The Courting Campaign. Regina Scott
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Название: The Courting Campaign
Автор: Regina Scott
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Исторические любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon Love Inspired Historical
isbn: 9781472014344
isbn:
As if his guilt had shouted into the silence, Charlotte patted his arm, face softening. “Forgive me. I just miss her so.”
Nick touched her hand. “We all do. But you know she frequently donated her time and her gifts. I suspect she wouldn’t mind someone else using her things.”
Charlotte nodded, but she moved ahead of him to enter the withdrawing door near the foot of the stairs first.
Nick came more slowly. He knew Charlotte grieved the loss of her sister. But life was for the living, and holing himself up with his regrets would not solve the problems facing him.
Nor would it help him understand his daughter’s nanny. She was waiting for him in the withdrawing room, and despite Charlotte’s concerns, he thought Miss Pyrmont looked as if she belonged there, even in her plain brown wool dress. Perhaps it was the way she held her head high or the smile on her pink lips. Perhaps it was the way she clutched Alice’s hand as if to protect her. She met his gaze with an assessing look that made it seem as if he had strayed into her withdrawing room rather than the other way around.
For some reason, he wondered what she thought of the space. The withdrawing room wasn’t nearly as fussy as some he’d seen when he’d spent time in Society. Everything was neatly done in geometric shapes, from the gilded medallions on the walls and ceiling to the pink and green concentric circles of the carpet that covered the hardwood floor nearly from wall to wall. The white marble fireplace provided sufficient heat, the wall of windows and brass wall sconces sufficient light. The furniture was arranged in groupings, but a chaise in the corner provided rest for a retiring lady, or so Ann had always said.
He thought Miss Pyrmont would never be so retiring. But that hypothesis remained to be tested.
“Ladies,” he said with a bow. “Thank you for joining me this evening.”
Miss Pyrmont curtsied, and Alice copied her, a tiny figure in her red velvet gown. Charlotte smiled at her niece with obvious fondness.
“I believe Mrs. Jennings has dinner ready to be served,” she said. “Shall we?” She didn’t wait for his answer. She accepted Alice’s hand from her nanny and strolled toward the main door, which led into a salon and then the corridor.
Nick held out his arm. “Miss Pyrmont?”
For the first time, she looked uncertain. She glanced at his outstretched arm, then up at his face as if trying to understand the gesture. If she was from a good family as Charlotte had said, she should have been escorted in to dinner more than once. And even if she hadn’t, surely the master of a house could be expected to act with chivalry on occasion.
He could see her swallow against the high neck of her gown. Then her gaze darted past him, and she straightened her back as if making a decision. She marched to his side and put her hand on his arm. Despite the determination in her stiff spine, the touch was light, insubstantial, directly disproportionate to her temperate. It was almost as if a butterfly accompanied him to dinner.
Shaking his head at the fanciful thought, he led her from the room.
Chapter Three
Here she was, being escorted to dinner by the master as if she were a guest in this house. How silly! She should have refused his arm. But Emma had seen Mrs. Jennings peering into the room a moment before the cook had scurried back to her work overseeing the serving. The smile on Mrs. Jennings’s broad face said she was delighted beyond measure to see Emma with Sir Nicholas. Emma simply couldn’t bring herself to discourage the kind woman.
So she walked beside him through the salon with its tall alabaster columns holding up the soaring ceiling, and down the black-and-white marble tiles of the central corridor. Sir Nicholas looked almost presentable in his evening black, a silver-shot waistcoat peeking out from his tailored coat. So he knew how to dress for Society. He simply chose to avoid Society as he avoided his daughter.
“Mrs. Dunworthy tells me I have inconvenienced you,” he said as they headed for the dining room at the front of the house.
And why should he care if he had? That was his right as her employer. “Nonsense,” she said. “I’m very glad you wanted Alice with you tonight. Thank you.”
A crease formed between his midnight brows, as if he wasn’t sure why she was thanking him for paying attention to his child. “And how is Alice getting on here?” he asked.
“Fine,” she assured him as they reached the door of the dining room. “Though it is a little quiet, when you aren’t catching things on fire.”
He chuckled, and the warm sound sent gooseflesh skittering across her arms.
Oh, no! She was not about to be charmed by this man. She would put her reaction down to the wonder of dining in such style. And wonder was entirely warranted.
The Grange dining room was as large as the withdrawing room, with an elegant white marble fireplace on one pale green wall and three windows looking down the valley on the opposite wall. A cloth-draped table that could likely seat thirty ran down the center, with four places set at one end in fine china, sparkling crystal and gleaming silver. Candles in silver sconces glowed along the walls; lilies in a jade urn adorned the table. She’d never seen anything like it.
Mrs. Dunworthy was already seated to the left of the head, with Alice on the right. Sir Nicholas escorted Emma to the seat next to her charge and then went to take his place at the top. As he sat, his sister-in-law gazed at him expectantly, and he frowned a moment before bowing his head and asking the blessing. It seemed he was so rusty at being in Society he’d forgotten how to say grace!
A portion of the wall in one corner swung open from the warming room, and Dorcus and Ivy in caps and aprons carried in porcelain platters of dressed lamb and trout with mushrooms, followed by macaroni in a creamy cheese sauce and asparagus. Emma tried to ignore her host and focus on Alice, selecting small portions and plainer foods from the abundance offered. Alice alternated between squirming in her chair over every new experience and staring about her with wide eyes.
“And how are you this evening, Alice?” her father asked after all had been served and the maids had withdrawn.
Emma relaxed a little. If he spent the meal talking with his daughter, everything would be fine. She glanced at Alice, who was examining her trout as if she expected it to start swimming about the table.
“Lady Chamomile is very unhappy,” she told the fish.
Emma frowned. She’d figured out her first day at the Grange that the doll’s feelings generally mirrored Alice’s. What was causing her charge concern?
Sir Nicholas frowned, as well. “I hadn’t realized you’d visited our neighbors. Which estate is Lady Chamomile’s?”
Emma bit back a laugh. So, he didn’t know about the doll. She was fairly certain Alice wouldn’t explain. In fact, the girl was returning his frown as if giving the matter great thought. Emma couldn’t help herself.
“I believe Lady Chamomile owns a castle,” she offered, hiding her smile with a dab of her napkin.
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