Chapter Eight
Jenny left thechildren with Mary, who had become the full-time nursery maid. Mary was sensible and efficient, and Jenny was confident they would be well cared for in her absence. She spent the next hour with Nanny, helping her pack her trunk before she left for London. Nanny was to live in one of the Duke’s townhouses. “You’ll be able to meet your old friends, the nannies you talked to in Regent’s Park when you took the baby for an airing.”
Nanny tucked a shawl into the trunk. “Few would still be in service, at my age those I knew are likely below ground. When a children’s nurse is no longer useful, they’re usually sent away to their relatives. If they’re lucky enough to have any to take them in.”
Overcome with compassion, Jenny slipped her arm around Nanny’s thin shoulders. “I do hope you will be content there, Nanny, and not miss us too much.”
“You are a dear girl.” Nanny patted Jenny’s cheek. The affectionate display surprised Jenny, for Nanny, although always kindhearted, was usually reserved and formal in her manner. “I am most fortunate, Miss Harrismith. I shall have my pension and a nice place in which to live. His Grace is a true gentleman. I should know,” her eyes softened. “He was high spirited, but always a good boy. And so is William.”
She drew her handkerchief out of her pocket and blew her nose. Tucking it away again, she glanced around the room. “There, I am ready. I shan’t worry about the children because they have you.”
“The children will write regularly and tell you how they go on.” Jenny kissed Nanny’s papery cheek as two footmen entered to tie the cord around her trunk, then escort her down to the waiting carriage.
A moment later, a maid bustled in, her arms full of Jenny’s clothes. “I’ll bring the rest of your things down shortly, Miss Harrismith.”
“Thank you, Alice.” Jenny looked around the room. Her new bedchamber was roomier and more comfortable than the attic room, with a larger wardrobe, although her few clothes wouldn’t fill it. The window had the same view of the southern aspect of the house as the nursery and the schoolroom. She looked down over the water feature to the trees in the park and the loop of carriageway. Down below on the carriage drive, the coach stood waiting. His Grace bent to kiss Nanny’s cheek then helped her inside. The footman closed the door, put up the steps, and the coach drew away.
Jenny watched until the duke disappeared from view. Then she spun around. What thrilled her most was that the nursery was right next door, and the children were entirely in her care, at least until the nurse arrived. She metaphorically rolled up her sleeves. There were changes to be made. Nanny, for all her wisdom, was a trifle old-fashioned.
While Jenny took her allotted time off she sent the children with Mary to the schoolroom where William could read or draw. Barbara was learning to cross-stitch. Jenny loved to walk. Back in York she would tramp for miles over the dales, but with only an hour to spare, she could not venture far.
The gardens slumbered beneath the autumn sun, but the sharp breeze held the promise of winter. The smell of freshly scythed grass scented the air. Jenny picked a white lily that had been left hanging on its broken stalk. She would put it in water in her bedchamber. Flowers always made a room feel cheerier. She crossed the lawns to inspect the yews the gardeners had pruned into neat shapes.
“Good afternoon, Miss Harrismith. Are you contemplating nature?” Herr Von Bremen stood before her, smiling in that slightly whimsical manner, as if he found everything secretly amusing. She hadn’t heard him come up behind her, his footsteps muffled by the dense grass.
“I was admiring the gardeners’ workmanship.” She wished he would go away. “The Castlebridge gardens are truly magnificent.”
“Not a patch on those in Germany.”
“It’s almost winter, you are not viewing them at their best,” she said, suffering an urge to defend the place that was now her home. “Those azaleas will be a bank of bright color in spring.” She gestured to the shrubs beneath the library windows.
When she turned back, Von Bremen had moved closer. He reached out a finger to touch the brooch on her chest. “That piece of jewelry is most unusual.”
Jenny stepped back, her hand covering the brooch. “The clasp is loose. The cameo was my mother’s.”
He tilted his head. “And she is gone, yes?”
“Yes, some years ago.”
Suddenly, the library window behind her was thrown open. Jenny looked into the duke’s frowning countenance. “May I have a word, Ivo?”
Something indecipherable flickered in Herr Von Bremen’s eyes. “Certainly, Your Grace.” He bowed his head. “We shall talk again soon, yes?” He nodded to her and walked away.
The duke remained at the window. “Why the lily, Miss Harrismith?”
Jenny jumped. She dropped the flower as if scalded. Did he object to her picking just one flower? “I thought it pretty.”
“Baroness Elsenberg wishes to meet the children. Would you bring them to the yellow salon at four o’clock?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The window shut. With a flick of the curtains he disappeared. Dismayed, Jenny made her way back to the schoolroom, her pleasant promenade of the gardens spoiled. The duke appeared to be annoyed. Did he think she was flirting with Herr Von Bremen? She flushed and bit her lip. For him to think poorly of her was the last thing she wanted.
*
“You wished tosee me, Your Grace?” Ivo entered the library and sauntered over to Andrew where he stood before the fire, a book of his favorite poems in his hand.
Andrew eyed him and snapped the volume shut. Even the arrogant way the man walked irritated him. “Please sit, Ivo. Care for a Cognac?”
