In Good Company

by Jen Turano

  Getting three children into bed had turned out to be a very difficult task indeed. Glasses of water were requested—and not at the same time—and then Elizabeth had decided to launch into a very long speech about why she and her siblings didn’t need a nanny. That had gone far in explaining why they’d waited up for him in the first place.

  By the time he’d finally gotten them settled, without the nanny issue resolved to anyone’s satisfaction, it had been after midnight. Stumbling into his bed, he’d immediately fallen asleep but had been rudely woken up at the unheard of hour of six by the children. They’d claimed they were ravenous and needed him to find them some breakfast. Why they hadn’t simply sought out the cook on their own was still beyond his comprehension.

  To his relief, Millie had shown up at exactly seven o’clock, lugging her one traveling bag into his house, far too chipper than a person had a right to be at such an early hour.

  When she learned they would not be traveling to Newport that morning, she’d not batted an eye and proclaimed the delay would give her much-needed time to become better acquainted with the children. He hadn’t missed the sneaky glances his wards shared after that pronouncement. But since he’d needed to get ready to escort Caroline to the dock, he’d warned the children to behave, warned Millie to try her best not to drown anyone, and left the house a short time later, leaving muttering children and an annoyed nanny behind.

  Now, five hours after giving those warnings, he was finally returning home. Repocketing the watch, he trudged around the front of the house and then up the steps, finding himself staring at a door that, peculiarly enough, remained closed against him.

  A sense of alarm was immediate.

  Moving forward, he pushed the door open, stepped inside, and found dread mixing with the alarm when Mr. Macon, who was truly the most competent butler Everett had ever met, didn’t immediately come into view.

  Striding down the hallway, he cocked an ear, but when only silence met that ear, his heart began beating a rapid tattoo. The rapid thumping came to an abrupt end when Millie suddenly glided out of the library. Unlike the night before, she was not dressed in a fancy gown but was wearing a sensible dark skirt paired with a white blouse that was covered with a practical apron. Her hair was tucked beneath a cap that for some reason bothered him, and when she took another step forward, he noticed her shoes didn’t sport much of a heel. Her nose was firmly stuck between the pages of a book, and she didn’t appear to be in any way distressed, but . . . she also didn’t appear to be in possession of any of the children.

  “What are you doing?” he finally asked when she remained oblivious to him.

  The book dropped from Millie’s face as she raised a hand to her chest. “My goodness, Everett, you scared me half to death.” She smiled, the action causing a dimple he’d never noticed before to pop out on her cheek. “I do hope you don’t mind, but I simply couldn’t resist taking a peek around your library. I’m thrilled to report you have a Jane Austen novel I haven’t read in ages.” She held the book up and beamed at him. “Would it be permissible for me to take this book with us when we leave for Newport tomorrow?”

  “You may take whatever books you desire from my library, even though there is a library at my cottage in Newport.”

  Her eyes widened. “How in the world do you manage to get any work done when you’re surrounded by so many books?”

  “I rarely have time to read these days.”

  She sent him a sympathetic smile. “That’s truly unfortunate, but I do understand. There’ve been many times when I’ve been gainfully employed when I can only squeeze reading in late at night. Sometimes I end up regretting that decision in the morning, but I don’t think reading is a pleasure I’ll ever be able to abandon.”

  Her earnestness had him smiling, until he remembered the silence of the house. “I must admit that learning you’re a voracious reader does take me by surprise, but books aside, do you happen to know where Mr. Macon is?”

  Millie ignored his question. “Why does my reading take you by surprise?”

  From the manner in which her eyes had begun to spark, Everett realized he just might have made a bit of a blunder. “Ah, well . . . I’ve never known a person in service who enjoys reading.”

  “Have you ever taken the time to get to know any people in service?”

  His collar began to feel rather tight. “Well . . . ah . . .”

  “Of course you haven’t,” Millie finished for him as she tucked a strand of hair that had escaped the cap back into place and sent him a somewhat irritated look. “But getting back to your question regarding your butler, Mr. Macon very kindly offered to go to Abigail’s house and pack up some toys Abigail has in her attic so that the children will have something new to play with once we arrive in Newport.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve been informed by Elizabeth that most of their toys are still back in their old home, which is slightly puzzling to me since you’ve had responsibility for them for . . . how long?”

  His collar turned a touch tighter. “A little over five months, but . . . I wasn’t aware the children were missing most of their toys.”

  “I see.”

  Those two words, spoken in a voice that had turned rather knowing, set Everett’s teeth on edge. Deciding to turn the conversation away from his apparent failure as a guardian, Everett took a step closer to her. “Speaking of the children, aren’t you supposed to be watching them at the moment?”

  “Of course.”

  He glanced around the hallway. “Where are they?”

  “They’re perfectly fine.” She dropped her voice to the merest whisper. “I’ve tied them up in the nursery.”

  For a moment, he thought he’d misheard her. “Forgive me, but you didn’t just say you’ve tied up the children, did you?”

  “Indeed I did.”

  “It’s little wonder you get dismissed so often if you make a habit of tying up your charges while you wander through libraries perusing romance novels.”

  “Oh, I’ve never tied children up before today. . . . Well, except for some children in my youth, but that hardly counts, since I was a child myself.” She held up a hand. “Before you dismiss me—something your expression clearly states you long to do—the whole tying-up business was the children’s idea.”

  “You would have me believe they wanted you to tie them up?”

  The dimple on Millie’s cheek popped out again as she grinned. “Don’t be silly. If you must know, they insisted on tying me up first, but obviously, since I’m standing in front of you, I was able to free myself.” Her grin widened. “In the spirit of fair play, I convinced them it was their turn to be held captive, although I don’t think the children thought their little game was going to have this particular outcome.”

  Everett headed for the stairs. “I’m going to go release them.”

  “You’ll put a damper on our fun if you do.”

  Not bothering to address that ridiculous statement, he took the stairs two at a time, breathing somewhat heavily by the time he reached the third floor. Wiping a hand across his perspiring brow, he headed for the nursery, coming to an abrupt halt after he stepped across the threshold.

  Elizabeth, Rosetta, and Thaddeus were firmly tied to three straight-back chairs, looking completely forlorn, and for some reason, they seemed to be rather wet. Spinning on his heel, he narrowed his eyes at Millie, who’d followed him into the nursery, and annoyingly enough, she wasn’t perspiring in the least from her climb up three steep flights of stairs.

  “Why are they wet?”

  Millie gave an airy wave of her hand. “Oh, that was from before, when we were playing an exhilarating game of walking the plank, and exhilarating means invigorating if you didn’t know.”

  “I distinctly remember cautioning you against trying to drown the children before I left this morning.”

  “What an interesting imagination you have, Everett, especially since the game of walking the plank was yet another one of the
children’s ideas,” Millie returned. “Since I agreed to go first, if there were any thoughts of drowning a person, I do believe those thoughts originated with the three little angels currently glaring at me. Why, it’s truly only because I’m fleet of foot that I was able to make it across the plank without falling in, especially when obstacles were thrown my way, such as sticks, mud, and I do believe, a shoe.”

  She shook out the folds of her dry skirt. “As you can see, I was able to cross successfully. I then encouraged the children to follow me, which they did, but . . . alas, they were not as successful as I was at navigating across the plank.”

  “She threatened us with a really big snake when we were in the very middle of the fountain,” Elizabeth said, speaking up in a voice that shook with indignation. “We could have died a horrible death if the poisonous thing had bitten us.”

  Millie smiled. “What a wonderful imagination you have, dear, quite as good as the one Everett possesses, and a flair for the theatrical, I must add. Why, I thought since the three of you seem to have a liking for slimy creatures, and you also seem to like sharing those slimy creatures with others, such as Mrs. Smithey, you’d want to add the snake I found to the rest of your collection of peculiar pets. How could I have possibly known all three of you are frightened of snakes?” She nodded at Elizabeth, just once, although to Everett it almost seemed as if something unspoken swirled between Millie and the young girl.

  Before he could dwell on that idea, though, Millie turned back to him. “Since you look as if you’re contemplating bodily harm, that being my body in question, I must tell you that it was just a little garden snake. And it’s not as if I tossed it at the children—I simply held it up as I got back on the plank to join them.” Her lips began twitching. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone jump off a plank so quickly, and then, well, watching the children try to run through water to get away from me and my tiny little snake was absolutely . . . amusing.”

  “She’s a lunatic, Mr. Mulberry,” Elizabeth declared, “and I want you to get rid of her right this second.”

  Before Everett could think of a single reply to that, especially since he wasn’t certain Elizabeth was exactly wrong with the whole lunatic theory, Millie stepped forward, all signs of amusement gone from her face. “Did you just call Everett . . . Mr. Mulberry?”

  “That is his name,” Elizabeth said.

  Suddenly finding himself pinned beneath Millie’s glare, Everett forced a smile. “May I presume you have a problem with the children calling me Mr. Mulberry?”

  “I do.” Millie swung her attention back to Elizabeth. “From this point forward, all three of you shall address Mr. Mulberry as . . . Uncle Everett.”

  Elizabeth immediately turned hostile. “We don’t want to call him Uncle Everett,” she said as the twins nodded in obvious agreement.

  “It’s not up for debate,” Millie countered.

  “Is it up for debate that he calls us the brats?” Elizabeth shot back.

  Millie squared her shoulders, shot him another glare, and returned her attention to the children. “He will no longer be using that particular endearment, but now, if you three will excuse us, I feel a distinct need to go over a few things with your Uncle Everett in private.” She stepped closer to him, took a firm hold of his arm, and immediately began prodding him toward the door.

  “You’re just going to leave us tied up like this?” Elizabeth called after them.

  Stopping in her tracks, Millie looked over her shoulder. “Did you, or did you not, tie me up and not offer me even a smidgen of help getting untied?”

  For a moment, Elizabeth looked a little uncomfortable, but only for a moment. “It took you less than a minute to get undone.”

  “True,” Millie replied with a nod. “And since that is a skill that has come in handy for me over the years, I’m going to allow you the supreme treat of being able to practice your untying skills for just a bit longer.” Ignoring the sputters that were coming from the children, Millie practically pushed him out of the nursery, pulling the door firmly closed behind them.

  “I’m not comfortable leaving them tied up.”

  “I’m sure you’re not, but if you go back and untie them, you’ll ruin any chance I might have of bringing the children in line.”

  For a second, he resisted her words, but then, something about the intensity of her gaze had him releasing a sigh. “I’ll give you five minutes to explain what you’re up to, but after that, I will see the children released.”

  Without giving him a response, Millie began striding down the hallway, and then down the steps, leaving him with no choice but to follow her. She reached the first floor and headed into the library, where she immediately took a seat on a settee done up in ivory that was situated between two dainty tables he’d had imported from Europe. “You may sit beside me.” She patted the spot right next to her.

  After taking a seat beside her, while feeling a little off-balance over the idea Millie didn’t seem to have any qualms about ordering him around, he looked up and found her watching him closely. “Was there something specific you wished to discuss with me?” he asked.

  Millie lifted her chin. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m a very good nanny. A misunderstood nanny, but a very good one nevertheless.”

  “You believe tying up helpless children is being a good nanny?”

  “I’m teaching them an important lesson. They need to understand the consequences of their actions.” She shook her head. “I’m sure your wards were not always so ill-behaved but are simply acting out due to the death of their parents. But even though the children have suffered a tremendous loss, they cannot continue behaving in such an . . . execrable manner.” She grinned. “I knew I’d find a use for that word.”

  “And you put it to good use indeed, but getting back to what you’re trying to teach the children?”

  The grin disappeared. “They need a few lessons tossed their way, and the tossing of those lessons is probably not going to be very pleasant. That means I need you to put your indigestion aside, and allow me to do what needs to be done, unpleasant or not.”

  “While I readily admit that trying to follow your rather odd logic is enough to give me a whopping case of indigestion, I think the word you might have meant to say was indignation.”

  Millie blinked. “I knew I shouldn’t have gotten a little arrogant with the whole execrable business, but you’re right—indignation is probably exactly what I meant to say. Still, pesky words aside, in order for me to be successful with the children, you’re going to have to trust that I know what I’m doing.”

  “I’m having a difficult time with that, considering my wards are currently tied up in the nursery—and there is that troubling past of yours to contend with. You do seem to have a most unfortunate propensity for getting dismissed from positions on an alarmingly frequent basis.”

  “I will agree that my past employment disasters are a mark against me, but my many dismissals have never been caused by me not performing my job to the best of my abilities, and those abilities are quite impressive, if I do say so myself.”

  Everett quirked a brow her way.

  Millie began fiddling with the folds of her apron. “I’m not explaining very well, am I?”

  “I don’t believe we can consider anything you’ve said thus far as an actual explanation.”

  “I should just start at the very beginning, from clear back in the day when I first went out into service.”

  “Clear back in the day?”

  “Well, yes, because I went out into service when I was twelve, and since I’m twenty-four now, that was certainly clear back in the day.”

  His stomach immediately turned a little queasy. Millie was the same age as Caroline, but whereas Caroline had been enjoying school, social events, and traveling, Millie had been put out to work when she’d been little more than a child.

  “ . . . and then, when I got fired as a lowly kitchen maid, all because I wasn’t the best potato peel
er in the world, I thought I was going to be out on the streets since I didn’t have a penny to call my own.”

  “You were a kitchen maid?”

  Millie frowned. “Have you not been listening to a word I’ve said? Yes, I was a kitchen maid, an upstairs maid, and I even worked in the stables once. I had to disguise myself as a boy for that position, which, surprisingly enough, wasn’t much fun. It even turned a little scary when the head groom discovered my little bit of subterfuge, which means deception, by the way, and threw me out of the stable.”

  It took a great deal of effort on Everett’s part not to laugh, but there was something vastly amusing about Millie’s habit of spewing out words and definitions. He’d never known anyone who was so fascinated with the dictionary, but he forced all lingering amusement aside when he noticed she’d taken to scowling at him. “Sorry,” he managed to say. “Continue, if you please.”

  “As I was saying, I’d been turned out without a reference and didn’t know how I was going to obtain another position. But then I met Reverend Thomas Gilmore.” Millie smiled. “I believe you’ve made the acquaintance of that delightful gentleman as well.”

  Everett returned the smile. “I have indeed, and from what little I know about the man, he seems to be a kind and sensible soul.”

  “That’s exactly right.” Millie settled back against the settee. “He makes a habit of looking out for the underprivileged, and I was certainly that on the day I met him. He took me under his wing, found me a place to live, introduced me to Lucetta, and later, Harriet, and began to help me develop a plan for my life.”

  Millie bit her lip, a surprisingly endearing action. “I thought for certain Reverend Gilmore wouldn’t be of much help in that regard. But it soon became clear that he has a distinct talent for planning people’s lives. After questioning me for hours about my life, especially the time I spent in the orphanage, he concluded that my calling was not in cleaning but in looking after children.”