by Jen Turano
“I’m sure that’s not true, but is that one of the reasons you don’t want to call Everett ‘Uncle’?”
“Maybe.”
Millie blew out a breath as she came to the immediate, and rather troubling, conclusion that there were many different problems swirling around this family, all at the same time. “I don’t claim to know much about attorneys, Elizabeth, but I’m going to hazard a guess and say Everett was trying to locate this Mr. Victor because he needed assistance sorting out your father’s affairs, unless your father had an estate manager to look after those affairs.”
“I don’t know what an estate manager is, but Mr. Victor was Daddy’s good friend and business partner, that’s why he always looked after everything—even the investments I heard Daddy talk about all the time.”
“Your father had a lot of stocks and bonds?”
“Daddy invested in inventors and was always being sent new inventions to look at. We even had a large barn that was set clear back from our house that was filled with all kinds of interesting gadgets.” Elizabeth smiled a genuine smile. “My mother was forever getting annoyed about all the things exploding out there, but if Daddy found an invention he believed in, he’d give the inventor money.” Her lip began trembling again. “He shouldn’t have given the inventor of a peculiar-looking buggy any money, though, since the wheels weren’t stable on that invention, and that’s what . . .”
As Elizabeth’s lips pressed firmly together, Millie didn’t need her to finish what she’d been about to say. Fred Burkhart, along with his wife, had seemingly been killed while trying out some new invention, but before she could question Elizabeth further, Rosetta appeared by Millie’s side and gave her skirt a sharp tug.
“Miss Abigail told me she’s not going to be staying with us now.”
“Should I assume you think that’s my fault?” Millie asked.
Rosetta nodded. “She’s probably scared you’ll tie her up like you did to us.”
“Abigail knows I would never tie her up. And even if I did, I’m sure you and your siblings would use those new untying skills you acquired just yesterday to set her free.”
Rosetta crossed her arms over her little chest, looking just a bit smug. “You sure did seem surprised to find us untied when you walked into the nursery.”
“I certainly was surprised, and curious beyond belief to learn how you were able to manage such a great feat. You should know that I’m still waiting with bated breath to learn how you got untied, and also know that I was very impressed by your perseverance to get yourselves untied, and perseverance means determination, by the way.”
Rosetta wrinkled her nose, leaving Millie with the distinct impression the little girl was not exactly in the right frame of mind for a vocabulary lesson. Fighting back a smile, Millie leaned closer to the child. “I’m sorry you’re disappointed about Miss Abigail no longer staying at Seaview Cottage with us, but I’m sure we’ll see her often.”
“Why did she change her mind?” Rosetta pressed.
Not wanting to tell the little girl that she thought Abigail was repairing to her own cottage so that she’d have peace and quiet in order to formulate a new plotting strategy, Millie settled for a shrug and a smile. “Sometimes, when a person reaches a rather advanced age, they prefer a calm atmosphere, something Abigail probably realized she wouldn’t find at Seaview.”
“I do believe you just called me old,” Abigail said as she joined them, holding firmly onto Thaddeus’s hand. “But since Mr. Andrews, our charming steward, is standing right behind you, we’ll put the discussion of my ancient age aside for now.”
Turning, Millie caught sight of the steward in question, a very nice gentleman who was dressed in a smart suit of navy, and a gentleman who seemed to be smiling very brightly her way. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, Millie couldn’t help notice the fact that Abigail was suddenly looking far too interested in Mr. Andrews.
“I’ve come to tell you, Miss Longfellow, that the chef is almost finished preparing a most delicious lunch for you, Mrs. Hart, and the children.” Mr. Andrews extended his arm. “It would be my honor to escort you to the dining room.”
Before Millie could do more than blink in Mr. Andrews’s direction, Thaddeus, to her relief, drew everyone’s attention.
“I don’t want lunch,” he said. “I might miss seeing more whales.”
Stepping around Mr. Andrews, Millie moved right up to Thaddeus and knelt beside him. “While I agree that watching whales is great fun, you must know that you can’t stay on deck by yourself. Since I’m not exactly steady on my feet, someone will need to stay out here with us, and I’m afraid that someone will have to be Elizabeth since she’s very good at keeping you safe.” Millie lowered her voice. “She won’t tell you this because she’s a wonderful big sister, and as such, doesn’t like to disappoint you, but I think she might be hungry.”
Thaddeus looked at Elizabeth, who for once wasn’t saying anything, then back to Millie as his forehead creased. “Do you think there’ll be cake?”
“Chef made a chocolate cake,” Mr. Andrews answered before Millie could. “And he also made ice cream to go with that cake.”
Giving the ocean one last longing look, Thaddeus let out a pathetic sigh before he walked over to Mr. Andrews, obviously taking the man by surprise when he grabbed hold of the arm that had only recently been offered to Millie. Then, with Rosetta and Elizabeth joining him, he proceeded to tug the steward across the deck before vanishing through the doorway.
“That Mr. Andrews is just a lovely gentleman, and he seems to have a great liking for children,” Abigail said, her tone practically oozing with satisfaction.
“He seems very pleasant, but I’m no more in the market for a steward than I am for an annoying society gentleman.”
“Have I mentioned to you how remarkably pleased I am with the progress you’re making with the children?”
Millie blinked. “That’s a fairly rapid change of topics, even for you, but since it’s apparent we’re now on the subject of the children, you must know that they’re in the midst of planning some type of mutiny.”
Abigail reached out and took hold of Millie’s arm. “Oh, undoubtedly, but you just got Thaddeus to agree to what you wanted him to do. That’s progress.” She smiled. “And speaking of annoying society gentlemen, you are going to ask Everett to join us for lunch, aren’t you?”
Millie blinked again. “I don’t believe we were speaking of annoying society gentlemen, and no, I don’t think it’s my place to ask Everett to join us for lunch. If you’ve forgotten, although he certainly hasn’t, I’m just the nanny.”
“And as such, it’s your duty to let him know when he’s being negligent in regard to his responsibilities. It has not escaped my notice that he spends relatively little time with the children. Those children need a guiding influence in their little lives, and since Everett has been given the privilege of raising them, that guiding influence needs to come from him.”
“He won’t appreciate me lecturing him, Abigail.”
“Perhaps not, but as you’ve stated before, working with children is a calling for you. Because of that, I would imagine God expects you to intervene with Everett and convince him to change his neglectful ways.”
“Everett probably doesn’t have the least idea he’s being negligent. Why, having worked in society all these years, I’ve yet to find society parents who spend much time with their children, because distance is all the rage and has been for years.”
Abigail lifted her chin. “Distance is a mistake I made with my daughter, and I will not watch Everett make that same mistake. But, since he’s evidently still a bit put out with me over what I now believe was an ill-timed matchmaking attempt, you’re going to have to act in my stead.”
“Maybe you should just tell Everett you’ve learned your lesson regarding the whole matchmaking business, which will allow you to get back in his good graces.”
“Thaddeus,” Abigail continued, completely
ignoring Millie’s suggestion, “is in desperate need of male companionship. He would enjoy having Everett sit down to lunch with him. That would allow Everett the opportunity of getting to know the boy better, as well as the girls, which just might put an end to Miss Dixon’s ridiculous idea of sending the children off to boarding school.”
“How did you know about the boarding school plan since I have yet to mention it to you, having only heard about it yesterday?”
“Elizabeth told me. She’s very upset with the idea, and who can blame her?”
Millie blew out a breath. “Fine, I’ll go see about getting Everett to join us for lunch, but I’m not promising I’ll be successful.”
“You won’t know until you try, dear.” Abigail reached up and smoothed a hand over Millie’s hair. “You might want to consider fixing this mess on top of your head before you do anything though. It’s looking a tad frightening at the moment.” With a last pat to Millie’s cheek, Abigail smiled and hurried away.
Left alone on the deck, Millie allowed herself the luxury of taking a moment to gather her thoughts. Lifting her face to the sky, she sent up a small prayer asking for guidance as well as a good dose of patience since she was about to go off and deal with Everett. She then straightened her spine and headed into the yacht. Walking down the narrow passageway, she peered into one room after the next, impressed in spite of herself by how well turned out the yacht was. It was equipped with everything one would find in an actual house, complete with walls painted in a soft shade of cream paired with matching furniture—although that furniture had been bolted to the floor. Poking her head through yet another doorway, she stilled when she caught sight of Everett. He was sitting behind a desk, reading what appeared to be a . . . novel.
Irritation was immediate. Taking a step into the room, she stopped, crossed her arms over her chest, and waited for him to notice her.
Unfortunately, the wait turned into a rather long one.
“You’ll be pleased to learn that these fancy cork jackets really do a remarkable job of keeping a person afloat,” she heard spill out of her mouth after a full minute had passed.
Everett, annoyingly enough, kept reading, but then his head snapped up and he narrowed his eyes on her. “I do beg your pardon, Millie, I was completely engrossed in my book, but . . . what did you just say? Something about keeping a person afloat?”
“I said these jackets are remarkably effective.” She twirled around to show off the jacket she was wearing.
Everett shot out of the chair before she could finish her twirling. “Where are the children?” he demanded as he rushed for the door, scowling down at her when she, seemingly unable to help herself, moved to block his way.
“They’re languishing, which means lingering, in the ocean, having a most marvelous time of it, I might add.”
Everett actually picked her up and set her aside right before he froze. “Elizabeth was right, Miss Longfellow. You really are a lunatic.”
“And you, Mr. Mulberry, are rapidly turning out to be a rather unlikeable sort,” Millie shot back. “Do you honestly believe if the children had gone overboard that I’d waste time seeking out your assistance instead of jumping into the ocean after them?”
“You don’t know how to swim.”
“Which is why I’m wearing this jacket, and which is also why, because you know I can’t swim, you should have stayed topside with the children instead of burying yourself in here with what appears to be some type of novel.” She peered over at the desk, but couldn’t make out what he was reading. “Did you forget the children’s fascination with walking the plank?”
“They were considering walking a plank?”
“Don’t be silly,” Millie said with a sniff. “After what happened the last time they tried that game, I do think their interest in that has dimmed simultaneously.”
Everett’s brows drew together. “Simultaneously?”
Fumbling with the cork jacket, Millie stuck her hand in a pocket and retrieved her dictionary. Flipping through the pages, she glanced over different words. “Ah, here we go. I think significantly might have been what I meant to say.” She lifted her head and refused to sigh when she realized Everett was now scowling her way.
“Why would you bring up the whole plank business when you knew the children had abandoned their interest in it?” he asked.
“You annoyed me.”
“The amount of money I’m currently paying you to nanny the children should hold any and all annoyance you may think you feel for me at bay.”
“Even if you paid me twice what you are, I’d still get annoyed with you on a frequent basis.”
“I’m not paying you additional funds to keep your annoyance in check.”
“I don’t remember asking you to,” Millie said as Everett stalked back to his desk and then pointed to a chair that was bolted to the floor opposite him.
“Mr. Mulberry, you don’t believe that’s an acceptable way of asking me to take a seat, do you?”
A stabbing of a finger to the chair once more was his only reply.
Taking a second to fasten herself back into the cork jacket, even as an odd and somewhat inappropriate sense of amusement settled over her, Millie walked over to the indicated chair and took a seat. Placing her hands demurely in her lap, she watched as Everett lowered into his own chair.
Thrusting a hand through hair that was distinctly untidy, he caught her eye. “Was there a reason behind your interrupting my reading?”
“I’m sure there was, but that reason escapes me at the moment.” She sat forward. “What are you reading?”
Everett’s face turned a little red as he snatched the book off the desk and stuffed it into a drawer.
Millie leaned back in the chair. “Very well, since you don’t seem to want to exchange the expected pleasantries, let us move on to what I’ve suddenly recalled I wanted to speak with you about. We need to discuss the children and the part you need to play in their lives, as well as discuss how you’re going to go about telling Miss Dixon it would be a horrible idea for you to send the children away to a boarding school.”
Opening the drawer, Everett yanked out the book he’d just stashed away, and pushed it Millie’s way. “I think I’d rather discuss this.”
Picking up the book, she looked at the title. “You’re reading Pride and Prejudice?”
“I am, but don’t tell anyone. It could ruin my reputation as a manly gentleman.”
The amusement that was still bubbling through her increased. “I doubt that, but tell me, what do you think about the story so far?”
“I think it’s unfortunate that Lizzy is not better connected, because she would be perfect for Mr. Darcy if she came from money.”
Millie shoved the book back at him as every ounce of amusement disappeared in a flash. “You don’t believe that Mr. Darcy might be just a tad too prideful since he believes he’s superior to Lizzy?”
“He’s one of the richest men in England,” Everett said, returning the book to the drawer and giving it a somewhat longing look before he caught Millie’s eye. “Of course he’s superior to Lizzy.”
Fighting the impulse to tell him he was a bit of an idiot, because that was a guaranteed way of getting dismissed, Millie forced a smile. “Perhaps it would be best to continue this discussion after you finish the book. But, tell me, why in the world are you reading a romance novel?”
“I needed something to keep me occupied while evading Abigail and her meddling ways, and since you spoke so highly of Jane Austen, I thought I’d give her a try.”
“You’re reading it because I enjoy Jane Austen?”
“Well, yes. You also mentioned you enjoy Frankenstein, but I couldn’t find a copy of that in my library, so I decided I’d read a book of Jane’s instead.”
Pleasure shot through her, until she remembered that she really didn’t like Everett at the moment, especially considering his completely mistaken opinion about Pride and Prejudice.
“And
speaking of Abigail, where is your chaperone?” Everett asked.
“Did I neglect to tell you that she’s changed her mind about that?”
“She’s come to her senses, has she?”
“I don’t know if I’d go that far, but she has decided to stay at her own cottage in Newport, and . . . I’m hopeful she’ll abandon all attempts at matchmaking in regard to the two of us, especially since we were so vocal with our opposition to the idea.”
A discreet knock on the doorframe interrupted whatever Everett had been about to say. Turning her head, Millie found Mr. Andrews, the steward, pushing a cart covered with silver domes into the room. He stopped the cart directly beside a small table, and after nodding at Everett, he turned his attention to Millie and sent her a charming smile.
“Mrs. Hart was concerned your meal would get cold, Miss Longfellow, which is why she suggested I deliver it to you, along with a meal for Mr. Mulberry.” He whipped off silver lids, placed china plates on the table, added glasses of lemonade, and then pulled out a chair and resumed smiling at Millie.
“I thought I told Abigail I was going to join her and the children directly,” Millie said as she rose to her feet and moved a step Mr. Andrews’ way.
If anything, Mr. Andrews’ smile widened. “The children turned out to be ravenous, Miss Longfellow, which is why Mrs. Hart allowed them to begin eating without you. Since they seem quite capable of demolishing a meal at a very rapid rate of speed, she told me to tell you that the children will probably be finished with their meal before you’ll be able to join them. She also wanted me to mention that there’s no reason for you to hurry with your own lunch, since she’s planning on teaching the children a new card game.” His smile dimmed just a touch. “And begging your pardon for this—although it comes directly from Mrs. Hart, not me—she believes that the children will not appreciate your company as they’re playing cards.”
“They’re probably afraid Millie will decide to do something dastardly to them, such as bilk them out of their allowances, or . . .”
“Honestly, how you do go on, especially since I don’t gamble,” Millie interrupted before she returned her attention to Mr. Andrews, who was still holding out the chair for her. Before she had an opportunity to take even a single step forward, Everett was right by her side, taking her by the arm. As he prodded her toward the table, he arched a brow at Mr. Andrews, who immediately stepped aside.