Page 146 of The Rogue's Last Scandal
Epilogue
Two months later, Yorkshire, West Riding
“We’re losing our nursemaid, Gracie.” Charley looked up from the ball he was lining up. The flat stretch of garden had been perfect for this game of lawn wickets which the Everly family claimed to love.
Perry waved a mallet threateningly. “Don’t be ridiculous. I love her prodigiously, but Reina can spare me for a few weeks. Gracie is with her every morning, and Francisca allows me only a little time all alone with my niece. And you have hired a perfectly good staff. And I have not seen my friend Cecilia in an age. Since her father died, she never comes up to London. When will I have this opportunity again?”
Charley eyed the ball and whacked it. He cleared a wicket and bumped Graciela’s ball.
“Sorry, my dear.” He grinned at her.
A little too brightly, she thought. He was worried about Perry.
“I’m not sure I should allow you to gallivant about the countryside, dear sister.”
“You are not my father, dear brother.”
“I’m not sure Father or Bakeley would approve.”
She harrumphed. “What about Bink? Why not include him?”
Graciela stepped between them. “You must play your ball, Perry. I am getting bored.”
While Perry lined up her shot, Charley watched her closely.
Perry had come along with them to their new estate, bringing along the little maid Jenny who had worked for Paulette and then Sirena, to help train the girls they’d hired from the children’s home run by Bink’s friend, Lady Hackwell. It had been a busy month of settling in, and Perry’s help with the staff and the household management had been invaluable.
And now Perry was bored.
Graciela could understand that. Perry had no Charley to go to every night, no Charley to follow every bit of teasing with a kiss. Two nights ago, at dinner, she’d announced her plans. She would travel to East Yorkshire to visit with a friend she’d met her come-out year in London.
Perry’s ball cruised through the wickets and struck the post. “There,” she whooped. “I have won. I’m returning to the house to direct Jenny’s packing. I shall see you at dinner.”
Graciela picked up Perry’s tossed mallet. “Pack your pistols also,” she called.
Perry’s hand went up in a wave, but she did not turn or break her stride.
Graciela laughed.
“You shouldn’t encourage her.” He tapped his ball again.
“It’s my turn.”
He looked up and frowned. “Come here.”
“You are worried. Don’t be. You cannot stop her, Charley. She has no husband, she has no home of her own, no child to fret over, she is all at loose ends. She needs an adventure. Perhaps she’ll meet a good suitor on this visit. Your father will understand. He will not mind.”
“He will mind plenty, as will my brothers. She is up to something. I should accompany her there. I won’t stay. I’ll return right away.”
“You have the workmen coming to install the new stove in the kitchen. You have grooms to hire. You have repairs on the roof to supervise. You have tenants to meet with.”
He tossed his mallet, scowling. “Fine. Come here.”
She smiled and walked into his arms, looking up into his eyes.
“Drat. I never thought I would be dealing with roofs and tenants and stoves like Bakeley. I always thought, poor sod, I’m glad he was born first. And now I’m a regular sod myself.”
“You are. And you have something else in common with your brother.”
