of course.”