Page 27 of The Rogue's Runaway Bride
“Such a pity, that.” Mrs. Gilroy sounded less than sincere.
“Jameson will notify me if a suitable room does become available. With any luck, the delay will be short-lived.”
The housekeeper let out a quiet yelp as she rose to her feet, then plopped back upon the seat. “I’ve truly done it now, haven’t I?”
“Mrs. Gilroy, you need to rest.”
“But how? I’ve no idea how I’m to maintain the household.”
“I will arrange for a maid until you’re healed.”
“Ah, that’s a kind thought.” Slanting Carrie a glance, Mrs. Gilroy sighed. “And what of the wee lass? I cannot keep up with the child. Not now.” Flashing a slight scowl, she threw Heathy a glare. “Not to mentionhim.He’ll be the death of me, I tell ye.”
Jon kneaded the increasingly tense muscles in the back of his neck. “I shall contact the agency.” Hopefully, he exuded more confidence than he felt.
“The agency that recommended Miss Pritchard?” Another well-timed sigh escaped her. “Do ye truly trust their judgment?”
The woman had a point. The agency’s director had spoken highly of the dour nanny who’d walked away without so much as a day’s notice. Their assessment had left much to be desired.
“So, Mrs. Gilroy, what would you suggest?”
“It is not my place to tell ye what to do,” she said, making a show of her uncharacteristic hesitation. “But I’d suggest ye clear yer schedule for a few days... just until ye find a governess to assist with the child and the household.”
“Clear my schedule?” If the woman had suggested he should find a bottle that housed a genie—a genie with an affinity for cleaning, cooking, children, and pets, no less—he might’ve been less surprised.
Once again attempting to rise, she contorted her features and added a dramatic wince. “I understand.”
“You know I won’t stand by idly while you’re in pain,” he said as she sank back to her seat. “I’ll say it again—you need to rest.”
“But how?” Her gaze trailed to the door leading to the kitchen. “Unless there’s someone ye feel ye can trust... someone with a kind heart to watch over Carrie.” A small smile tugged at her mouth. “Someone who can tolerate the ball of fur with teeth.”
He tried to frown, if only to make the point that he didn’t appreciate the old woman’s scheming ways. But in his gut, he knew she was right.
“Someone with a kind heart, eh?”
She gave a slow nod. “What would be the harm in it?”
This time, his frown was genuine. “Where should I begin?”
“At least for a few days, until we can find someone else.” Mrs. Gilroy slanted Carrie a glance. “Ye’ve seen Miss Frost with the wee lass. They took to each other from the start.”
Mrs. Gilroy was right about that much, at least. Carrie had immediately warmed up to Belle. And Belle—well, she had a weak spot for little ones and wee creatures with four legs. But she’d demonstrated her compassion through her charities and such. What did she know about taking care of anything or anyone, including herself? By thunder, in Manhattan she’d had a lady’s maid whose duties seemed to revolve around pinning Belle’s hair into the latest styles and ensuring her taffeta gowns bore no wrinkles.
“You do realize she’s never had to lift a finger in her life?” He pointed out what should’ve been obvious to his housekeeper. Belle was an heiress. Not a workman’s daughter.
“She’ll learn what needs to be done. She’s got spirit, that one.”
“Spirit?” That was one way of putting it.
“Miss Frost will be kind to the girl,” Mrs. Gilroy went on. “I can see it in her eyes.”
“Sheisfond of little ones. But she’s never actually had totake careof one,” he countered.
“The lass has a good heart. That much, I can tell ye.”
Blast it, Mrs. Gilroy nearly had him convinced. But Carrie needed structure. She needed consistency. And for that, she needed a governess who would be there for more than a short time—more than the days he anticipated Belle might be in residence.
“Of course, ye could watch over the child until I’m back onbothof my feet,” Mrs. Gilroy went on. “She’d enjoy some time with ye, I’m sure.”
