Heaven Sent (8 page)

He’d hoped a nice nanny would assume
the role of facilitator between father and daughter. But, dash it
all, Becky’s’ nanny wasn’t supposed to have been Callie Prophet.
Becky’s nanny was supposed to have been a kindhearted, elderly lady
with gray hair, false teeth, and a hearing trumpet.

Aubrey sighed as he shrugged into his
jacket, straightened his cravat, and headed for the dining room. He
felt rather as he imagined a convicted murderer might as he trudged
to the gallows.

Miss Prophet and Becky were waiting
for him in the sitting room leading into the dining room. He forced
himself to smile at the two of them, although his smile for Becky
was much easier than the one he drummed up for Miss
Prophet.

She, damn her impudence, gazed with
serene complacency at him and smiled as if she hadn’t a care in the
world, Becky, rather tentatively, Aubrey thought, said, “G-good
evening, Papa. Mrs. Granger fixed chicken and dumplings for us
tonight.”

“
Ah,” said Aubrey as he
tugged one of her braids, “your favorite, I believe.”

The tension seemed to vanish from
Becky’s small body, and she grinned like the imp she could be—or
used to be, when her mother was alive. “Oh, yes! I love chicken and
dumplings. I asked Mrs. Granger to fix it special, for Miss
Prophet.”

Aubrey glanced at Callie.
“Indeed.”

Callie said, “Indeed. Good evening,
Mr. Lockhart.”

“
Good evening.”

If the world were a just place,
thought Aubrey, Miss Callida Prophet would be an ugly, bucktoothed,
weak-chinned, gangly specimen of womanhood, and well past her
prime. As he’d been made aware of long ago, however, the world was
far from just, and she wasn’t any of those things.

In reality, Callie Prophet was a
lovely young woman—well, to look at, he silently amended. Her
personality was another matter. If, Aubrey brooded unhappily, one
were merely to look at her, one might judge her to be a cheerful
girl with a friendly personality to match her bright eyes and
gleaming blond hair.

Oh, but life could be a cruel deceiver
sometimes, as Aubrey well knew. He had railed at God more than once
for the many unkindnesses He had visited upon him. And
Becky.

Dash it, there he went again,
forgetting about his daughter, and the struggles she had gone
through as well. After holding a chair for Callie, Aubrey did the
same for Becky, and tipped her a wink at the same time. She goggled
up at him, and he had to fight a frown. Good God, was the poor
child so unused to her father’s jolly side that she perceived his
wink as something rare and unseemly?

Well, and why shouldn’t she? he
instantly thought. He’d been mooning around the house like a lost
soul for a year and more.

Hell’s bells. As Aubrey sat at the
head of the table gazing at his beautiful daughter, he was swamped
with a sudden sense of hopelessness. He wanted so badly to reach
out to her, to heal the damage he had inflicted upon her tender
psyche, but he had no idea where, let alone how. to start. Aubrey
sighed inwardly as another thought hit him, Although it pained him
to admit it, he was honestly glad that he hadn’t dismissed Miss
Prophet when she’d lectured him. If he had, he’d have made Becky
even more unhappy than she already was, and that would have been
ghastly,

“
Would you like me to say
grace, Papa?”

His daughter’s trilling voice dragged
Aubrey out of the pit of despair he’d managed to get stuck in. He
glanced at her and forced another smile, “That would be very good
of you, Becky.”

It touched his heart when his little
daughter obediently folded her hands, bowed her head, and said in
her sweet, piping voice, “Thank you, God, for our chicken and
dumplings. And thank you for sending Miss Prophet to live with us.
God bless Mama in heaven, and Papa, and Miss Prophet. And Mrs.
Granger,” she added in something of a rush, leading Aubrey to
understand she’d only just then realized she ought to bless the
lady who’d cooked the food. “And thank you, God, for letting the
Pilgrims come to America. Amen.”

The first thing Aubrey noticed when he
opened his eyes was the smile on Miss Prophet’s face. He wished he
hadn’t. Her smile was lovely. Wrenching his gaze away from her, he
said to Becky, “That was a very nice blessing, Becky. Thank
you.”

He’d suffered a slight pang when she’d
mentioned the. Pilgrims, recalling his temper fit earlier in the
day. He’d been wrong to shout at Becky and Miss Prophet, although
he’d sooner beat his head against a brick wall than apologize to
Callie Prophet.

Callie seemed unfazed when she said,
“Yes, Becky, that was a very nice prayer. It’s good of you to
remember our founding fathers, too.”

Becky, who was seated across from Miss
Prophet at the large and imposing dining table, gazed at her with
interest.

“
What’s that?”

“
What’s what?” Callie asked.
“Oh, You mean our founding fathers?”

The little girl nodded. Aubrey noticed
how her blond braids caught the lamplight when they bounced, She
was the image of Anne, God bless her. God, being the cruel fellow
He was, had better not take Becky from Aubrey. That would be too
cruel, even for Him.

He hadn’t been paying attention to
Callie’s answer to Becky’s question in regard to the founding
fathers, His mind swerved to the present again, however, when he
heard Becky ask, “But why don’t they talk about our founding
mothers, Miss Prophet? Didn’t the ladies come, too, along with the
gentlemen?”

There went Miss Prophet’s smile again.
And her green eyes did twinkle quite charmingly. Aubrey wished he
hadn’t noticed. Fortunately for him, Delilah, the maid who served
the meals, ladled out a plate of soup, forcing him to drag his gaze
from Callie.

“
The ladies came, too,
Becky, but the people who write history books generally tend to
ignore women’s contributions to progress, no matter which country’s
history they’re recording.”

“
How come?”

“
That,” said Miss Prophet,
smiling brightly at Delilah as she served soup before her, “is one
of the mysteries of life.”

“
Thank you, Delilah,” Becky
said perkily as her own soup appeared in front of her. She picked
up her spoon and took a sip before she spoke again.

“
This is delicious soup,”
Callie murmured.

“
It’s real good,” agreed
Becky. “Mrs. Granger’s a good cook.” She set her spoon carefully on
her plate. “You know what I’m going to do when I grow up, Miss
Prophet?”

“
No, I don’t believe we’ve
discussed that yet,” said Callie, with her beautiful smile and her
twinkly eyes. “Do you have plans?”

After spooning up another sip, Becky
nodded. “I’m gonna write a history book about the
ladies.”

“
What a brilliant idea!”
Callie beamed at the little girl.

Aubrey glanced from one young lady to
the other, feeling left out, as if Becky didn’t need him anymore
now that she had Callie.

He cleared his throat, drawing their
attention to him, and then he felt embarrassed. “I think,” he said
in a judicious voice, “that’s a very good idea, Becky.”

Becky grinned, pleased. “You
do?”

She sounded surprised, which made
Aubrey want to frown Dash it, the girl acted as if she were afraid
of him, and at was nonsensical. He’d never done anything to foster
fear in his child. He’d always loved her. Always. In fact, now that
Anne was gone, Becky was the most important person in his life. If
he’d been a little distant these past few months, it was only
because of circumstances.

He caught Callie eyeing him ironically
and disliked her for it. A lot.

*****

As Callie helped Becky dress for bed,
she congratulated herself on surviving her first day on the job. It
had been truly hellish at times, although Becky was a darling.
Callie think she’d ever want to leave Becky.

Becky’s father, however, was another
matter entirely. She was still amazed that he hadn’t fired her
earlier that afternoon when she’d confronted him about his
bellowing fit.

As she folded back the bedclothes and
Becky climbed into her pretty four-poster bed with its
pink-and-white tester and counterpane, Callie said, “Would you like
me to hear your prayers sweetheart?”

“
Yes, please. Mama used to
hear my prayers every night before bed.” Becky sighed
deeply.

“
Did she?” Callie sighed,
too, remembering how her own mother had done the same for her,
“Does your papa ever come up to hear them?”

Becky shrugged. “Sometimes. But most
of the time, it’s Mrs. Granger who comes upstairs with me.” A sad
look passed over Becky’s face only to be replaced seconds later
with a glowing smile. “But now that you’re here, you can do
it.”

“
I’m very happy to be here,
Becky, and I promise to hear your prayers whenever you want me
to.”

“
I’m happy you’re here,
too.” She wiggled into a more comfortable position on her soft
pillows.

Good. That made two happy and one
grouchy household inhabitant. Callie imagined she’d get along well
with the rest of the staff. Most of them lived in Santa Angelica
and she’d known them for years. She wished there was some way to
get through to Aubrey.

With a small pang of guilt, she
wondered if she’d been wise to confront him so boldly this
afternoon. Once one confronted a man without mincing one’s words,
it generally took the rest of one’s life to get him to climb down
from his high horse.

On the other hand, Callie had
perceived no other course of action. She couldn’t, in good
conscience, have allowed the incident to pass by unremarked upon.
If she’d used subtlety, she knew good and well he’d have either
ignored her or pretended not to understand. Therefore, she guessed
she’d done the best thing for Becky, and that was what mattered.
He’d probably hate her forever, but that couldn’t be helped. She
didn’t know why her heart ached a little at the notion of Aubrey
Lockhart hating her, but it did.

“
Miss Prophet?”

“
Yes, Becky?” Callie scolded
herself for letting her mind wander.

The little girl hesitated, then said,
“Do you think Papa likes me?”

“
Oh, Becky!” Callie scooped
Becky into her arms and hugged her hard. “Of course, he likes you!
He loves you. Very much.”

Becky hugged her back without speaking
for a moment.

Callie, for perhaps the hundredth time
that day, felt like crying. She settled Becky back on her pillows
and stroked her cheek. “Darling Becky, your papa has suffered a
lot, just as you have, because your mama got sick and died. I think
it’s taking him some time to adjust to not having her
around.”

“
He used to laugh a lot,”
Becky admitted. “He doesn’t laugh anymore. I guess it’s ‘cause he’s
not adjusting.”

“
Well,” Callie said in a
bracing voice, “we’ll just have to help him learn to laugh
again.”

“
How?”

Children could ask the most awkward
questions sometimes. Callie admitted softly, “I’m not sure. We’ll
have to put on our thinking caps and try to find some way to make
him laugh. All right?”

Becky smiled up at her. “All
right.”

“
Let’s hear those prayers
now, young lady.”

So Becky said her prayers, which
included a lot of blessings for the grown-ups in her life, and
Callie listened with a tear in her eye and an ache in her
heart.

*****

Callie Prophet had been living in the
Lockhart mansion for a week, and Aubrey needed to get some work
done. He could neither understand nor justify his compulsion to
stand at his library window and watch Becky and Miss Prophet
frolicking on the back lawn.

Although it was only midmorning, Miss
Prophet had lugged out a big wicker picnic basket and set it under
a tree. She and Becky were ignoring the basket at the moment, and
were playing some. kind of game that included a lot of running
around and shouting.

His thoughts retreated into the past,
and he recalled watching Anne and Becky together. Anne had been
much more decorous than the rollicking Miss Prophet, but she and
Becky had loved playing together. Evidently Miss Prophet didn’t
know the meaning of the word quiet.

Torn between amusement and irritation,
Aubrey pushed the window up in order to hear better. The joyful
sounds of laughter smote his ears. Becky had picked up a big stick
and held it thrust out before her with her hands horizontal to the
ground.

“
They call me Little John,”
she roared, making her voice go as low as she could, which wasn’t
very.

“
Little John? But you’re
enormous!” Callie propped her hands on her hips and adopted a
swaggering pose. “Let me pass, you varlet.”

Becky giggled. “Make me.”

“
All right for you, then I
shall!”

With feigned menace, Callie strode
toward Becky, who stood her ground fiercely and waggled her stick
at Callie.