Page 30 of Miss Dauntless
What Matilda wanted astonished her. A hug—from Tremont. A little embrace in the middle of the day to fortify her against petty vexations. Some affection to remind her that life was full of small pleasures and that a moment could turn sweet without warning.
She’d learned with Harry not to initiate such moments, lest they turn unsweet—for her.
“I want to gobble your tea cakes, my lord. Let me fetch my ledgers, and I’ll meet you by the front door.”
“I will retrieve the ledgers from the library. You might want to look in on Tommie and tell him you’re going out. Remind him that spies like to come and go through the postern gate.”
“How do you do that?” Matilda asked, starting for the stairs to the first floor. “You are the epitome of organization and self-possession, but then you offer proof that your imagination is capable of flights, even as you look all dapper and adult.”
Tremont followed her up the steps, as a gentleman was supposed to. “I am sadly lacking in imagination, or happily unbothered by fancies, but I do recall my childhood. Like Tommie, I had few playmates, and like Tommie, I dwelled in a sizable domicile full of people larger than I. A boy finds ways to pass the time.”
His lordship had conceived of this house, of the landscaping venture, of a means of earning a living in the slums, and yet, he considered himself lacking in imagination.
Matilda paused at the top of the steps. “What spies came in through your postern gate, my lord?”
He gave the same smile—all sweet reason—but a little sadder. “Responsibility, duty, familial obligations, patriotism, and myriad dull pursuits attendant to adulthood. To the parapets with you, Mrs. Merridew, and I will meet you by the front door.”
Tommie informed Matilda from beneath a construction of blankets that pirates were swarming up the beach, and she’dbest get to safety as soon as she could. As she came back down the steps, she realized that even a short exchange with Tremont had improved her spirits.
That he would drape her cloak about her shoulders, hand her her gloves, and hold the door for her made the day inexplicably better.
That he’dlistenwhile she ranted about domestic annoyances, not argue with her, offer remedies for a moment long past, or chide her for being annoyed made the afternoon nearly lovely.
“You were right,” she said as Tremont offered his arm at the foot of the terrace steps.
“About?”
“I am the new officer, and my authority will be tested. Squabbling maids, wagering men, and lazy senior staff aren’t the end of the world. They are normal signs of a household adjusting to change, even change for the better.”
“And yet, those small tests are exasperating,” he said. “One wants to simply get on with the job, not waste time and effort insisting on the obvious. The tests will become less frequent, though they never entirely stop. The military appeals to those who take a certain comfort from arbitrary order and pointless routine. Those same individuals apparently feel compelled to ensure that the order and routine will survive minor insurrections. The whole business is set up to function in combat, but so little time is actually spent in combat that the reasons and the realities can drift out of sight from one another.”
They approached the intersection that had belonged to Charles, and of course, another grubby, skinny boy was at the ready with his shovel and barrow.
“Your name, lad,” Tremont asked, tossing the boy a coin.
“Patrick. You’re Tremont. Charles said you’re a good ’un.”
“I am pleased to have his endorsement. If you’re ever in the mood to pay him a call and pass the time, he’s at the big house with all the soldiers down the street and ’round the corner. The door will always be open to you, and I trust you’ll keep watch on the surrounds for us.”
Patrick saluted with his broom. “Aye, milord. I allus keep a sharp eye. Missus.” Patrick offered Matilda a jaunty bow and then trotted off toward a steaming pile of horse droppings.
“I meant to inquire after Charles,” Tremont said. “I suppose he would have decamped for his home shires by now if he meant to.”
“He’s a hard worker, and his greatest worry is that his auntie will come along and snatch him away from us. His second-greatest worry is that she will forget about him entirely.”
“For the boy’s sake, perhaps that would be best. May I ask you a question?”
The day was brisk enough that nobody was tarrying on the walks, and yet, the sun was out, and Matilda was very much enjoying the fresh air.
“Ask, my lord.”
“You did not care to have me standing behind you when I was unknotting your apron. I didn’t imagine that, did I?”
With Harry, Matilda had learned to lie of necessity, though she used that option sparingly and only when she knew she could carry off the deception. With Tremont, lies simply would not do.
“I learned to keep Harry in sight at all times.”
“The better to guard against presumptions upon your person?”
