Page 28 of His Lordship's True Lady
“Your devotion to your niece does you credit, Mrs. Braithwaite,” Hessian said, rising. “I will consider your request, but Amy Marguerite was entrusted to my care, and Lord and Lady Evers’s final arrangements made no provision for turning the child over to you for rearing. You are asking me disregard the wishes of the child’s parents andshirk my duty, and that I am unlikely to do. For the present, the girl needs stability, not upheaval, so I will thank you to respect my wishes.”
Miss Smythe scooted to the edge of the sofa, but did not rise until Mrs. Braithwaite was on her feet.
“My lord, Amy Marguerite is a female. Surely when Lady Evers assented to naming you as guardian, she did so anticipating that your household would include your own lady wife. Until such time as you can offer at least that much female guidance to the child, my household is the more appropriate home for her.”
Hessian opened the door and stood by it. “I was widowed by the time Amy Marguerite was born, and her parents well knew my circumstances. I’ll wish you good day, Mrs. Braithwaite, and thank you for your interest in your niece. Feel free to send her a note of condolence, or some small token of her mother’s memory, if any you have. Miss Smythe, a pleasure to meet you.”
Mrs. Braithwaite drew in such a long breath, Hessian thought she might pop a nacre button off her bodice. She tried subjecting him to a sniffy, up-and-down perusal, but he was a northern earl, and her indignation was nothing compared to the tempers and feuds his tenants and neighbors could get up to over imagined slights.
He accompanied the ladies to the foyer, mostly to ensure they did in fact leave the premises, and waited until the butler had closed the front door behind them.
“Hochman, I am not at home to Mrs. Braithwaite in future, unless I specifically tell you otherwise.”
“I’ll inform the footmen, my lord. Miss Ferguson and Miss Bronwyn have arrived, and Miss Daisy has joined them in the library.”
“Well done. The young ladies might want a tea tray in the garden.”
“With plenty of biscuits?”
“Hochman, you are a man of discernment.”
While Hessian was a man much in need of sensible conversation and a strategy for dealing with Mrs. Braithwaite.
* * *
No more embracing, no more yearning,no more kissing.
Lily’s strategy where Lord Grampion was concerned was simple, also painful. She resigned herself to cordiality—he deserved at least that—and to as much truthfulness as she could afford. She had stolen a memorable kiss, and must content herself with that treasure.
“Greetings, ladies,” the earl said, bowing over Lily’s hand and then over Bronwyn’s. “I am delighted to see you.”
“So am I,” Daisy said. She aimed a smile at Bronwyn, who grinned back, and for reasons known only to little girls, this occasioned a cascade of giggles.
Once upon a time, long, long ago, Lily had giggled like that with Annie, and the sound still had the power to make her smile.
“What will you be today?” his lordship asked. “Corsairs, Wellington at Waterloo, Good Queen Bess presiding over her court? Perhaps you’ll put the fountain to use re-enacting the Battle of Trafalgar, though the weather’s a bit cool for that entertainment.”
He aimed the question at the girls, and Lily was assailed by the realization that at some point, this rather serious, titled fellow had been a boy. He had climbed trees, dammed up streams, likely built campfires in the home wood, and gone swimming without benefit of clothing or adult supervision.
Despite the typical self-absorption of an adolescent, he’d also noticed at least one difficult, younger female child taking the air in Hyde Park.
“What’s Trafalgar?” Daisy asked.
“That’s where Lord Nelson died.” Bronwyn said. “Heroes can be dead and still be heroes, but I prefer the ones like my papa and Wellington, who are still alive. Wellington’s horse is Copenhagen. He was sometimes naughty, but a fine battle mount.”
Daisy looked fascinated. “Your papa is a hero?”
“Perhaps you ladies might finish that discussion in the garden?” his lordship suggested.
“Or in the nursery,” Lily said. “The weather is becoming threatening.”
“So it is,” the earl said. “We’ll send a tea tray up to the nursery, then. Be off with you, and mind the breakables.”
Daisy shot him a curious look as Bronwyn snatched her hand and dragged her toward the door.
Leaving Lily alone with a man whom she must neither encourage nor alienate.
“I had thought to leave Bronwyn with you for a short time,” she said. “My cousin Oscar was to have accompanied us here, but woke with a megrim. I can return for Bronwyn later, or you can send her home with a nursery maid or footman.”
