The Nanny Arrangement (12 page)

An old saying floated back into his mind, from years and years before. What had Father said to him?

“Once, my father said something that might be useful to you, Becky. He told me that God doesn’t call those who have everything they need to serve Him. Instead, He bestows everything you need upon you when He calls you. So remember that. You will have all you need to find your place in this world, in due time.” He hadn’t said anything remotely spiritual like that since before Ruth died. In fact, they’d have little debates about faith and God together as they sat in the garden at Kellridge or read together in her father’s library.

“That’s an excellent thought. I like that. I may write it down, to remember it whenever I feel discouraged.” Becky laid her sewing to one side and placed her chin on her hands, her dreamy large eyes lifted, as though she saw something grand and powerful just beyond him.

Paul rose. He had done enough. Promised enough, comforted enough. These interviews with Becky stirred feelings within him that he’d buried with Ruth long ago. Her conversation led him down paths he hadn’t traversed in years. And these changes were difficult and painful.

He bid her good-night in a curt fashion and headed downstairs to his study. Usually, after any demanding day, he would assuage his feelings in liquor. Now, the brandy bottle didn’t beckon. The cut-crystal decanter, lit by candlelight, didn’t wink in the same alluring fashion.

He simply had no desire for anything tonight.

He crossed to the windows and flung them open, allowing the sweet evening breeze to flutter through the room. He leaned out on the windowsill, staring across the fields of Kellridge, fields that smelled fresh, like newly tilled earth.

His actions were noticed now. He could no longer hide behind the facade of being master. A two-year-old detected his lack of faith and brought him to heel. A lovely young nursemaid questioned his long-established methods and practices. Between the two of them, they had upended his carefully ordered life, just as a mule would kick over an apple cart. He was no longer able to conceal his actions, and already, he was beginning to change his ways.

He would go to Bible study. Nothing would change. He hadn’t listened to a single sermon after Ruth’s funeral. He had no need of anything God would promise, since God had seen fit to take Ruth away. He would go, but he would close his ears and shutter his mind against anything that might be said—anything that purported to speak to his heart.

So, his stance on Bible study and the Sabbath would have to change. His outward appearances must change. Juliet watched him and his actions with those large brown eyes of hers, assessing everything he did. Had he been able to escape to London before she arrived, he might have gotten away with never changing his ways. She was here now, and she knew him, and he must behave more properly to set a good example for her. ’Twould be a mere extension of the discipline he exercised over Kellridge. He would simply have to separate those two worlds—the world of his debaucheries, and the world that was his home—with an even greater distance.

Chapter Twelve

’T
was good indeed to be walking out in this fine weather. Becky clasped Juliet’s hand more tightly in her own and pointed at a flock of birds, startled into flight by their approach. Paul strode along beside them, his head turned toward the ground. If he was upset by Juliet’s insistence that he accompany them today to Bible study, he didn’t say so. His silence was rather unsettling. They had eschewed the carriage in view of the fine weather and with an eye toward wearing Juliet out. Though it was nice to be out in the splendid weather, the silence of her companions was a trifle grating on her nerves.

She had learned so much about Paul over the past few days. So much about his past, and about life at Kellridge. It was strange how people with so much privilege had so many troubles. Once her parents died and they moved in with Uncle Arthur, her family’s troubles were simple and clear-cut. Survival. Even as Uncle Arthur squandered their last pennies, even as their uncle and aunt tried to force Susannah into marriage to a man of their choosing, the Siddons girls’ one thought as a singular family unit had always been trained on survival.

But the Holmes family? So much fodder for a romantic novel. Unsuitable swains, forbidden love, a baby born too quickly for decent society, a quick flit to Italy. And that was just Juliana’s life. No telling what escapades Paul had been up to while all this was going on. He had always been regarded as the bad influence on her brother-in-law. In fact, Daniel had been reformed once he’d found faith and Susannah, but rather in spite of his good chum Paul.

She snuck a sidelong glance at Paul. Yes, those scars suited him well. What secrets did he hide behind that laconic mask of sarcasm, or his precise method of managing his existence? He was a romantic hero at heart, surely. If she were an authoress, she would pattern her hero on him—the same lurking darkness beneath the smooth surface.

Juliet tugged at her hand as they neared the gates of Goodwin Hall, bringing Becky crashing back to reality. No more epic poems, or novels, or windswept moments on the moor. She must not roam the fields of her imagination any longer. She was needed here and now by a child who required her full attention.

“Yes, Juliet. We are here, at Goodwin. For Bible study.” She spoke in response to the little one’s squeeze. Though it sounded rather inane to keep repeating every trifling thing and making grand announcements about the obvious, it did seem to be improving Juliet’s comprehension of English. “Goodwin Hall is my sister’s home. And the little chapel in the woods here is where we are bound.”

“Daniel seems to be in the process of plowing the far field,” Paul remarked. ’Twas the first thing he’d said in a quarter of an hour.

“Yes,” she replied, for want of something intelligent to say.

“I wonder what he’s planting so late in the year. I’ll have to ask him. His estate manager has some rather interesting notions about crops and allowing fields to lie fallow. I may have to have a chat with him some time. Perhaps he could advise me on Kellridge, though Parker is a good man.” Paul stuck his hands in his pockets and began to whistle.

“Hoot, hoot,” Juliet hummed in imitation. “Hooo.”

Paul glanced down at Juliet and smiled—a genuine, warm smile that made Becky catch her breath. He had, up until this moment, been only stern or slightly teasing with his ward. Was he softening at last? She would say nothing, of course. Better to let the moment pass without remark, for Paul might feel he was being called out or mocked if she remarked upon it. His smile was an excellent sign, surely.

They skirted the edge of Goodwin Hall and made their way to the chapel, the scene of so much distress a week ago. Juliet’s steps slowed a trifle and she stuck her fingers in her mouth. That was her sign that she was nervous. ’Twas a bad habit and one that she would have to break in time, but for the moment, Becky allowed her to continue. After all, ’twas much more important that they reach the chapel without Juliet giving vent to her temper.

As before, a group of children played in the clearing beside the building, and people—mostly tenants and servants, judging by their clothing—milled about. Becky searched the crowd for Susannah. Ah, yes. There she was. Even a modest white cap couldn’t conceal the bright glory of her sister’s hair. “Susannah,” she called, waving her free hand.

“Becky, my dear.” Susannah caught her skirts and bustled over to them, her smile lighting her face. “And little Juliet. So glad to see you again, you pretty thing. Why, that lavender dress just suits you.”

Juliet didn’t shrink beside Becky as she had before, but smiled shyly up at Susannah.

“Yes, your sister’s handiwork with her needle is quite remarkable.” Paul gave a courtly bow. “Susannah. Good to see you.”

Her elder sister bobbed a little curtsy. If she was surprised to see the rakish Paul at her Bible study meeting, she was too well-bred to let on. “Why don’t you allow me to take Juliet to the children’s study? Then you and Paul may find your seats in the chapel. Nan and Daniel are already inside.” She stooped and picked Juliet up. “Why, you are as light as a feather. Are you a little bird?” She continued chattering away to Juliet as she carried her toward the clearing in the woods.

“Do you think she will be all right?” Paul asked as he watched Susannah walk away.

“Susannah knows what she is about. She’s making much over Juliet and also giving us the chance to make a hasty exit. Less likelihood of a temper tantrum this way.” Really, her sister was so good with children. She could have been a nursemaid herself, had she not found her place as a milliner. And she would make a wonderful mother some day.

Paul tilted his head a little. “If you are certain...”

“Yes, let us go now.” Becky turned and found her way through the milling crowd. She gave one last glance to the children’s gathering. Yes, Susannah was there, introducing Juliet to the teacher. Judging from their gestures, they were making much over Juliet’s dress. No screaming or cries as of yet. They were safe.

She crossed the threshold of the chapel and scanned the few crowded pews for her family. Ah, there they were, Daniel sitting in the front row beside Nan. “Excuse me. Pardon me.” She managed to jostle her way up the small aisle and sink into the pew beside Nan. “I vow, this is quite a crowd today.”

“Becky!” Nan threw her arms around her sister. “You are here. We weren’t sure you would ever be able to come back, given how dreadfully your charge behaved.”

Becky made an inward groan. Trust Nan to say something like that when her charge’s uncle stood beside them.

“Paul? Are you really here?” Daniel stood, clapping his friend on the back. “I never thought I would find you in this chapel of your own free will.”

Paul shrugged. “One has to set a good example for one’s niece.” He gave a hearty laugh, and the two men settled down on the pew, joking and laughing together.

Becky was surprised at how disappointing Paul’s answer was. So jesting in nature. On the other hand, what did she expect him to say? Paul made no secret of the reason for his visit today. And he never spoke about why he’d avoided church in the past. So why did it matter now? Did she really expect him to change in the space of one morning?

Even so, ’twas rather discouraging.

Susannah bustled in, squeezing beside Becky in the pew and wrapping her arms around both sisters as far as they would go. “Ah, this is good. Seeing both of my sisters here again.”

“Is Juliet all right?” Becky gasped out the words as Susannah tightened her embrace.

“Yes, she will be fine. The children’s teacher, Miss Eugenia, has taken her under her wing. And there’s a child there about her age—the daughter of one of our servants—who is quiet and well behaved. They’re sitting together now. Hopefully little Mary will be a good influence on Juliet and not the other way ’round.” Susannah released her hold on Nan and Becky and leaned over. “So how on earth is it that Paul is here at Bible study today?” she whispered.

“Juliet convinced him.” Becky pitched her voice to match her sister’s. “She refused to come today unless he accompanied us.”

“And Paul gave in? How marvelous.” Susannah sat back, flicking a quick, assessing glance over Paul. “Perhaps being an uncle will do him a world of good.”

“Yes, perhaps.” She didn’t want to talk about Paul any longer with her sisters, nor did she enjoy discussing Juliet’s faults. Somehow, it felt rather disloyal to discuss Paul’s questionable past or to catalog Juliet’s flaws with her family. Why, her sisters had no knowledge of the whole of Juliana’s story. And without that crucial information, anything that was said seemed judgmental and even petty.

Growing up, especially after Mama and Papa passed away, she and her two sisters had been rather like Robinson Crusoe, shipwrecked on a strange island. Together they had weathered the storm that was life with Uncle Arthur. Although, in truth, Susannah had always been the leader and likely sheltered her two younger sisters from some of the more unpleasant aspects of their uncle’s avaricious nature.

The balance of their relationship had subtly shifted over the past year. Of course her eldest sister’s marriage meant that Susannah would focus more on her husband and his needs, and the running of his household. After Susannah left—yes, that was when their triumvirate collapsed. Her sisters were as dear to her as ever, but she couldn’t deny that the three of them had drifted apart since Susannah had married, and there was an emptiness in her heart that was now being filled by Juliet and Paul.

She settled back in the pew, focusing on Daniel as he strode over to the altar. Good—Bible study and prayer meeting was about to begin. What a relief. Though she loved seeing both of her sisters, ’twas unsettling to dwell on this change in their connections. She loved her sisters fiercely still, but she was compelled to defend and explain Paul and Juliet as she would defend and explain Nan and Susannah to outsiders.

In the space of a few weeks, her employer and her charge were becoming, well, not precisely dear to her, but she felt a strong sense of loyalty to them both. And that, surely, was to be expected after spending so much time in their company. All nursemaids must feel that sensation of allegiance. It must signify nothing more than this—that she was becoming good at her job.

With a sigh, Becky turned her full attention to Daniel. This new and confounding development must be placed to one side, to be examined later. Much later.

In fact, perhaps she shouldn’t examine it at all. If it was her romantic nature rearing its head again, ’twould be best if she never thought about allegiances and loyalties and family history, and simply focused on doing her job and doing it well.

’Twas what God called her to do, after all.

* * *

Paul found it disconcerting to see Daniel, of all people, leading a prayer meeting. Many times Paul had helped his friend out of gaming halls, or aided and abetted his life of decadence. Though Daniel had given up drinking even before marrying Susannah, when you knew a fellow your whole life and then saw him make an about-turn in morality, ’twas rather discombobulating, to say the very least.

What would a fellow do for love? Paul stifled a smirk. Well, Ruth had never asked him to give up drinking or to delve deeply into religion. No, she’d tolerated his dissolution as a lady of quality would, by merely looking the other way. He’d had but a few deep conversations with Ruth, centering mostly upon how they would manage Juliana once Ruth became mistress of Kellridge. Even knowing she would be there to help him as he undertook the management of his ancestral home had been a great comfort in the months after Papa had died.

Would he have given up those things, if Ruth had asked him? Paul twitched uncomfortably in the pew.

Well, it didn’t signify what he would have done because she’d never asked. And she died before they were wed, so his penchant for drinking and for cards had never become an issue between them.

Paul switched his attention to Daniel. Now, there was a fellow to whom matrimony seemed a blessing. By all appearances, Daniel didn’t miss his old corrupt life. If anything, he always was in a maddening good humor now, captivated by his pretty bride and fully immersed in his new life as master of Goodwin. Since their marriage, life at Daniel’s estate looked as though it had improved dramatically. And his newfound faith gave the impression of sincerity.

So then by these calculations, marriage could indeed be a partnership, one that could make a fellow turn away from what some people would consider sinful activities.

Paul folded his arms over his chest and stretched his booted feet out a bit. Beside him, Becky flicked one of her quick, appraising glances at his person, and then turned away. He was fidgeting too much. He must calm his roiling thoughts, for his restlessness disturbed Becky. She would take him to task later, surely.

Better to focus on Daniel. He could pay attention to what his friend said without really absorbing any of it.

“We chose as our study today the Gospel according to John, fifteenth chapter, fifth verse.
‘I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing.’
Let’s discuss this then, shall we? What does the Lord want us to know, and how can this apply to our own lives, as we go about our daily round?”

The crowd in the little church began to buzz with murmurs, as people turned to each other in the pews to thrash out the verse.

“Let us talk among ourselves—gather in little groups if you wish—and in a quarter of an hour, we shall congregate again and have a full dialogue.” Daniel closed the Bible and beckoned to Susannah, who joined him at the altar for the debate. Nan leaped up and trotted obediently after her elder sister.

That left just Becky sitting beside him in the pew. She gave a sudden, sharp movement, turning to him with something like desperation etched on her pretty face. “We don’t have to discuss it together. Truly, we don’t, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Paul shrugged. If he made too big of a matter out of this, it would indicate that he cared about it. He could converse a little with Becky and not be challenged in any way by this Bible study. “Nay, let us ponder these questions together. Why not?” He drew closer to her and placed his left arm across the top of the pew.