In Good Company (11 page)

“He won’t appreciate me lecturing him, Abigail.”

“Perhaps not, but as you’ve stated before, working with children is a calling for you. Because of that, I would imagine God expects you to intervene with Everett and convince him to change his neglectful ways.”

“Everett probably doesn’t have the least idea he’s being negligent. Why, having worked in society all these years, I’ve yet to find society parents who spend much time with their children, because distance is all the rage and has been for years.”

Abigail lifted her chin. “Distance is a mistake I made with my daughter, and I will not watch Everett make that same mistake. But, since he’s evidently still a bit put out with me over what I now believe was an ill-timed matchmaking attempt, you’re going to have to act in my stead.”

“Maybe you should just tell Everett you’ve learned your lesson
regarding the whole matchmaking business, which will allow you to get back in his good graces.”

“Thaddeus,” Abigail continued, completely ignoring Millie’s suggestion, “is in desperate need of male companionship. He would enjoy having Everett sit down to lunch with him. That would allow Everett the opportunity of getting to know the boy better, as well as the girls, which just might put an end to Miss Dixon’s ridiculous idea of sending the children off to boarding school.”

“How did you know about the boarding school plan since I have yet to mention it to you, having only heard about it yesterday?”

“Elizabeth told me. She’s very upset with the idea, and who can blame her?”

Millie blew out a breath. “Fine, I’ll go see about getting Everett to join us for lunch, but I’m not promising I’ll be successful.”

“You won’t know until you try, dear.” Abigail reached up and smoothed a hand over Millie’s hair. “You might want to consider fixing this mess on top of your head before you do anything though. It’s looking a tad frightening at the moment.” With a last pat to Millie’s cheek, Abigail smiled and hurried away.

Left alone on the deck, Millie allowed herself the luxury of taking a moment to gather her thoughts. Lifting her face to the sky, she sent up a small prayer asking for guidance as well as a good dose of patience since she was about to go off and deal with Everett. She then straightened her spine and headed into the yacht. Walking down the narrow passageway, she peered into one room after the next, impressed in spite of herself by how well turned out the yacht was. It was equipped with everything one would find in an actual house, complete with walls painted in a soft shade of cream paired with matching furniture—although that furniture had been bolted to the
floor. Poking her head through yet another doorway, she stilled when she caught sight of Everett. He was sitting behind a desk, reading what appeared to be a . . . novel.

Irritation was immediate. Taking a step into the room, she stopped, crossed her arms over her chest, and waited for him to notice her.

Unfortunately, the wait turned into a rather long one.

“You’ll be pleased to learn that these fancy cork jackets really do a remarkable job of keeping a person afloat,” she heard spill out of her mouth after a full minute had passed.

Everett, annoyingly enough, kept reading, but then his head snapped up and he narrowed his eyes on her. “I do beg your pardon, Millie, I was completely engrossed in my book, but . . . what did you just say? Something about keeping a person afloat?”

“I said these jackets are remarkably effective.” She twirled around to show off the jacket she was wearing.

Everett shot out of the chair before she could finish her twirling. “Where are the children?” he demanded as he rushed for the door, scowling down at her when she, seemingly unable to help herself, moved to block his way.

“They’re languishing, which means
lingering
, in the ocean, having a most marvelous time of it, I might add.”

Everett actually picked her up and set her aside right before he froze. “Elizabeth was right, Miss Longfellow. You really are a lunatic.”

“And you,
Mr. Mulberry
, are rapidly turning out to be a rather unlikeable sort,” Millie shot back. “Do you honestly believe if the children had gone overboard that I’d waste time seeking out your assistance instead of jumping into the ocean after them?”

“You don’t know how to swim.”

“Which is why I’m wearing this jacket, and which is also why, because you know I can’t swim, you should have stayed topside with the children instead of burying yourself in here with what appears to be some type of novel.” She peered over at the desk, but couldn’t make out what he was reading. “Did you forget the children’s fascination with walking the plank?”

“They were considering walking a plank?”

“Don’t be silly,” Millie said with a sniff. “After what happened the last time they tried that game, I do think their interest in that has dimmed simultaneously.”

Everett’s brows drew together. “
Simultaneously
?”

Fumbling with the cork jacket, Millie stuck her hand in a pocket and retrieved her dictionary. Flipping through the pages, she glanced over different words. “Ah, here we go. I think
significantly
might have been what I meant to say.” She lifted her head and refused to sigh when she realized Everett was now scowling her way.

“Why would you bring up the whole plank business when you knew the children had abandoned their interest in it?” he asked.

“You annoyed me.”

“The amount of money I’m currently paying you to nanny the children should hold any and all annoyance you may think you feel for me at bay.”

“Even if you paid me twice what you are, I’d still get annoyed with you on a frequent basis.”

“I’m
not
paying you additional funds to keep your annoyance in check.”

“I don’t remember
asking
you to,” Millie said as Everett stalked back to his desk and then pointed to a chair that was bolted to the floor opposite him.

“Mr. Mulberry, you don’t believe that’s an acceptable way of asking me to take a seat, do you?”

A stabbing of a finger to the chair once more was his only reply.

Taking a second to fasten herself back into the cork jacket, even as an odd and somewhat inappropriate sense of amusement settled over her, Millie walked over to the indicated chair and took a seat. Placing her hands demurely in her lap, she watched as Everett lowered into his own chair.

Thrusting a hand through hair that was distinctly untidy, he caught her eye. “Was there a reason behind your interrupting my reading?”

“I’m sure there was, but that reason escapes me at the moment.” She sat forward. “What are you reading?”

Everett’s face turned a little red as he snatched the book off the desk and stuffed it into a drawer.

Millie leaned back in the chair. “Very well, since you don’t seem to want to exchange the expected pleasantries, let us move on to what I’ve suddenly recalled I wanted to speak with you about. We need to discuss the children and the part you need to play in their lives, as well as discuss how you’re going to go about telling Miss Dixon it would be a horrible idea for you to send the children away to a boarding school.”

Opening the drawer, Everett yanked out the book he’d just stashed away, and pushed it Millie’s way. “I think I’d rather discuss this.”

Picking up the book, she looked at the title. “You’re reading
Pride and Prejudice
?”

“I am, but don’t tell anyone. It could ruin my reputation as a manly gentleman.”

The amusement that was still bubbling through her increased. “I doubt that, but tell me, what do you think about the story so far?”

“I think it’s unfortunate that Lizzy is not better connected,
because she would be perfect for Mr. Darcy if she came from money.”

Millie shoved the book back at him as every ounce of amusement disappeared in a flash. “You don’t believe that Mr. Darcy might be just a tad too prideful since he believes he’s superior to Lizzy?”

“He’s one of the richest men in England,” Everett said, returning the book to the drawer and giving it a somewhat longing look before he caught Millie’s eye. “Of course he’s superior to Lizzy.”

Fighting the impulse to tell him he was a bit of an idiot, because that was a guaranteed way of getting dismissed, Millie forced a smile. “Perhaps it would be best to continue this discussion
after
you finish the book. But, tell me, why in the world are you reading a romance novel?”

“I needed something to keep me occupied while evading Abigail and her meddling ways, and since you spoke so highly of Jane Austen, I thought I’d give her a try.”

“You’re reading it because I enjoy Jane Austen?”

“Well, yes. You also mentioned you enjoy
Frankenstein
, but I couldn’t find a copy of that in my library, so I decided I’d read a book of Jane’s instead.”

Pleasure shot through her, until she remembered that she really didn’t like Everett at the moment, especially considering his completely mistaken opinion about
Pride and Prejudice
.

“And speaking of Abigail, where is your chaperone?” Everett asked.

“Did I neglect to tell you that she’s changed her mind about that?”

“She’s come to her senses, has she?”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far, but she has decided to stay at her own cottage in Newport, and . . . I’m hopeful she’ll abandon
all attempts at matchmaking in regard to the two of us, especially since we were so vocal with our opposition to the idea.”

A discreet knock on the doorframe interrupted whatever Everett had been about to say. Turning her head, Millie found Mr. Andrews, the steward, pushing a cart covered with silver domes into the room. He stopped the cart directly beside a small table, and after nodding at Everett, he turned his attention to Millie and sent her a charming smile.

“Mrs. Hart was concerned your meal would get cold, Miss Longfellow, which is why she suggested I deliver it to you, along with a meal for Mr. Mulberry.” He whipped off silver lids, placed china plates on the table, added glasses of lemonade, and then pulled out a chair and resumed smiling at Millie.

“I thought I told Abigail I was going to join her and the children directly,” Millie said as she rose to her feet and moved a step Mr. Andrews’ way.

If anything, Mr. Andrews’ smile widened. “The children turned out to be ravenous, Miss Longfellow, which is why Mrs. Hart allowed them to begin eating without you. Since they seem quite capable of demolishing a meal at a very rapid rate of speed, she told me to tell you that the children will probably be finished with their meal before you’ll be able to join them. She also wanted me to mention that there’s no reason for you to hurry with your own lunch, since she’s planning on teaching the children a new card game.” His smile dimmed just a touch. “And begging your pardon for this—although it comes directly from Mrs. Hart, not me—she believes that the children will not appreciate your company as they’re playing cards.”

“They’re probably afraid Millie will decide to do something dastardly to them, such as bilk them out of their allowances, or . . .”

“Honestly, how you do go on, especially since I don’t gamble,”
Millie interrupted before she returned her attention to Mr. Andrews, who was still holding out the chair for her. Before she had an opportunity to take even a single step forward, Everett was right by her side, taking her by the arm. As he prodded her toward the table, he arched a brow at Mr. Andrews, who immediately stepped aside.

“That’ll be all, Mr. Andrews,” Everett said as he helped Millie take her seat.

Mr. Andrews considered Everett for the briefest of seconds before he nodded. “Very good, sir.” He sent Millie a last smile, took hold of the cart, pushed it across the room and straight out the door, leaving that door open in the process.

“I’m surprised Mr. Andrews didn’t stay and offer us his chaperoning services, and . . . surprised Abigail seems to have changed tactics, sending in a gentleman who is obviously smitten with you,” Everett said as he took his seat.

Millie snapped her napkin open and placed it on her lap. “Mr. Andrews, while being a very nice man, is hardly smitten with me. Not that it would be any of your business if he was. And, as for Abigail . . . Well, I have nothing to say about that, other than to remind you I am in no way romantically inclined toward any gentleman at the moment, whether he be a steward or . . . you.”

Picking up her fork, Millie stabbed a potato, placed it in her mouth, and ignored the fact Everett had taken to watching her with a grumpy expression as she went about the daunting business of trying to enjoy her lunch.

“Why did you really seek me out?” Everett finally asked after Millie had made it through the potatoes and had moved on to the peas.

Abandoning the peas, Millie lifted her head. “I was going to ask you to join everyone for lunch, although, just so we’re
clear, the invitation was Abigail’s idea, not mine, so don’t get any notions about me trying out my feminine wiles on you.”

Everett choked on the sip of lemonade he’d been taking. Setting down his glass, he coughed a few more times, then turned now watering eyes on Millie. “It never entered my head that you would take to turning your, er,
feminine wiles
on me.”

“Wonderful, and since we’ve gotten that out of the way, let us return to the subject of the children. You need to spend more time with them.”

“If you haven’t noticed, the children don’t care for me. I highly doubt they want to spend additional time in my company.”

“That’s because they don’t know you, and Thaddeus would especially benefit from spending time in your company, even with all your character flaws.”

Everett’s lips actually began to curl at the corners. “While I do believe you just extended me a rather odd compliment, I fear I’m destined to disappoint you, because I won’t have much time this summer to give Thaddeus, or the girls, for that matter.” Everett rose to his feet, walked to his desk, picked up a sheaf of papers, then moved back to the table and retook his seat. He handed the papers over to her. “That’s the summer schedule Caroline’s made for me.”