“She dropped the coal scuttle when she was making up my fire yesterday morning. It shocked the life of out of me. I thought the ceiling had collapsed.” Gideon stabbed a piece of toast with his knife under the pretense of buttering it. He was a devil for saying it, given it was partly his fault she’d dropped that coal scuttle, but it was the only excuse he could think of fordismissing her.
Haslemere stared at him. “That’swhy you dismissed her? Well, I daresay she looked far too fetching with coal dust smudged on her pert little nose. Very right and proper, Darlington.”
Gideon snapped off a bite of toast with his teeth, wincing as the dry crumbs lodged in his throat. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t simply tell Haslemere he’d dismissed Cecilia because she’d entered Cassandra’s bedchamber. Haslemere would understandthat, but for reasons he couldn’t explain even to himself, he held his tongue.
“I don’t deny she’s pretty, Darlington, but she also happens to be an accomplished nursemaid, from what I hear. Mrs. Briggs and Amy are in raptures over her management of Isabella. It isn’t fair to them for you to dismiss her. Theyneed the help.”
Gideon set his uneaten toast carefully on his plate, fighting off a pang of guilt. “How is it, Haslemere, you always know so much about what’s happening in my house?”
“Ah, now there’s a question. I’ll leave you to answer it for yourself, but if you won’t take my word for it, then ask your housekeeper her opinion on the matter. Mrs. Briggs and Amy say Cecilia has a waywith children.”
Gideon huffed. Of course she did, because it was too much to ask Cecilia to be impatient and short-tempered with Isabella, and thus easily dispensed with. It would have been a damn sight simpler that way, but no, she had to be pleasant and cheerful and win everyone over after a single day here.
“According to Mrs. Briggs, she’s just what one wishes for in a nursemaid.” Haslemere dropped another lump of sugar into his teacup, studying Gideon as he stirred. “She has the patience of a saint, and a sincere affectionfor Isabella.”
Gideon pushed his plate away, his appetite deserting him. Nothing was more important to him than Isabella’s well-being. If Cecilia made his niece happy, what was left to say?
“You still haven’t found a replacement for the last nursemaid, I take it? The thief—what was her name again? Mrs. Vermin, wasn’t it?”
“It was Vernon, not—”
“I shudder to think what sort of woman you’ll have to settle for if you dismiss Cecilia.” Haslemere let out adramatic sigh.
Gideon shuddered to think what could happen if hedidn’tdismiss her. He grimaced at the memory of the incident last night, of the horror on Cecilia’s face, the way she’d frozen with terror whenhe grabbed her.
But even that paled in comparison to the tension between them in his study afterward. He’dtouchedher. He hadn’t meant to, but even now he could recall with perfect clarity the feel of her smooth skin under his fingertips. There was no telling what might happen next, or how he’d react to it. Darlington Castle simply wasn’t a safe place for an unpredictable young woman like Cecilia Gilchrist.
Hewasn’t safe—
“You’ll end up with the worst of the lot. Worse than Mrs. Vermin, even, and she was a wretched old thing.” Haslemere’s tone was dark. “You could settle for Amy, but the girl’s as jumpy as a cat with Isabella. Have you tried the scullery maid? Perhaps she’d make a suitable nurse.”
Gideon rolled his eyes. “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”
Haslemere’s spoon landed in his saucer with a clatter. “If you’re determined to dismiss Cecilia, at least you should send a footman to attend her to the stagecoach, Darlington. It’s the proper, gentlemanly thing to do.”
Gideon pushed his chair back from the table, a sigh on his lips. He’d spent a good deal of time staring out his study window after Cecilia left last night, cringing as he replayed the events of the evening in his mind. A gentleman didn’t manhandle a lady, no matter the circumstances. He’d behaved like a blackguard, and it didn’t sitwell with him.
He owed Cecilia an apology. Not for dismissing her—she’d more than earned that—but for grabbing her as he’d done last night. “She’s meant to leave this morning.” Gideon retrieved his watch from his coat pocket and glanced down at it, frowning. Cecilia seemed to have no notion how to follow an order. “I told her to be downstairs by eight o’clock. It seems I’ll have to fetch her myself.”
He took a last gulp of his tea and rose from the table, but before he could move Haslemere jumped up, nearly toppling his chair behind him. “Perhaps it would be better if I speak to her. If you makea mess of it—”
“It’s all right, Haslemere. I promise you I’ll be a perfect gentleman.” A grim smile twitched at Gideon’s lips. Occasionally he could still manage to behave in a manner that befitted a marquess. “Sit down and finish your breakfast.”
Gideon made his way from the dining parlor to the entrance hall. There was no sign of Cecilia, but Amy was on her hands and knees at the bottom of the stairs scrubbing the floors, a bucket by her side. “Goodmorning, Amy.”
Amy looked up at the sound of his voice. “Good morning, my lord,” she replied, politely enough, but Gideon didn’t miss the sour twist to her lips.
Here was one member of his household who wasn’t pleased about Cecilia’s dismissal. Amy looked as if she was one second away from tossing her cleaning rag in his face. “Did you happen to see Ceciliathis morning?”
“Yes, my lord.” Amy’s voice was chilly. “She ran upstairs to bid Lady Isabella goodbye.”
“Thank you.” Gideon moved toward the stairs, giving Amy and her bucket a wide berth, aware she was glowering at his backas he passed.
He climbed the stairs and strode down the hallway to his bedchamber, but once he got to the connecting door he paused with his hand on the latch. There was a strange sound coming from Isabella’s room. That is, not strange, but not a sound that had been heard much at Darlington Castle these past twelvemonths or more.
Isabella waslaughing. Not the muted laugh of an anxious child who’d seen too much loss in her young life, but the carefree, joyful laugh of a child who, if even for only this brief moment, was happy in the way a child should be.
Entirely, unabashedly happy.
