Taking a deep breath, he wiped his eyes and gazed toward the window. He had to get ahold of his emotions. Soon. He couldn’t allow another moment to pass by without holding his beautiful twins and telling them how much their father loved them.
One way or another, he’d make up for the time he’d spent away from them.
*
Playing outside withthe children had worn them out. And worn Louisa out as well.
She escorted the twins toward the house, keeping an eye on the very door Trevor had walked through not more than a half hour ago. He hadn’t returned, and her heart ached with worry. What could she have possibly done to anger him this time?
Both Adam and Amanda held her hand as they entered the house. Louisa listened carefully for Trevor’s voice, but the closer they strolled to the stairs and she couldn’t hear his baritone voice, the lower her hopes sank.
Mrs. Smythe bustled out from one of the rooms, smiling wide as her gaze moved from Louisa to the twins. “Oh, what a lovely picture you make standing together holding hands.” She stroked her palm across each of the two-year-olds’ heads, making them giggle. “And you, Miss Louisa, I do believe you have found something you are good at.”
Chuckling, Louisa nodded. “Indeed, I have. I love caring for these children.”
“And it shows.” Mrs. Smythe winked, then turned to leave.
“Mrs. Smythe, could I have a moment with you after I put the children down for their nap?”
“Of course, my dear. I shall wait a half hour then come to the nursery.”
“I would very much appreciate it.” Louisa led the children up the stairs and toward their room, still on the lookout for Trevor—but not seeing him.
Once inside, she helped Amanda off with her dress. The little sweetheart kept yawning, her eyes drooping with fatigue.
“Miss Weesa?”
Louisa grinned at the way the girl said her name. “Yes, my dear.”
“You stay fur-evow?”
“For-ever?” Louisa pronounced slower for Amanda. “I certainly hope so. It is my wish, and I pray your father allows me to stay.”
She gave the darling girl a hug and tucked her into bed. When she turned to do the same for Adam, he’d fallen asleep on his bed—still clothed. Smiling, Louisa gently removed his shoes and covered him with a blanket before settling herself in the rocking chair between the two beds.
The smile remained on her face for a few minutes as she pondered how wonderful she’d felt since taking on this new responsibility. Indeed, she loved caring for the twins. Her memory hadn’t given her any more flashbacks, but she received the feeling that she hadn’t been married and had her own family. At least she hoped that was true. Nonetheless, she felt as if she had wanted children of her own, and being the twins’ nurse would certainly fill a void in her life.
The creaking of the floor outside the nursery door alerted Louisa of a visitor. The door cracked open and Mrs. Smythe peeked her head inside. Quietly, Louisa left the rocking chair and stepped outside the room, softly closing the door behind her.
“I thank you for meeting with me, Mrs. Smythe.” Louisa motioned to the next room—which was hers—before moving inthat direction. “Shall we meet in here for a moment? I want our conversation to be private.”
“Of course, my dear.” The older woman nodded and followed.
As Louisa closed the door behind them, she took a deep breath for courage. What she was about to ask might not be right, but she just had to know.
She turned, faced the housekeeper, and smiled. “Something happened not too long ago with his lordship, and left me quite confused.”
As she explained what happened with the children, the housekeeper’s happy expression changed. Gradually, worried lines appeared in the older woman’s forehead, around her eyes, and especially around her frown.
“So you can see,” Louisa continued, “why I’m worried I did—or said—something wrong.” She shook her head. “He looked so confused, and amazed at the same time when I pointed out the similarities between him and the twins. Then to leave like that without any explanation.” She heaved a breath. “You can probably imagine my worry since I have made so many mistakes since His Grace has taken me in.”
Mrs. Smythe’s frown deepened as she shook her head. “Oh, that poor man.”
“Please,” Louisa placed her hand on the other woman’s arm. “I must know—for my own state of mind.”
“I really should not say. His lordship does not condone gossip.”
“This isn’t gossip, Mrs. Smythe. Not if it is what you know, and not if it will affect my ability to care for those adorable children.”
