James Gavin, Earl Blackthorne, was second only to Trowbridge in the Order. Maimed in the same battle that had killed Merrick’s father, the older man had continued with the Order in an administrative capacity until recently, when he’d retired to his estate in Kent. Blackthorne’s only son lacked the innate power of a Knight, and though he worked here in the offices, Merrick knew the duke had no intention of promoting Francis Gavin to fill his father’s shoes.
“I’ll have to think about that, sir.” Merrick hadn’t planned to take on a more command-oriented role. Perhaps, though, it was something he should consider—at least for the future, now that he had wards depending upon him.
He stood, bid his superior farewell, and accepted his hat and greatcoat from the butler, who had been here for as long as Merrick could remember. With far too much on his mind, he climbed into his coach and made his way through the rainy streets, homeward.
Chapter Seven
Another day of icy rain postponed their trip to the zoo, much to everyone’s disappointment. Even Caroline chafed at another day spent indoors. Dorothy had taken Wink and Nell to be properly outfitted for their lessons in fencing. Jamie and Piers were playing a game up in the nursery. So Caroline left Sally to mind them while she slipped down to the library for something to read. She’d just picked one of Sir Walter Scott’s novels and stepped out into the corridor when the loud clatter of the brass knocker vibrated the front door. Caroline watched, book in hand, as Mountjoy opened the door to a dapper young man in a gray pinstriped suit, with neatly groomed dark auburn hair and pale blue eyes.
“No one is at home, Mr. MacKay. May I take your card?”
The visitor ignored the butler and stepped inside. Those eyes twinkled at Caroline, his smile warm and friendly. The slight crinkles around them showed he was a little older than she’d thought at first—perhaps a year or two older than her.
“Who is this? Surely Merrick isn’t hiding away some lovely young relative and depriving the rest of us of her company?”
Caroline curtseyed. “I’m afraid Sir Merrick and Miss Hadrian are both away. Perhaps I can convey a message?” Bearing in mind last night’s discussion of keeping things in confidence, Caroline wasn’t about to offer up any additional information to this stranger, no matter how pleasant he seemed.
“Oh, I’ll wait.” He handed his top hat and walking stick to an affronted Mountjoy, winking at Caroline as he did. He strolled forward and held out his hand, bowing over Caroline’s. “I’m sure this lovely young lady will bear me company. Gideon MacKay, an old, old friend of the family. We’ll take tea in the drawing room, Monty old chap.”
Monty? Caroline wondered for a moment if the stuffy butler was going to behead Mr. MacKay with his own dragon-topped walking stick.
“I’m sorry, Mr. MacKay, but I’m not a guest. I’m employed here, and I really should get back to my duties.” She pulled her hand away and stepped slowly backward, toward the stairs.
“Ah, you must be the governess. Mother told me Merrick had inherited some orphans from some distant relation or family retainer. She’s quite anxious to meet them.”
So that’s the story her employer had put out among his acquaintances. It would serve well enough.
He took a few steps down the hall and held out his hand again. “Please? I hate to wait alone. Won’t you come along and tell me all about yourself, Miss…”
“Bristol,” she replied with automatic courtesy. It was tempting, though, to spend some time chatting with such a pleasant young man who showed no signs of leaping at her. “But I really should return to the nursery, Mr. MacKay. I’m sure Miss Hadrian or Sir Merrick will be along shortly.”
“Nonsense. They could be hours. Meanwhile, I’ll have the advantage of a lovely young lady to chat with. I promise to be on my best behavior. My mother is a good friend of Dorothy’s and together they’d have my head if I misbehaved.” His flattery sounded so sincere that she was charmed, despite knowing better. “So where do you come from, Miss Bristol? Up near Hadrian Hall?”
“No, I’m from Somerset.” Her county of origin was all she’d ever admit. Any more than that, and people would begin to ask questions. “A ridiculously small village—you’ll not have heard of it.”
Like most people, Mr. MacKay didn’t delve any deeper into her history. Once in the drawing room, he handed her into a chair near the fire and seated himself directly across from her, telling her all about the play he’d seen at Drury Lane the previous evening.
The tea cart arrived, pushed by Mountjoy himself, who hovered in the room while Caroline poured, all her early training in ladylike behavior coming back as she entertained Sir Merrick’s friend. Though her eye kept wandering to the grandfather clock in the corner as she wondered what the boys were doing, she chatted with Mr. MacKay about the weather, literature and other innocuous topics. He was charming and handsome, but Caroline didn’t feel anything like the jitters that danced in her stomach when she looked at Sir Merrick. It was a shame really—as a younger son and a newly minted solicitor, Mr. MacKay was much more accessible to a mere governess.
After little more than a half hour, Miss Dorothy returned with the two girls. After sending Nell and Wink up to the nursery with their bundles, Dorothy joined Caroline and Mr. MacKay in the drawing room.
“Gideon, welcome.” When he stood to greet her, she pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Dear, it’s been ages. Your mother didn’t mention you were coming to Town.”
“Well, I’ve taken employment in the legal branch of…the family business,” he said.
Caroline noticed the brief hesitation and wondered if his family business had anything to do with that of the Hadrians. Really, there was far more afoot with this Order than she’d realized at first.
“How wonderful. You’re staying at Glendale House, of course?” Dorothy accepted a cup of tea as she sank onto a settee near her guest.
“Actually no.” He beamed affectionately at Dorothy. “Since the post is intended to be permanent, I’ve decided to take the plunge and find a place of my own. After all, the family pile will belong to Fergus and his brood, so I’ve purchased a small house. The neighborhood isn’t quite so refined as this, but still perfectly respectable. I’m having the parents to dinner tomorrow night, in fact, if you’d care to join us.”
“Of course. Leave us the address and the time. I’ll make sure Merrick is available.” Dorothy sipped her tea and sighed. “Ah, I needed this after a shopping expedition with two young girls. Gideon, you’ll stay for supper tonight, won’t you? Merrick won’t want to miss your visit, and I don’t expect him home much before mealtime.”
“I’d love to,” he replied. His light blue eyes sparkled over at Caroline. “Will the lovely Miss Bristol be joining us?”
“I don’t think—”
“Certainly.” Dorothy’s firm tones overrode Caroline’s denial. “Along with Edwin Berry, unfortunately. And you’ll get to meet Merrick’s two oldest wards, who join us for the evening meal. While the children are a handful, they’re really a delight, right, Caroline?”
“That they are, Miss Dorothy.” Caroline set down her empty teacup and stood. “And I had better go see to them before mayhem erupts yet again. Mr. MacKay, it was truly a pleasure to meet you.”
“I’ll look forward to seeing you again shortly,” he said, rising as Caroline left. That little mark of courtesy warmed her heart toward him.
As she walked out the door of the room, she could have sworn she heard Dorothy give a wicked chuckle. Oh, heavens, what was the woman up to now? Caroline was very afraid it was matchmaking.
Getting herself ready for supper with a guest was accomplished easily enough, though Caroline took some extra pains with her hair and even put on her mother’s seed pearl earbobs. Such an invitation had almost never come during her career as a governess, but there had been one or two occasions, which was why she had two suitable dinner frocks. She was glad she’d worn the slate blue last night. Her best gown was a dark forest green, as
plain as all her others, with no flounces to the skirt, long sleeves and a high neckline, but at least the color was flattering. Thinking of Mr. MacKay’s smiling charm, she even pinched her cheeks for a bit of color.
Getting Wink ready and downstairs on time proved a much more difficult task. While the girl had been delighted to wear a longer dress and put her hair up in a simple coiled plait, the younger children kept trying to interfere. They weren’t sure about this whole process, but they stood firm in their conviction that it was unfair for Wink and Tommy to see the guest while the rest of them remained confined to the nursery.
Sally’s sister Becky had joined the nursery staff the day before, making life much easier on everyone. Between them, the two maids were able to more or less corral the younger three and get them fed while Caroline assisted Wink.
“There you go.” Caroline gave one last pat to Wink’s auburn chignon and straightened the dark gold sash on her butter-yellow dress. “Wink, I know your parents moved among the gentry. Please do your best to remember those manners for Sir Merrick’s guest.” It was odd having to look up at one of her charges, but Wink was several inches taller than Caroline.
“I will, miss.” The girl gave Caroline a quick smile. “Truth be told, it’s getting easier by the day. Sometimes I wake up in my nice, soft bed, and just for a moment I think Wapping was nothing but a bad dream.”
“I wish it had been, dearest. But at least now it’s the past—and you know you’ll never be back there again.”
“Begging your pardon, Miss Caro, but how can we know that?” A world of suffering showed briefly in Wink’s wide brown eyes. “Something could happen to Sir Merrick and Miss Dorothy tomorrow, then where would we be? Right back where we started, that’s where.”
“I promise you, that won’t be the case,” Caroline said recklessly. “My own story isn’t so different, you know. My grandfather just assumed his heirs would continue to provide for my mother and me—but they didn’t, so out we went. Sir Merrick is smarter than that, and so is Miss Dorothy. They’ll make good and sure you’re taken care of if something should happen to them, and I’ll be certain to remind them of it.”
“Thank you, Miss Caro.” Wink gave her a brief hug, then reached out to smooth a lock of Caroline’s hair back over the pointy tip of her ear. “I think you were sent to be our faery godmother. That’s what those ears mean.”
“Maybe.” Caroline had never been teased about her ears before, but it felt good, like she’d finally bonded with Wink. “Just not so much for George and your other creations.”
They both chuckled as arm in arm they descended the staircase to join the others in the drawing room.
“Miss Bristol!” Mr. MacKay was the first to stand as Caroline and Wink entered, though Sir Merrick was already on his feet, leaning against the hearth. Tommy and Mr. Berry lumbered slowly out of their chairs. “And another beauty. Merrick, are you growing them on trees in the garden now?”
Sir Merrick didn’t quite growl. “Behave, Gideon. Remember they’re both under my protection.”
“Oh, never mind that surly old bear.” Dorothy shook her head at her nephew. “Gideon, this is Merrick’s ward, Miss Winifred Carter. Winifred, this is Mr. Gideon MacKay, an old friend of the family.”
To Caroline’s pride, Wink executed a perfect curtsey, her normally curious gaze demurely downcast. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise, Miss Carter.” With exaggerated gallantry he took her hand and kissed the air a fraction of an inch above it. “Miss Bristol.” When he took Caroline’s, however, he not only pressed his lips to her skin, he held them there for a moment longer than was absolutely polite.
It was fun to have someone flirting with her openly, as if she were a lady, rather than just trying for a quick grope behind the stairs like she was used to from her employers and their older sons. Still, even when his lips moved on her bare flesh, there was no trace of the tingle she’d felt when Sir Merrick had taken her hand while they both wore gloves. Pity, that.
To even up numbers, Dorothy had invited her friend Miss Margaret Julian, whom Caroline had met several times at the library. Miss Julian was a short, plump woman of perhaps fifty, with lively blue eyes and just a few streaks of gray in her light brown hair. Her clothing was in the first stare of fashion, cleverly designed to elevate her ordinary features to a sedate beauty. Though her father was a wealthy shipping magnate, Caroline knew Miss Julian kept herself busy managing various charitable organizations, an occupation she shared with her dear friend Dorothy.
Caroline knew Dorothy was matchmaking when in a blatant disregard for protocol, Caroline was partnered with Mr. MacKay. Miss Julian was matched with Mr. Berry, much to that gentleman’s distaste. While Dorothy and Miss Julian certainly didn’t flaunt their unusual—and unfortunately illegal—affection for one another, Mr. Berry either knew or suspected, and his disapproval was evident in his curt, almost rude remarks and pinched expression.
Mr. MacKay, on the other hand, seemed to either not notice, or not care. He flirted easily with all the ladies regardless of age. Still, he seemed to spend just a little extra time talking to Caroline, making her feel as if she genuinely belonged in this gathering.
She was still smiling when she herded Wink up the stairs, Mr. Berry and Tommy right behind them.
After a sound night of sleep, mercifully undisturbed by one of Jamie’s nightmares, she was still in a good mood when she woke. Never mind that today the Cinderella moment was over and it was back to work for the lowly governess. She’d had a lovely evening and intended to enjoy the memory.
Even the weather seemed inclined to cooperate. Though no golden rays of sunshine streaked in through the windows, the clouds were light and fluffy instead of ominous and dark. Finally, she could take the children out for a walk.
As if they knew it, Jamie and Piers were particularly restless through their lessons, and even Nell seemed distracted, while Wink stared into space with a thoughtful expression on her face.
Oh dear. Had the girl developed a tendre for the handsome young solicitor? Caroline supposed there was no great harm in it, so she didn’t press. Instead she doggedly worked at keeping all four young minds focused on grammar and mathematics. Luncheon and its subsequent outing couldn’t come soon enough.
It was barely time for morning tea, however, when Johnson appeared in the nursery, telling Caroline that Miss Dorothy requested her presence. Caroline removed her apron and hurried downstairs with no idea what she’d find. The last thing she’d expected was to see Dorothy sitting amid a variety of fresh bouquets, tapping an engraved envelope in her hand.
“You must have made quite an impression on young Gideon,” said the older woman. “He sent you the biggest posy of all—though mine is none too shabby and the nosegay for Wink was a thoughtful touch.”
Caroline reached out and touched a large bouquet of mixed white and pink roses, framed by an elegant spray of orchids and a small bunch of yellow roses accented with daisies. “This is for me?”
“As is this.” With a quirk of her upper lip, Dorothy handed over the envelope she’d been toying with.
“What…?” Caroline tore open the letter to reveal an elegant, hand-written invitation to a “small family dinner” tonight at the home of one Gideon MacKay. The invitation was signed by Evelyn, Lady MacKay.
“Gideon’s mother,” Dorothy confirmed. “Apparently she’s acting as his hostess this evening. Well, dear, are you willing to go with Merrick and myself? I do hope you’ll consider it.”
“But—I’m not a guest here, Miss Dorothy. Just the governess—a servant to put it plainly. Surely this is unacceptable—unless he’s invited Mr. Berry and the children as well?”
“No. Only you. I assure you, though, there’s nothing openly scandalous about it. A governess may certainly move in social circles with her employers, especially as this is just a small event among close family friends. In another year or so, I’d expect Wink and Tom to be included as well, but having you a
lready established will help ease their way.”
Should she go? She didn’t want to appear to take Mr. MacKay’s flirtation too seriously, but really, it would be such a treat to be welcomed as a guest somewhere for a change.
“And we really must do something about your wardrobe. I have decided that I’m tired of your hideous frocks. As a bonus for dealing with Edwin’s disdain, I’m taking you shopping for some suitable garments.” Dorothy narrowed her eyes. “And don’t even think of denying me. You know perfectly well you’ve chosen things to make yourself as unappealing as possible. I hope you realize by now that your subterfuge isn’t necessary here.”
“It isn’t subterfuge—not really. I just choose not to draw attention to myself.”
Dorothy snorted. “That’s why you wear spectacles, when you can see perfectly well without them? Please.”
A reluctant smile twitched at Caroline lips. “Very well, perhaps a tiny bit of protective coloring. The spectacles, I’m told, make me look older—also more serious and intellectual. Positive qualities in a teacher, I believe.”
“And utterly unnecessary in this household. Now run up, get your bonnet and tell Sally to take the children on their walk. We’re off to the dressmaker.”
Truly this must be the oddest employment in the history of governessing. Carrying her bouquet up to her bedroom, and Wink’s as well, Caroline went to fetch her hat.
An hour later she sat, shell-shocked as Dorothy haggled with the dressmaker over the color and design of a riding habit.
“But I don’t ride,” Caroline pointed out. She was so tired of being poked, prodded and pinned that she wanted to scream. “And I’m hardly likely to ever need an opera cloak either, I might point out.” She’d understood her benefactor—she really couldn’t think of Dorothy as her employer anymore—wanting to buy her one pretty gown for dinner. Perhaps something nice from a second-hand store, or the better end of ready-made. But no. Dorothy had dragged Caroline to her own modiste, who fortunately had several costumes made up for a customer who’d apparently ordered a whole new wardrobe then inconveniently turned up pregnant. Thus, Caroline now found herself the owner of walking dresses, day dresses, evening gowns and underpinnings so lacy and sheer she could barely see the point of wearing them. The one thing that hadn’t been included was a riding habit, and Dorothy insisted she needed that too.
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