“You think you deserve a nap yourself, do you?” Tilde raised one eyebrow at her dog.
Peaches tilted her head to the right.
“Yes, well. I could not be happier with your behavior this week.” Tilde rubbed Peaches’ back and dropped a kiss on the top of her tiny head.
Even Mr. Yardley, the butler who’d been so skeptical upon her initial arrival, was warming to the idea of having a dog in the house. Many servants, however had not.
Furthermore, Tilde doubted Lady Willoughby or Mrs. Crabtree, who’d gone back to acting as the countess’ assistant, would ever hold any affection for Peaches. Staring at her dog, she frowned. Not everyone had the good sense to appreciate the presence of a well–behaved canine companion.
And some human beings were simply cold-hearted at best.
Since showing Jasper those drawings, Tilde was relieved that Mrs. Crabtree had been blessedly absent from the nursery. And if Tilde was not mistaken, Eloise seemed slightly less guarded. Althea spoke often to Peaches, but still hadn’t addressed Tilde directly.
Peaches perked up, ears alert, and then a knock sounded on the door. It would not be Lord Willoughby; she rebuked her racing heart. He’d departed for the Palace of Westminster early this morning and would likely not return until after sundown. And, but of course, he would not come to her bed chamber. That would be the height of impropriety. He would send a servant if he needed to speak with her.
Opening the door, Tilde did her best to hide her dismay.
Lady Willoughby stood tapping her foot on the carpeted floor in the corridor, albeit, a friendly smile stretching her lips. “May I come in?”
Tilde gestured for the woman to enter. She was as suspicious of this unlikely visit as Peaches appeared to be. “What can I do for you, my lady.” Tilde hoped this visit did not portend another performance by the twins.
She would most definitely speak with Jasper about them this evening. Even if it required that she wait up until midnight.
The woman strolled around the room inquisitively, examining one of the ornately carved bedposts, and then glancing in the mirror above the elegant vanity. “My son has excellent taste. Would you not agree?”
Tilde merely nodded, both oddly pleased and uncomfortable to know that Jasper –– her employer –– had chosen the lavish furnishings himself –– for her bedchamber, no less.
“I must admit,” Lady Willoughby began, “I had misgivings when you first arrived.”
Tilde’s back stiffened instinctively. “I cannot imagine why. My references are impeccable.”
Lady Willoughby chuckled and slid a knowing glance in Tilde’s direction. “I am not unaware of your past acquaintance with my son.”
Good Heavens!
“My son keeps nothing from me, and the decision to hire you was one we discussed at great length. In the end, Lady Althea’s well-being was what mattered most.”
The woman’s words failed to ring true. But how else would Lady Willoughby have known what occurred all those years ago? “In that case, my lady,” Tilde would make the most of this sudden altruism for Lady Althea. “Parading the girls before your guests at a moment’s notice has had a most detrimental effect on both of them. Not only does it interrupt their schedule, taking them away from their lessons, but the stress from these… visits… robs them of their ability to pay attention afterward.”
Lady Willoughby pursed her lips, and appeared as though she was going to argue, but then pivoted and strode across the room to stare out the window.
Tilde met Peaches’ curious gaze. Her pup tilted her head questioningly and Tilde shrugged with a frown.
“Be that as it may,” the older woman turned back to face Tilde. A cold emptiness lurked in the back of her eyes. “Your ability to provide adequate supervision for the twins has provided a sense of relief for Lord Willoughby. With such concerns resolved, you and the children will likely be travelling to Warwick Place within the next fortnight. It’s important that my son be able to direct all of his attentions on Lady Elaine before they make their announcement.”
Tilde caught her breath. Of course, Lady Althea and Eloise spoke fondly of their father’s country estate and the servants there, but they had a close relationship with their papa. It was significantly plausible to believe the girls might suffer upon him absenting himself from their precarious little lives. He’d told her himself that he thought their greatest fear was separation from him.
Tilde wondered that he’d not be more concerned for their well-being.
Most children of aristocratic families spent inordinate amounts of time separated from their parents, but Tilde had believed Lord Willoughby to view his relationship with his daughters differently.
And that was the only reason Tilde felt an unreasonable urge to cry. Not because the thought of him marrying the duke’s beautiful daughter crushed her heart.
Because it didn’t.
It. Did. Not.
Tilde nodded. She’d travelled often enough with her other charges and never given it a second thought. Why, then, did the notion of taking these girls far away from their father leave her feeling unsettled?
It had nothing to do with the fact that Tilde, too, would be leaving him.
Nothing. At. All.
She nodded. “I’m sure Lord Willoughby will wish to do whatever is best for his daughters.”
“Which first and foremost is to ensure his succession.” Lady Willoughby’s voice could have cut through ice. “You’ll be informed as soon as the arrangements have been finalized.”
And then, as quickly as she’d arrived, the disconcerting woman departed.
Tilde paced across to the bed, lifted Peaches into her arms and cradled her beneath her chin.
Lord Willoughby—Jasper—had hired Tilde, and yet he’d been noticeably absent these past few days. Was he feeling the pressure of his position in the House of Lords? Or was he merely keeping himself away from her so that neither of them was tempted by their previous inclinations?
Inclinations which had been quite successful at keeping Tilde awake at night.
On more than one occasion, she’d caught him watching her from those dark and smoky eyes of his. And she’d done her best not to gaze back hungrily. The children were their priority.
She might have had an easier time of it, if she’d not come to see that his character was proving to be more handsome than even his exterior.
They could not go on like this, surely? Perhaps that was why he’d chosen to send her and the children away.
Or perhaps she was wrong about all of it. Perhaps she’d only imagined that his looks held passion and longing.
Conceivably, he regretted the liberties they’d taken with one another at the Duchess of Marvelle’s ball. She’d been in his employ for over a fortnight now and he’d managed quite well to avoid her. Perhaps his mother was not a villain at all… She was merely the messenger. If so, then his meaning was loud and clear. Tilde meant nothing more to him than any other person in his employ.
Shuffling sounds drifted over from the girls’ room next door, forcing Tilde to put the matter from her mind.
She’d promised them a walk in the park with Peaches. It was exactly what Tilde needed as well. The tension in this house could be too much to stand at times. She set Peaches on the floor and together they went through the adjoining door to assist the girls in preparing to go out.
Only a few clouds hovered in the sky, but even if rain fell down in droves, Tilde would have insisted on this outing.
The urge for fresh air seemed more pressing than ever.
Jasper tipped his hat to one of his mother’s friends as she passed him on the sidewalk. He’d sent John Coachman ahead, preferring to walk this afternoon. Session had adjourned early and for the first time in days he found some time to himself.
On impulse, he crossed the road and entered the Park. It was early and so all of society had yet to have descended upon the popular venue in which one went to see and be seen.
&nb
sp; He ought to have ridden home in the coach so that he could spend the afternoon tackling the reports he’d received from the estate manager at Warwick Place. Also awaiting him was the new bill Lord Fitzhume had asked him to support.
And yet.
He kicked a stone that appeared in the path at his feet.
Having Miss Fortune for the girls’ governess was turning into a special form of torture for him. Without fail, she sat at her desk working vigilantly when he visited the nursery, seemingly intent upon sabotaging all of his efforts to ignore her.
Brushing her hair from her cheek.
Sighing breathily.
Licking her lips.
Touching the edge of her bodice, drawing his attention to…
Throughout all of it, Jasper had done his best to not allow his gaze to linger on her for too long.
Fighting whatever this was between them was proving to be exhausting. She haunted his dreams incessantly, and it was even worse when he lay in bed awake. Knowing she slept under the same roof, imagining her in nothing but a night rail, and then less. The temptation to go to her left him clutching himself beneath the sheets like a randy youth.
He’d caught up with the stone he kicked, retrieved it with his hand, and sent it flying up into the treetops.
If he returned to his house that very moment, he’d do something inappropriate. God help him.
At the same time, Eloise was smiling more, and Althea was more animated than he could ever remember seeing her. He could not jeopardize losing her services.
He’d been walking through a copse of trees and thought himself quite all alone. But then he heard the laughter of children’s voices. And a sharp excited barking sound, and then, “Peaches. Come back here this instant!”
Miss Fortune.
Everything rational in his brain urged him to turn around and make for home. He could spend his afternoon being productive without the distraction of knowing her to be under the same roof.
And yet his legs strode purposely in the direction of the blanket spread out upon the grass.
“Papa!” Eloise caught sight of him and was holding a cluster of flowers in the air. “Look, we’ve made crowns out of dandelions! Have you come to join us for tea? Look Miss Fortune, Papa’s come to join us.”
Jasper’s breath caught in his throat when his daughters’ governess turned to look at him. How had he ever thought that she was not beautiful? He’d been wrong. Utterly so.
With a wreath of flowers propped upon her head, her eyes danced with laughter and her smile came easily. He caught her gaze with his own, and held it, lost in the depths of greens and browns.
Until something flickered behind there, and she glanced downward. When she lifted her chin again, she scowled in disapproval. “Good afternoon, Lord Willoughby. If you’ve come to fetch the girls for another of your mother’s at homes, then I must object. Your daughters are twins, yes, but little girls were not created so that they could be paraded in front of a bunch of windbags and gossips for an afternoon’s entertainment.”
Althea had come running up to him, along with the dog on a leading string. She wound her frail looking arms around his leg and made a seat of his foot.
“Hello, sweetheart.” He patted the top of her head. Confused at Miss Fortune’s accusations, he limped cautiously toward the scowling lady.
“Good afternoon to you as well, Miss Fortune.” And then he bowed. To his governess. “And what are you going on about? My mother is doing what?”
“Your mother––” She began. But with a meaningful glance at the girls, clamped her lips shut. “This is difficult.”
Jasper could not disagree with her. “I realize––”
“But that’s the problem, Jasper.” She took a deep breath. “Lady Brightly, my former employer. She had an older sister who visited often. The sister was rather… religious minded, and on several occasions attempted to have a say in how I did my job. And I am always open to constructive criticism. Don’t get me wrong. But this woman. She came to me stating that I was too lenient. That my lesson plans ought to be centered upon scripture, and prayer and less on math and history. I was filling the girl’s heads, she insisted, with thoughts they’d never need, confusing them with heathen philosophies and blasphemous science. The first time this happened, I had only been with the family for a little over a year and, truth be told… I doubted myself.”
That surprised him. But then he remembered the naïve girl he’d met years ago and could imagine her younger self feeling hesitant about her convictions. “But you spoke with Lady Brightly. Did you not? After all, they were her children.”
Tilde met his eyes. “I did Jasper. And in truth, I had been a little zealous with my teachings. But we worked together to incorporate aspects of their faith into some of the lessons. And I realized all the teachings could be richer for it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Lady Brightly was there. She was the lady of the house as well as my employer. It was not my responsibility to deal with her overly righteous sister on my own. And Jasper, most important of all: she saw her sister for who she was.”
“You can come to me any time––“ But Tilde was shaking her head.
“You do not see your mother. You must open your eyes, and your ears, and understand with your heart, who your mother is.” And then she dropped her gaze to the ground. “And what she is doing to your most precious treasures.”
In that moment, a glimmer of understanding taunted his conscience but at the same time pierced his very identity. “She is manipulative, Tilde, I realize this, but that’s only because…” But Tilde was shaking her head.
“Step back for a moment, but watch her closely, Jasper.”
Her words rang true, for the most part.
And then he nodded. “I will speak with her.”
Jasper stared across the blanket to wear his daughters were carefully tying dandelions into a chain. His mother was all too aware of Althea’s shyness around other people, or she should be, anyhow. But only last week he’d had to squash her inclination to punish his daughter for it. He closed his eyes, hoping Matilda was wrong. The very notion that his mother would require the girls to leave their school room in order for her guests to gape and stare… “I will speak with her,” he spoke again, this time through gritted teeth. “You have my word.”
He lowered himself to the grass and Althea promptly crawled across the blanket and settled onto his lap, Peaches followed and cuddled into his daughter’s much smaller one.
Jasper’s promise seemed to subdue Miss Fortune’s irritation and yet… something still seemed to be bothering her.
“Thea,” Eloise hopped up and down. “The ducks are swimming close. Miss Fortune, may we feed them the bread crumbs now?”
All attention again focused on her charges, Miss Fortune opened the basket and handed Althea a familiar looking bag. “But I’ll have to hold the leading string for now, darling,” she explained. “Or Peaches will chase all the ducks away.”
Jasper’s gaze followed his two daughters as they skipped to the water’s edge and began gently tossing treats to the fowl. “They can be a handful, I’ll admit, but…” He shook his head. How could he explain the love he felt for those two little urchins?
“They’re rather like having a handful of wonder, or rainbows, or laughter.” She chuckled. And he knew exactly what she meant.
He turned and met her eyes. “So, you have no additional scolds for me?” A smile tugged at his lips. Why did the idea of her scolding him raise his temperature ever so slightly?
She leaned back. The dog settled onto the blanket. Jasper realized her hand was only a scant few inches away from his.
“Is it true you plan on sending the girls back to Warwick Place soon?” A trace of disappointment lingered in her question.
As matter of fact, he had considered sending them back with their new governess…
Initially.
The idea had seemed so rational at the time. And wh
en he’d mentioned it to his mother she’d readily agreed.
“I had considered it.” He admitted. “I had doubts as to how they’d fare in the city. I knew Parliament would demand a good deal of my time and…” He’d planned on finding a lady to marry. But now that he’d arrived, and met Lady Elaine and a few of the other, oh, so very young debutantes, he had no desire to send his daughters away from him.
He had no desire to send Miss Fortune away.
Despite numerous sleepless nights and frustrating days.
The air between them hung thick and heavy. He vibrated inside. Staring down at their hands, he edged his one inch closer to hers.
“I,” she began and then cleared her throat. “I believe they would miss you a great deal.” Had her hand moved a fraction of an inch closer to his?
Eloise squealed, distracting him a moment. Several of the ducks fled back into the water and Althea threw a handful of bread at them. Eloise took Althea’s hand and the girls jumped up and down. “Come back, ducks! Come back!”
Miss Fortune’s laughter echoed his own in a moment of pure contentment. He moved his hand closer, so that his pinky finger barely skimmed hers.
She did not attempt to draw it away.
“I would miss them.” He admitted gruffly. And then he added, “I would miss you.”
A connective energy seemed to spark where their fingers met, almost as though a current flowed between them. All his senses homed in on the warmth of her skin, her slightest motion, the way her breath hitched when he traced his finger along the length of hers.
And yet they barely touched.
The tumult of satisfaction coursing through him was somewhat terrifying. Because along with satisfaction flowed need. And he knew, by God, that touching her hand would never be enough.
He glanced sideways in time to see her swallow hard and then bite her lip. Indeed, they’d promised not to act upon any inclinations.
She blinked a few times and then –– “Mrs. Crabtree has stayed away. I haven’t found any new drawings.”
Swallowing hard, he then cleared his throat. She was right, of course.
Miss Fortune's First Kiss (Fortunes of Fate Book 9) Page 9