Listening from doorways was beyond the pale and yet, he could not bring himself to disturb the scene. Fee snuggled in the nursemaid’s lap, and, though her legs dangled almost all the way to the floor, the blanket-creased cheek resting against the nursemaid’s shoulder made her look younger than her years.
In much the same way Fee was held by the nursemaid, she cradled his first gift—the doll he’d taken from a prince of a former Bavarian electorate, a doll too exquisitely made to relinquish to a trash heap once Hurtheven removed the incriminating letters hidden within.
He'd known Fee would be enchanted with the doll. Clearly, he’d been correct. But her happiness wasn’t the cause of his inertia. The reason he’d melted into stillness was the obvious tenderness between nursemaid and child.
A tenderness so palpable, he ached.
Fee had, indeed, taken to Mrs. Montrose completely. And, in this moment, the woman gently humming as she stroked the hair of the unpredictable hurricane that was his godchild, did not appear to be a villain. Nor could he assign her melancholy, pensive expression nefarious intent.
Was the nursemaid completely alone in the world?
Could she be in want of protection, not excoriation?
A tight, almost ticklish sensation closed his throat.
Fee fluffed the doll’s apron. “I love her.”
“I can see that,” Mrs. Montrose murmured.
“She’s pretty,” Fee continued, “but her clothes are strange.”
“You mustn’t think the way we dress in England is theonlyway...”
Fee snorted in disbelief.
“...Her manner of dress may be strange to you but is common where she is from.”
“Whereisshe from?”
Mrs. Montrose hesitated. “The duke, I believe, has just returned from Austria.”
“Notthe duke. Uncle Heven.”
Mrs. Montrose made a sound between a sigh and a groan. “I’m afraid UncleHevenwould not approve of my using your name for him.”
“He would,” Fee replied with confidence. “IfIask him.”
“No, thank you, Lady Felicia. It would not be appropriate?—”
“If he says so, yes, it would be a....ah...”
“Ah-pro-pree-aite.”
Fee repeated the word in an accent sharp as cut crystal.
“Very good.” Mrs. Montrose smiled. “It means proper. And there are rules of propriety even your “Uncle” cannot break.”
“Yes, he can!” Fee insisted. “Uncle Heven can break any rule he wishes. Only sometimes it’s better if no one finds out.”
Mrs. Montroseharrumphed. “Didhetell you so?”
“Yes,” Fee confidently replied.
“I’m not surprised,” Mrs. Montrose said under her breath.
Hurtheven winced. From the nursemaid’s tone, he gathered she not only rightly disapproved, but she also held him in contempt...which was to be expected, he supposed. That conversation with Feehadbeen somewhat unwise. And he’d treated the nursemaid as an adversary from the start.
But was she?
