A Prince for Aunt Hetty (6 page)

“You say you all want to play a game?” She asked. The children nodded vigorously. “And you want to play this game with
my
apples?” They nodded again. “Hmmm...” she kept them on edge. “Well, I guess that would be fine. Mama and papa don't need apple tarts for their guests, do they?”

The children's eyes went wide. Hetty knew for a certainty that the apple tarts had already been assembled and these apples were not destined for any tarts this evening. Mrs. Lowell finally broke into a smile and the children sighed her in relief.

“I am just joshing ya, children. You may have my apples for your game,” the children started to lunge for the fruit, “but only if Maria and I can play, too.”

“Yes!” They giggled as the cook made a silly face at them.

“Miss Agnes, since you asked me so nicely, would you pick out the biggest apple for me?” Mrs. Lowell asked. Agnes immediately fell to her important task. Not wanting to miss out on picking a prime one, the other children continued their climb over to the bowl to grab apples for themselves.

Hetty stood up with Stephen and put him down on the bench. She moved to get a knife to peel the apples.

“Who should go first?” Hetty asked.

“Mrs. L! Mrs. L!” Agnes shouted and thrust out the biggest apple toward her. The others quickly chimed in, chanting her name until the woman had taken the apple and begun to peel it. They waited while she finished going around and around the fruit, creating one long peel. She took a bite out of the apple and then set it on the table.

Mrs. Lowell pretended to take this all very seriously. “Now, children, will yah say it with me?” She paused to let them join in. “Apple peel --”

“Apple peel,” they chanted as one. “Please reveal... the initial of my true love!”

As they excitedly finished the chant, Mrs. Lowell turned her back to them and tossed the peel over her shoulder. The children leaped up from the table and gathered around.

“Don't touch it!” Margaret commanded. “Don't mess it up!”

They all peered at it and began guessing what letter the apple peel had formed. The girls were especially interested. Hetty laughed at their earnestness. She remembered her own girlhood of playing these kinds of games with her sister and friends, desperately hoping that the apple peel truly held the initial of the man she would marry.

But Hetty never had gotten married and she'd long ago stopped feeling any pang of regret on that front. Her young nieces, though, had their whole lives in front of them and all they wanted was to find out who they would fall in love with. She did not relish the day when they found out that true love and a good marriage did not necessarily mean the same thing. She'd seen it happen more often than not in London society. Oh, how much these young ones had to learn. It pinched at her heart.

The children had settled on the idea that the apple peel was in the shape of the letter C.

“C! My husband would have been glad to know that,” she laughed heartily. Mr. Lowell had passed away nearly a decade ago, but Mrs. Lowell still told stories of him.

“What was his name?” Margaret asked in an excited manner.

Mrs. Lowell paused, teasing them. Finally she flashed her eyes and said, “Charles!”

“Charles!” They all yelled, excited. “It works! It works!”

“I think Maria should go next, seeing as she and Mrs. Lowell have some work they need to get back to,” Hetty prompted. The girl shyly approached the group gathered around the apple peel on the ground. Vanessa held out an apple to her, welcoming her into the fold. Hetty thought Maria could not be that much older than Vanessa herself, but her shyness made her seem younger. She was less confident than Mrs. Lowell had been, but the peel grew longer and longer. The children watched intently as it did, concentrating very hard on the task.

Maria finished her task and looked up expectantly. They all began the chant.

“Apple peel, apple peel, please reveal the initial of my true love.”

As they finished, Maria turned her back to the group and threw the peel over her shoulder. She was a little too ambitious, though, and the peel hit Agnes on the head before falling to the floor. Maria looked horrified for a moment before Agnes started to giggle. Then all of the children joined her until they were laughing so much they were almost crying. Hetty couldn't resist either and found herself wiping tears from her eyes.

Finally, Mrs. Lowell said that she and Maria needed to get back to work. So the children looked at the peel and determined it was in the shape of a G. They eagerly questioned Maria to see if she knew anyone whose name began with G. The girl blushed and shook her head. Hetty thought she just might have a special someone in mind. How nice to have a tender spot for someone, to look forward to their presence.

Vincent scooped up the peel from the floor and the children decided who should go next.

“Aunt Hetty next!” Vanessa declared and the other children accepted her decree.

Hetty took an apple and the knife and began to peel. Around and around the uneven fruit she went, creating a long tail of juicy peel. Again the children watched attentively. Finally, she finished and put the apple and the knife down.

“Are you ready?” She asked the children. They chanted again.

“Apple peel, apple peel, please reveal the initial of my true love.”

Like Mrs. Lowell and Maria before her, Hetty turned her back and tossed the peel. It didn't hit anyone this time, but instead fell on the table behind them. The children turned and began their intense examination. Hetty leaned over and looked with them. She knew it was silly, but she was just as curious as they were about what the peel would reveal.

They were all still deciding on whether the peel looked like a D or a G when there was a knock at the open door and someone cleared his throat.

“Ahem.”

The merriment stopped as the children froze, afraid of being punished for doing something they should not have been doing. Hetty snapped up straight as she recognized the man in the doorway. His sudden appearance startled her.

“Mr. Henderson! Mr. Henderson!” Margaret called. “Come play our game!”

A smile spread over his face. Hetty's heart thumped hard in her chest. She convinced herself it was doing that because she had been startled.

“Mr. Henderson. I was... we were just... did you need something?” Hetty stuttered.

“Miss Masters, I noticed your absence and I believe we are almost ready to go in for dinner.” He spoke formally, but there was a flash of amusement in his eyes. Still, he made her nervous. The children were now ignoring the adults and looking at the apple peel on the table. There was still some debate about what letter it was showing.

“Oh? Has so much time passed?” Hetty wrung her hands nervously while he watched. “I shall be there momentarily.”

Mr. Henderson nodded and then addressed the children. “I must drag your aunt away from the game, children. I see
you
have had your dinner but
we
have not. And I have heard that your cook is the best in this area.” The last was spoken even louder so that Mrs. Lowell could hear it on the other side of the kitchen. The woman smiled and nodded at the guest.

“Don't go! Don't go!” The children called as he backed out of the doorway and into the hall. He gave them a tender smile as he went.

“Hush, children,” she scolded as she smoothed her dress, a gesture of nervous relief that his eyes weren't on her anymore. “You all may continue to play. But I would like Vanessa to peel the apples for Stephen, Vincent, Harriet, and Agnes, please.” The younger children groaned. “No moaning! Knives can be dangerous and I don't want anyone to cut themselves. Mrs. Lowell is about to serve the adults dinner and she cannot watch you. If you would like to keep playing, that is the rule.” They all grumbled again. “Good, then. I love you all, my dears, and I will see you tomorrow.”

Hetty's dress wrinkled again with the hugs and kisses the children insisted upon before she joined Mr. Henderson in the hallway. He was leaning against the wall, clearly lost in thought.

It was Hetty's turn to clear her throat. “Ahem.”

He sprang upright at the sound. “Miss Masters.” Another courtly tilt of his head that both acknowledged her presence and somehow indicated that he was glad to see her. Hetty wondered again where he had learned his impeccable manners.

“I'm sorry,” she offered. “I had to get the children situated. I hope I did not inconvenience you... One of the servants might have come for me.”

“They might have,” he agreed. “But I suspect that we both had another motive for escaping the noise of the drawing room.”

Hetty arched her eyebrows in inquiry. She had needed to compose herself after seeing him. What could his motive be? “I suspect so.”

Without further comment, he offered his arm. “The others have just crossed the hall and gone into dinner. Shall we join them?”

Hetty took his arm, her nerves stirring again as she drew closer to him. When she was certain he wasn't looking at her, Hetty inhaled deeply and sent up a prayer that she would make it through dinner without embarrassing herself.

Chapter Four

R
UPERT SWIRLED THE
port around in his glass, fascinated with the way the light played off of the liquid and comforted by the warmth spreading through his insides after the big sip he'd taken. Usually he would be delighted to discuss all manner of things with the gentlemen who had stayed behind in the dining room. But tonight he truly wished to be across the hall with the women.

Dinner was delicious, but it had afforded little time for conversation with Miss Masters. With such a small group of people, the talk had carried on back and forth and up and down the table, necessitating his attention to the other guests instead of solely to the woman sitting beside him. Of course they'd both participated. And he'd seen her laughingly throw witticisms around with ease. She'd even addressed a comment or two to him, asking his opinion of some aspect of London life. He'd played her off with something silly and noncommittal.

But Rupert really wanted to have a conversation with her. One that didn't involve children or other guests. One that would perhaps tell him more about this woman who had captured his imagination. He'd done a bad job of it earlier, he knew. But his nerves had gotten the better of him. When they'd met before, there had been some outside purpose – either to rescue her from a muddy walk or to play a game with the children. On their own in a drawing room, he found that he lost his confidence and couldn't find words that he thought might please her.

Rupert took another swig of the port and swirled it again. This time the colors were different. The same motion, but different results. He stored that away in his memory.

“Well, gentlemen,” Jonathan Hayes announced. “I believe we have given the women more than enough time to rake us all over the coals. I suggest we put a stop to their gossip while we still have some secrets left.”

The men took their glasses and crossed the hall into the drawing room, laughing at Hayes' words. Rupert knew he was safe from the gossip, though, since there was no one here who knew any of his secrets. His chest tightened at the thought. It might be nice if someone did know enough about him to talk.

The women raised a delighted cry when they entered the drawing room. Rupert saw that card tables had been set up for them. The others were already pairing off for their games. He hung back, waiting to see if Miss Masters would accept an invitation to play. She declined though, and remained in her seat on the far side of the room, another point to add to his growing list of things that intrigued him about her. He could add it between her easy authority with the children and her charming smile and ready laugh.

“Henderson, will you play?” called Lathrop Howett. Rupert had liked the man on sight and the pleasure had only grown when they had talked at dinner. But Rupert had other ideas about how his evening would go. And he also considered the small amount of his current pension. He could not really afford to play even if it suited him.

“Thank you, Mr. Howett, but I think I will sit this one out,” Rupert replied.

“Suit yourself, sir. But I reserve the right to call on you later, if needed,” Mr. Howett smiled at him and turned his full attention to the game.

“As you wish, Mr. Howett,” he laughed. The other table was also full and deciding on what their first wagers would be. Rupert had played many games of cards in his lifetime. He dearly loved it, especially when the company was good, as it was tonight. But now he had the perfect opportunity to speak with Miss Masters on her own. Perhaps he might redeem himself for earlier.

Glass still in hand, Rupert made his way to the far end of the room.

“May I sit with you,
Miss
Masters?” He decided to tease her about the Miss again. Hopefully, that would set a lighthearted mood. If, that is, she took his bait.

“Of course you may,” she smiled but did not seem to notice the small joke.

They sat in silence for a moment. Rupert considered how to begin and how to show her he came as a friend. Her silence now made him sure that it was something about himself that made her nervous or uncomfortable. She had not acted like this when they were in the larger company, only when they were left alone together.