Rebecca Hagan Lee (18 page)

Garnet grinned. “We get mine slippers and find mine daddy.”

Elizabeth grinned back. It sounded like a good plan to her and the fact that she was seeking guidance and instruction from a precocious two-year-old didn’t escape her notice. But what else could she do? She had a wealth of experience handling school-aged girls, but she was at a complete loss with toddlers. Even Garnet knew more about caring for her younger siblings than Elizabeth did. She shifted Emerald in her arms, then took Garnet by the hand and allowed the little girl to lead the way into the nursery.

As they entered the nursery bedroom, Elizabeth discovered she and Garnet had other problems to attend to. The baby, Diamond, was awake and fussing in her crib, and Emerald had wet her undergarments.

“Di hungry,” Garnet said, stepping into her slippers before pushing a child-sized step stool from the foot of her bed and using it to peer through the slats of the crib at the crying and squirming baby.

“And Emerald’s wet.” Elizabeth felt the warm wet liquid on her arms and on the front of her nightgown as she lowered the protective rails and placed Emerald on her bed. She tugged the end of Emerald’s nightie up over her hips and legs and stared down at the soggy diaper. “Where are the diapers?” she asked.

“Over there.” Garnet shifted her weight from foot to foot and pointed to two neatly folded stacks of cotton cloths and infant dresses sitting atop thin, flat cotton padding protecting the surface of a rather squat and unadorned bureau. “Mine bring you,” she answered, hopping off the step stool and pushing it over toward the bureau, eager to help.

Elizabeth watched as Garnet stopped several times on her journey across the nursery floor, pausing for breath and wiggling back and forth from one foot to the other. Understanding dawned and Elizabeth feared Garnet had the same urgent need as her younger sister.

“Emerald’s already wet,” Elizabeth said, pulling the rails on Emerald’s bed firmly into place as she addressed Garnet. “She can wait a moment longer for her diaper. Do you need to use the pot?”

Garnet looked blank.

Elizabeth searched for an expression Garnet would understand. “Do you need to use the potty? The privy? The convenience?” She thought for a moment. James Craig was British. What did the British call it? “Do you need to use the water closet?” Still, Garnet didn’t reply. “The w.c.?”

“Wacee.” Garnet beamed, then nodded her head.

Elizabeth heaved a sigh of relief. She didn’t remember seeing a child’s nursery chair anywhere about, so she assumed they used the same water closet Mrs. G. had pointed out to her. She knew Delia had bathed the Treasures there the night before because the floor was still slightly damp when she used it. And since she didn’t see another water closet in the nursery, she turned to Garnet for guidance. “Go on. Go on to the wacee.”

Garnet frowned. “Mine not go by self.”

Elizabeth spared a glance at Emerald, who still slept soundly, despite the wet diaper, then at Diamond, who was making her presence known by crying louder. Elizabeth walked over to the crib and carefully lifted Diamond, cradling her against her shoulder and feeling, once again, the unmistakable dampness of a wet diaper staining her nightgown.
“All right, Precious,” she cooed to the baby, jiggling her a bit on her shoulder, “I know you’re hungry and wet, but we must take care of Garnet’s needs first, then we’ll take care of you and Emmy.” Elizabeth smiled down at Garnet. “Lead the way to the wacee, sweetheart. Diamond and I are right behind you.”

Garnet did as she was instructed, leading Elizabeth through the bedroom to the tiny kitchen, where she turned and opened the door to the bath and water closet. Elizabeth took note of the second porcelain doorknob on the door of the water closet—one set inches lower than the regular doorknob. One she had failed to notice the night before. Elizabeth followed Garnet into the necessary, and leaned against the vanity, watching as the little girl walked around the toilet and pushed aside the privacy screen at the foot of the large bathtub to reveal a step stool identical to the one in the nursery bedroom and a child-sized invalid’s chair complete with porcelain pot.

When Garnet finished with the invalid’s chair, Elizabeth helped her set her nightgown to rights and maneuver the step stool into place beside the tub so she could wash her hands at the bathtub faucet. Elizabeth was feeling quite proud of herself as she led Garnet back into the nursery bedroom. She thought maybe even Mrs. Glenross would be proud of her for correctly interpreting Garnet’s needs and learning to assist her, while she soothed the fretful baby—and all at one time.

Diamond had discovered her thumb while Elizabeth was helping Garnet in the bathroom and her crying had subsided to little satisfied sucking sounds as she dozed. Elizabeth softly patted the baby on her back, then placed Diamond in her crib. All that remained was the task of diapering the two wet bottoms and Elizabeth decided to start with Emerald and work her way down to Diamond. She grabbed two of the neatly folded cotton cloths from the top of the bureau and two infant sacques and walked over to Emerald’s bed.

Lowering the rails, Elizabeth leaned over the bed. She
studied Emerald’s diaper carefully, noting the positioning of the three corners and the way it was fastened, then unpinned it and rolled Emerald from one hip to the other in order to remove it. Elizabeth lifted the sodden diaper away from Emerald and from herself, holding it gingerly by one corner as she looked around for a place to deposit it.

“Here,” Garnet said, lifting the lid from a large pail.

Elizabeth dropped the diaper into the pail. Garnet shoved the lid into place, then hurried out of the room. Elizabeth heard the splash of water running in the necessary next door. Alarmed, Elizabeth called out to her, “Garnet? Garnet, what are you doing?”

Garnet returned to the nursery carrying a dripping facecloth that she shoved at Elizabeth.

Realizing that Garnet knew more about the running of the nursery and the changing of diapers than she did, Elizabeth made use of her little fount of helpful information. “Show me.”

Garnet lifted her nightgown and pretended to wash.

Balancing on one foot, Elizabeth toed off the lid of the pail, held the facecloth over it and wrung out the excess water before she used it to wash Emerald. Emerald awoke at the first touch of the cold cloth. She smiled sleepily up at Elizabeth, then lay quietly, playing with her fingers, her dark, almost liquid, black eyes taking note of her new governess’s every movement.

Finished with the bathing, Elizabeth dropped the soiled facecloth into the pail with the wet diaper and positioned a fresh diaper beneath Emerald. She pulled the triangular pieces of linen together until the ends met in the middle of Emerald’s chubby little belly and loosely pinned them together with a large safety pin, taking great pains not to pull the fabric too tightly or to bind Emerald in any way. She was about to celebrate her accomplishment when Garnet bumped her elbow with a decorated metal can of Fine Nursery Talcum Powder.

Elizabeth looked down and found that Garnet had already sprinkled some of the fine powder onto her hands
and was busy rubbing it across her abdomen and down her legs. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight, for the clever toddler was rubbing the talc into the fabric of her bunched up nightie. “I know you think I’m hopeless in the nursery,” Elizabeth said, making a funny face to emphasize her point to Garnet. “But, believe it or not, I know what to do with talcum powder. I just didn’t realize you used it on babies.” Elizabeth unpinned Emerald’s diaper, held out her hand and motioned for Garnet to fill it with talc, then sprinkled the powder on Emerald. As she rubbed the superfine powder into Emerald’s tender skin, Elizabeth marveled at the contrast between the very white, very soft powder, and Emerald’s much darker, much softer body.

Emerald giggled as Elizabeth touched a ticklish spot as she carefully repinned the diaper, and Elizabeth found herself cooing to the little girl, “Does that feel good to you? Is that ticklish?”

“Mine.” Garnet said, bumping Elizabeth’s elbow again with the box of powder and lifting the hem of her gown to allow Elizabeth access to her stomach. Elizabeth poured more powder into the palm of her hand and coated Garnet’s midriff with it.

In a matter of minutes both little girls were giggling with delight at the new game. Elizabeth took advantage of their amusement to whisk Emerald’s soiled nightgown over her head and grab the fresh one meant to go on in its place from the bed rail. Emerald laughed uproariously as Elizabeth played peekaboo with her, pulling the old gown off over her head, momentarily covering Emerald’s face and tousling her dark, black hair.

“What’s going on in here?”

At the sound of the deep baritone voice, Elizabeth automatically let go of Emerald’s nightgown. It slipped out of her grasp and fluttered to the floor, forgotten, while Elizabeth, twisting her hands in the folds of her nightgown like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar, turned toward the door.

James Craig stood on the threshold, watching.

“
DADDY
!”
GARNET AND
Emerald squealed with glee and reached out to him.

“Hello, my little beauties.” James entered the bedroom, then knelt down and opened his arms to welcome Garnet. “What’s been keeping you? Your sister is already downstairs with Mrs. G. awaiting her breakfast.” He hugged Garnet close, lifting her into his arms as he got to his feet and walked over to Emerald’s bed. “Hello, Miss Sadler,” he said, his voice low and husky as he noticed that she was barefoot, and that the smoke-colored satin wrapper she wore had come untied, allowing tantalizing glimpses of her delicate white lawn nightdress to show. James decided he liked the way she looked in the morning when her exceptional blue-green eyes were heavy-lidded and languid and her face still bore the marks from her pillowcase and the braid confining her thick tawny mane of hair was rumpled from sleep. And although his visits to the nursery before breakfast were a part of his everyday routine, the chance to glimpse Elizabeth Sadler looking as she looked right now gave him added incentive to continue to rise early to check on his children.

“Mr. Craig.” Elizabeth nodded to her employer in what she hoped was a professional manner.

James quirked his lips into a half-smile, then turned his attention to Garnet and Emerald. He planted a kiss on Garnet’s forehead, then listened intently as she babbled happily. When Garnet finished speaking, James nodded gravely as if he had understood every word of her nonsensical chatter then replied, “You two look like you raided the flour bin again. What’s going on up here? What mischief have you gotten into while Miss Sadler’s back was turned?” James pretended to ask Garnet and Emerald, but he looked over their heads and directed his gaze—and his questions—at Elizabeth.

“N-n-no mischief, Mr. Craig.” Elizabeth barely managed to get the words out. There was something in his look, something in his tone of voice that made her breath catch in her throat. Her heart began to pound. Her mouth went dry. And she seemed to be having trouble regulating her breathing. She stared at James Craig—at his expensive suit and the fine white powder smeared across the front of his waistcoat and tie. Elizabeth cringed, remembering the many times she had run to her mother, eager to show her love and affection by offering a hug, and received a scolding for mussing her dress instead. She gritted her teeth, straightened her shoulders, and steeled herself for James’s stinging rebuke, knowing it would come once he realized that the child he held in his arms had marred his immaculate appearance.

But James Craig surprised her. He noticed the talc on Garnet, then glanced down at the powder dusting the front of his suit, shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “oh, well,” then looked up at the ceiling and laughed.

And in that moment Elizabeth knew she was in danger of giving her heart away. She remembered the buttery handprints and the blotch of jam that had stained the suit he’d worn to the jail. She remembered catching an intriguing whiff of what smelled like strawberries and wanting to reach out a finger and touch the stain, then taste it to see
if her sense of smell had deceived her. She wanted a taste this time, too. Not of the talcum powder on the front of his suit, but of him. James Craig. She knew how talc felt against her skin, and she knew how his lips tasted; now she wanted another longer taste. She wanted to press her lips against his, to feel the texture of his lips and share his breath. She wanted to kiss him. And she wanted him to hold her in his arms the way he had held her the first time they met and kiss her the way he had kissed her at Bender’s. Until she was breathless. Until she needed his breath to sustain her. Until she recognized every nuance, every flavor of his mouth and breath and touch.

“Miss Sadler?” James repeated for the second time. “Have my busy little Treasures been giving you problems?”

“N-no problems, Mr. Craig,” she stuttered, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment as she struggled to put aside her outlandish daydreams and concentrate on her job. She was a governess now. She must remember that—must remember that honorable men like James Craig did not kiss their children’s governess—except in times of emergency—like yesterday when they’d needed to put on a show for Lo Peng’s hatchet men. She wondered, suddenly, if any of the men in the black silk tunics emblazoned with red silk dragons had followed them from San Francisco to Coryville—and if they were watching now. She shivered at the thought of another emergency kissing.

“Miss Sadler? Elizabeth?”

“Yes?”

Staring at her bemused expression, James said, “If they haven’t been into mischief, how did they”—he glanced down at his suit and over at Elizabeth’s satin dressing gown—“
we
all become covered in talc?”

“Garnet was helping me change Emerald’s diaper. See?” Elizabeth smiled broadly, then turned to Emerald and proudly lifted her out of the baby bed to show off her handiwork.

And she watched in horror, as in the instant that Emerald
hung suspended by her arms, the diaper slid over Emerald’s narrow hips, down her legs, and onto her feet.