by Jen Turano
“Well, no, but there was enough damage to require extensive repairs, so the theater will be closed for a good month, perhaps two, leaving me free to travel to Newport.”
“But . . . what will you do for funds?”
Lucetta gave Millie’s arm a pat. “No need to worry about that. I have funds set aside for emergencies, along with a bit of money I make through invest . . . Well, no need to get into that boring business. But my savings aside, I’m pleased to report that since management wanted to ascertain I wouldn’t move on to another theater, they’re paying me my full wage until the repairs have been completed.”
“That’s generous of them.”
“I’m not sure it was exactly generosity that had them offering to continue paying me. From the whispers I’ve overheard, Mr. Grimstone, the author who penned the play, would only allow his masterpiece to be produced if I was given the lead role. That means management can’t afford to lose me.”
“Who exactly is this Mr. Grimstone?” Millie asked.
“No one seems to know. He’s very reclusive, which has rumors swirling around the country. He writes brilliantly, in a dark and brooding style, but with just enough witty dialogue to capture and hold everyone’s attention. This is actually his first play, but his books sell out almost as soon as they hit the shops.” She smiled. “Management is convinced we have the hit of the theater season this year.”
Millie smiled. “Well, I am sorry your theater caught fire, but not sorry that you and I are now going to be able to see each other often this summer.”
Lucetta took hold of Millie’s arm and strolled over to where Millie had set up her reading spot under the tree. “We will see each other often, but enough about me. What has been going on with you, and . . . where are the children?”
Striving for an air of nonchalance, Millie shrugged. “They’ll be back soon. They’re off exploring along the cliff walk with Everett—something they’ve taken to doing every day now for the past week and a half.”
“Why aren’t you with them?”
“Oh, ah, Everett believes I need some time to myself.”
“That’s very . . . considerate of him.”
Millie’s shoulders drooped, and to her absolute horror, she felt tears sting her eyes. Blinking rapidly, she tried to hold them at bay but realized she’d failed miserably when tears started dripping down her cheeks.
“Good heavens—what’s wrong?” Lucetta demanded.
Dashing the tears away with her hand, Millie blew out a shaky breath. “That’s just it. I have no idea.”
Lucetta practically shoved Millie down on the blanket before she took up a spot right beside her. “Tell me exactly what Everett’s done.”
Drawing in a shaky breath as she gathered her thoughts, Millie smoothed down the fabric of the pretty peach day dress Abigail had provided her. “He hasn’t really done anything, except maintain a careful distance from me over the past week and a half. He excludes me from the morning explorations he takes with the children, and he leaves Seaview immediately after returning the children back to me. He spends hours and hours away from the cottage in the company of his society friends, and . . . he’s taken to calling me Miss Longfellow again.”
“Why in the world would he do that?”
“I don’t know, but it all started right after he rescued me from being stuck in a tree, and right after the peacocks went on a rampage.”
“I think you need to start at the beginning.”
Fifteen minutes later, Millie finished with, “So Caroline and Everett took refuge from the peacocks in the icehouse, which turned out to be a bit of a mistake. The peacocks, you see, took up positions directly in front of the door and wouldn’t budge, not even when the footmen and I tried to shoo them away. Elizabeth finally had the ingenious idea of having Rose step in—since she does seem to have an unusual relationship with the birds—but . . . before Rose had the opportunity to lead the birds away, Caroline did the unthinkable.”
“She yelled at Rose again?”
“Not exactly, but what she did do was almost worse.” Millie felt her lips begin to curl. “She stuck her head out of the icehouse, and when she spotted her friends—all of them having abandoned their lemonade for the drama that was unfolding with the peacocks—she yelled to them that she’d made a small miscalculation regarding the birds. Caroline then proceeded to state that peacocks were not meant to be pets but were meant to be served as a tasty dish for dinner with a lovely cream sauce on the side.”
“Oh . . . my.”
“Indeed. That nasty business had Rose turning stubborn, and she flatly refused to lure the peacocks away. The minutes ticked by until, finally, Everett stuck his head out the door. He yelled to Rose—through teeth that were chattering from the cold, mind you—that Caroline had come to her senses and decided that peacocks wouldn’t be tasty after all, and that they were never going to show up on the menu.”
“And that had Rose cooperating?”
“It did, although I’m not exactly certain she believes Caroline won’t someday try and cook the birds in a cream sauce. But after the peacocks were out of sight, Everett and Caroline emerged from the icehouse and Caroline promptly demanded to be taken home. She’s now refusing to step so much as a toe in Seaview again until the peacocks are permanently removed.”
Millie shook her head. “It’s a bit of a problem for Everett, I think—especially since he doesn’t seem to be immune to the tears Rose summons whenever her precious peacocks come up in conversation. Those tears are why Everett is having Davis, a charming man if there ever was one, build a peacock enclosure on the other side of the stables.”
“Who is the world is this Davis gentleman?”
“He’s a footman, but he’s so much more than that. Why, I think his skill with a needle and thread rivals Harriet’s skill, and he’s been using those skills to whip up short pants for Thaddeus, now that our favorite little boy has finally agreed to abandon his frocks. However, poor Davis has not had a lot of time to do much sewing lately, since this peacock enclosure is turning out to be rather tricky, given that the peacocks keep finding ways to escape.”
Lucetta’s eyes began to gleam. “Do you spend much time with Davis?”
“A fair amount, but he’s very busy, especially since Everett keeps giving him new projects to complete every day, even though the peacock enclosure is far from being finished.”
The gleam was replaced with calculation. “Are these projects Everett gives Davis completely necessary?”
“Well . . . I suppose they must be or else why would Everett assign them?”
Lucetta ignored the question. “And you said that Everett had been behaving downright charming to you, but then . . . completely out of the blue, he began acting somewhat surly?”
“I think distant rather than surly might be a better way to describe him at the moment.”
“Interesting” was all Lucetta said as she turned her head and looked out toward the ocean.
“What’s interesting?”
Lucetta considered the ocean a moment longer before she finally looked back to Millie. “I might be completely off the mark, but have you ever considered the idea that Everett might be slightly . . . intrigued by you? And because you seem to get along so well with Davis, Everett’s been behaving distantly toward you because he’s . . . jealous?”
Amusement was immediate. “You’re delusional, especially since Everett is a gentleman who embraces his role within society. Because of that, he’d never look at a member of his staff as anything other than an employee, and he certainly would never allow himself to become intrigued by anyone on his staff.”
Lucetta crossed her arms over her chest. “Why else would he be maintaining a careful distance from you? He certainly can’t blame you for the whole peacock fiasco or for getting stuck up in that tree. Besides, gentlemen enjoy rescuing damsels in distress. It makes them feel manly.”
“I hate to come across as argumentative, Lucetta—especially since
you went to the great trouble of coming to Newport to visit me—but I don’t think Everett enjoyed rescuing me at all. In fact, I’ve actually been considering the idea that his being forced to fetch me out of that tree is exactly why he’s gone all peculiar of late. He obviously was completely disgusted by my lack of bravery and has now lost all respect for me.”
“And you have the nerve to call me delusional,” Lucetta said with a roll of her eyes. “I can assure you that Everett did not lose respect for you because you got stuck up in a tree.”
“When I lived in the orphanage, the children I grew up with never had any respect for the poor souls who showed any sign of fear.”
“That was a completely different situation, Millie. Adults don’t view life as children do.”
“I work with children all the time. They think remarkably like us, and besides, you didn’t see Everett when he finally reached me up in that tree. He certainly didn’t look like the hero coming to rescue the damsel in distress. Instead, he just stared at me with this look on his face—the one people get when they’re feeling a little queasy.”
“Perhaps he’s scared of heights as well and just didn’t want to admit it.”
“No, I think he was just really annoyed that he had to spend time rescuing me when he could have been spending that time socializing with his friends.”
“I think he’s attracted to you.”
Millie wrinkled her nose. “You’re apparently not listening to a word I’m saying, but allow me to be crystal clear. Everett, I’m very certain, is not attracted to me—nor, I’m going to add, am I attracted to him.”
Lucetta arched a brow.
Millie arched a brow right back at her. “I’m not, not really, although I freely admit he’s a very handsome gentleman, and it’s been quite sweet to see him with the children.” She blinked and pretended not to see the smug expression on Lucetta’s face. “I’m truly only upset because I thought we were becoming friends, but now . . . he wants nothing to do with me.”
Lucetta pushed herself up from the blanket and held out her hand to Millie. “I’ve just decided that I’d adore nothing more than taking a walk.”
“Now?” Millie asked, taking the hand Lucetta was still holding out to her and allowing her friend to pull her to her feet.
“It’s a glorious day,” Lucetta continued. “And as such, I’d like to mosey on down to the ocean and dip my toes into the water.”
“Or mosey on down to the ocean to see if Everett’s perhaps moseying around down there as well?” Millie countered.
Lucetta smiled. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a somewhat suspicious nature?”
“I have every reason to be suspicious right now. You’re up to something.”
Linking her arm with Millie’s, Lucetta’s only response was to change the subject as they began meandering across the lawn. “Did I mention that Reverend Gilmore traveled to Newport with me?”
Millie opened her mouth, intending on sticking with the conversation about Lucetta’s behavior, but then tilted her head. “Reverend Gilmore’s here?”
“He is indeed, his presence in Newport a direct result of his receiving a letter from Abigail a week or so ago, asking for some assistance with the children. He’d already made arrangements for another minister to take over his sermons, so when he discovered I was traveling to Newport on the first steamship out this morning, he decided to join me.”
They reached the beginning of the cliff walk, and Millie let go of Lucetta’s arm. “I’ll go first, shall I?”
With Lucetta close on her heels, Millie made the descent, slipping every so often on the loose stones scattered about the well-worn path. With a sigh of relief, she reached the sandy beach, turning to check on Lucetta’s progress.
Lucetta, however, was no longer right behind Millie. She had stopped a few yards up the path, her hand shielding her eyes from the sun. “There’s Everett, right over there on the beach, but he’s not moseying, as you suggested, Millie. He’s just sitting there, holding Rose from what I can make out from this distance.”
Directing her attention back to the beach, Millie immediately caught sight of Everett, who really was sitting on the beach with Rose in his lap. When Rose lifted her head and caught sight of Millie, Millie knew she had no choice but to travel Everett’s way. The irritation she felt over that disappeared in an instant, though, when Rose started running toward her. As Rose drew closer, Millie noted the telltale signs of tears on the little girl’s face.
Bending down, Millie held open her arms, which Rose immediately jumped into.
Straightening, Millie snuggled Rose close to her. “What happened?”
“She got pinched by a crab,” Thaddeus said, appearing out of nowhere and looking rather guilty.
Hugging Rose tightly to her for another second, Millie set Rose on her feet, and then knelt in front of the little girl, taking the hand Rose immediately held up. A fine linen handkerchief was wrapped around Rose’s index finger—one that obviously had come directly out of Everett’s pocket, since it held the faintest scent of sandalwood. “May I take a look at your finger?”
“It’s not bleeding,” Thaddeus said quickly, earning a glare from his sister.
“It wouldn’t even be hurting if you hadn’t handed that crab to me,” Rose returned.
Fighting a smile, Millie unwrapped the handkerchief. To her relief, Rose’s finger was not bleeding, although it sported two red marks where the crab had apparently grabbed hold of it.
“Do you think it’s broken?”
Looking up, Millie found Everett standing beside her, his face rather pale and his eyes filled with worry. Returning her attention to the finger, she moved it gently up and down before shaking her head. “No, it’s not broken.”
Everett blew out a breath. “Thank goodness. I didn’t know what to do, and she was screaming something awful, and the crab wouldn’t let go, and then Thaddeus started crying because he’d been the one to give Rose the crab, and . . . I think I’ve just aged ten years.”
“Where’s Elizabeth?” Millie asked. “She would have known what to do.”
“She’s farther down the beach with my mother.”
Millie smiled. “It’s lovely to see your mother and Elizabeth getting along so well. I think they really enjoy each other’s company.” Her smile widened. “Dorothy’s turned out to be rather nice, even though I thought she was a complete nightmare that first day I met her.”
“Since she tried to dismiss you, I’m not exactly surprised by your admission.”
Millie’s smile turned into a grin. “I do think that’s the one and only time that someone’s threatened me with dismissal and yet here I am . . . still employed.”
When Everett grinned back at her, Millie’s breath got stuck in her throat, but then, after only a few seconds had passed, his grin faded and he began taking a pointed interest in sky.
Her breath returned in a flash, and with annoyance now humming through her veins, Millie brought Rose’s finger up to her lips, placing a kiss on the marks the crab had left behind. “Better?” she asked as she wiped the lingering tears on Rose’s cheeks with the sleeve of her dress.
Rose’s little lips curved into a smile. “Kisses always make everything all better. That’s what my momma used to do when I got hurt.”
Leaning forward, even as her heart took to aching, Millie kissed Rose’s forehead, but Rose wasn’t content to stand still long. Twisting away from Millie, she pointed down the beach. “There’s Elizabeth and Mrs. Mulberry. Can I go show them my finger?”
“You may.”
Turning to Thaddeus, Rose glared at her brother for a second before she let out a little huff. “You can come, but only if you promise not to be mean.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Thaddeus said before he took hold of his sister’s hand, and together, they hurried off over the sand.
“Is it my imagination, or are those two squabbling a lot more lately?” Everett asked as he stopped perusing the s
ky.
Relieved that she didn’t lose her breath again when Everett looked her way, Millie shrugged. “They’re acting exactly how five-year-olds are supposed to act. So, yes, they are squabbling more, but it’s a good sign. It means they’re beginning to feel secure again.”
“And it also means that our wonderful Millie is having a great impact on the children, even though she hasn’t had responsibility for them for an entire month yet,” Lucetta said as she strolled into view, making her way over to Everett before she held out her hand.
Everett didn’t hesitate to bring Lucetta’s fingers to his lips, but unlike most gentlemen, he didn’t linger, earning a nod of approval from Lucetta. “This is a pleasant surprise, Lucetta, finding you in Newport.”
“Thank you, Everett, and I’m sure you’ll be absolutely delighted to learn I’ll be skulking around Seaview for the next few weeks—although you needn’t look so worried. I won’t be staying under your roof, but at Abigail’s. I thought I’d help Millie out with the children a bit, at no cost to you, of course, but . . . speaking of Millie—have you been given the pleasure of kissing her hand yet today?”
For just a second, something interesting flashed through Everett’s eyes, but it was gone in the next, replaced with something . . . cold. “I don’t normally make a habit of kissing the nanny’s hand, Lucetta.”
“And I don’t normally make a habit of telling people they’re complete idiots, but . . . there you have it . . . you’re an idiot, Everett,” Lucetta said as calm as you please, not even batting an eye as she delivered her insult.
A vein began throbbing on Everett’s forehead, but instead of responding to Lucetta, he turned on his heel, stalked over to Millie, and grabbed hold of her hand. Bringing it to his lips, he pressed a kiss on it that lasted barely a second, before he dropped her hand as if it had burned him and turned back to Lucetta again. “Does that make you feel better?”
“Hardly, since no woman likes to be kissed by a man who scowls at them, but . . . it’s a start.” Lucetta smiled sweetly at Everett, the sweetness of the smile having Millie suppressing the urge to cringe. “I hear you and Caroline suffered quite the adventure with a flock of peacocks the other week.”