“Stitching and watercolors. Also, learning to sing and play the pianoforte.”
“Tell me, Mrs. Crabtree,” Dimity made the surname sound like an insult, “why did you apply for this position if you do not believe a woman, or in this case, child, should be educated?”
His cousin was an earl, the eldest of the four Deville brothers. Noble, intelligent, and one of the best men Forrest knew. A man who was born knowing one day he would hold the title he now did. His wife, however, had led a different life. When Forrest first met her, she’d been a piano teacher.
“There are many types of education.” Mrs. Crabtree raised her chin. “A girl should know her place when she lives with men such as Lord Raine and Mr. Howarth. She must know how to behave with deference and humility. To be seen but not heard. She must be schooled in what is expected of her when she weds. Nothing else is necessary.”
“But what of fun?” Forrest asked politely.
“Fun,” Mrs. Crabtree said, as if the word meant the opposite of what it actually did. “A child can play for a small allotted time each day, but only then. I—”
“I’ll stop you there.” Dimity raised a hand.
Forrest watched Gabe place a hand over the one Dimity had clenched on the desk.
“That will be all, Mrs. Crabtree. I’m afraid you are not suitable for this position,” Gabe said, rising. He then opened the door and ushered the woman through it before Dimity could launch a verbal attack on her.
Forrest slumped back in his chair.
“I see now why you asked Gabe and me to help you in finding a tutor for Ella,” Dimity said. “Have all the applicants sent to you by the Eddison Agency been like that one?”
“Most of them.”
“The others?”
“Were worse.”
Dimity exhaled. “Well, we will not give up. There will be someone out there.”
The Countess of Raine was a woman who knew her mind. Strong-willed and beautiful with her porcelain skin and thick black hair, she was Gabe’s equal in every way. Born to French aristocracy, she was smuggled out of France during the revolution. It was only when she met Gabe her past was uncovered.
Today she wore pale peach, the dress cut in simple lines to flare out over her stomach, but on her looked anything but. She was a friend to Forrest and someone his daughter loved.
“Am I wrong to want this for my daughter, Dimity? Perhaps I should just teach her.”
“You are not, and I wish more fathers were like you, Forrest. And no, you cannot teach her, or you would end up doing exactly as she wished all day.”
“True. She does seem to get me to do her bidding.”
“And her uncles. It is just Freya, Beth, and I that limit her intake to one peppermint stick instead of four.”
He snorted. His daughter was a delight, but she lived in a world where everyone adored her. That had not always been the case; however, he hoped she never remembered the last year they’d spent in India.
“There is one more,” Gabe said, returning. His face was grim. “One hopes she is a great deal better than Mrs. Crabtree.”
He walked around the desk, dropped a kiss on his wife’s head, and sat.
“What, no kiss for me?”
Gabe pressed a kiss to his cheek and patted the top of Forrest’s head.
“I have told Fairfax to bring the next applicant. After that, we are going to have a large brandy and eat something extremely sweet. I feel a desperate need of both,” Gabe said.
Large, aristocratic, he and his brothers were all strong men who knew their place in the world. When Forrest had arrived on their doorstep, exhausted and clutching his daughter, his cousins had stepped in without hesitation to become the family they needed.
Forrest looked down at the papers before him on the desk.
“Her name is Miss Ruby Knight, and she is twenty-six years of age. The first reference states she worked for a Reverend Dipworth and his wife. They had four children. It states she was trustworthy, diligent, and the children were extremely sad to see her leave when she moved to London. She was with them for three years.”
