In Good Company (16 page)

Flipping open the clasp, she smiled when her books came immediately into view. Pulling out her Bible, two Jane Austen books, a dictionary, several works by Shakespeare, and last, but not least, her thesaurus, her relief turned to annoyance when she realized all of the clothing she’d packed seemed to be missing. Sticking her hand back in the bag, she felt nothing but empty space. Gone were the skirts, blouses, sensible undergarments, stockings, and even her aprons, along with her spare pair of comfortable shoes.

Withdrawing her hand, she stalked over to the trunks, disbelief flowing through her when she opened the first one and discovered day dresses that would be perfect if she happened to be invited to a fancy tea.

The next trunk held hats and shoes, the third, beautiful
dinner dresses, and the fourth . . . Millie actually shuddered when she’d pulled out a wispy piece of silk that was nothing less than a ball gown.

“Honestly, this time she’s gone too far,” Millie muttered, tossing the ball gown over a straight-back chair. “When I get my hands on her I’ll—”

“Forgive me for interrupting, Miss Longfellow, but I do feel I should point out that issuing threats against the person responsible for those trunks, a person I’m assuming might be Mrs. Hart, could possibly see you dismissed from your position. Believe me when I say none of us here at Seaview want to see that happen.”

Looking up, Millie found Ann standing in the doorway. “Believe
me
when I say the last thing Mrs. Hart would let happen would be my dismissal from this position, given her liking for plots. But . . . never mind about that.” She tilted her head. “May I hope you’re here to tell me you’ve met with some success in regard to Elizabeth and her bad temper?”

“She won’t let us in her room,” Thaddeus said, darting around Ann with Rose by his side. “She sent us to find you because she says she won’t come out until you go and talk to her.”

Rose’s little lip started trembling. “I think she’s . . . crying.”

Those words had Millie heading out of the room and striding down the hallway. She came to a stop in front of the door Mrs. O’Connor had told her led to Elizabeth’s room. To her relief, she heard not a single sound of crying coming from Elizabeth’s room. Moving a step closer, she noticed that the door had been left open a few inches, and found herself wondering if Elizabeth had done that on purpose so that Millie would know she’d be welcome. Deciding the only way she’d discover exactly what Elizabeth was thinking was to actually go speak with the girl, Millie took a step forward and pushed open the
door, regretting the decision almost immediately when water suddenly poured over her.

Tilting her chin, she immediately regretted that as well when a wash basin, obviously the one that had recently held all the water, dropped on her head, the weight and surprise of it sending her crashing to the ground.

“You killed the nanny, Elizabeth,” Thaddeus wailed. “We’re going to be in terrible trouble now.”

Millie heard the sound of little feet pounding away and realized the children were fleeing, no doubt because they
were
only children and probably did think she was truly dead. Trying to summon up her voice to tell them she was very much alive, she found herself incapable of speech so simply stayed on the floor, counting the stars that were still swirling beneath her eyelids.

“Good heavens, Miss Longfellow, are you all right?” Ann asked as she knelt down beside Millie. “I cannot believe Elizabeth resorted to such a prank. Why, she really could have killed you.”

“On my word, what happened?”

Forcing her eyes open, Millie discovered Mr. Macon, Everett’s butler, peering down at her.

“I’m fine, or at least not dead,” she managed to say.

Mr. Macon smiled. “Of course you’re not dead, and thank goodness for that, Miss Longfellow. You must realize that everyone on staff is in full agreement that you, my dear, are our last hope.” He knelt down beside her, opposite Ann. “Do you think you can sit up?”

“Give me another minute.”

“I’ll go track down the children,” Mrs. O’Connor said, peering down over Mr. Macon’s shoulder to catch Millie’s eye. “They need to take responsibility for this.”

“Thaddeus and Rose have done nothing wrong, Mrs.
O’Connor. They just panicked, and if I were to hazard a guess, Elizabeth probably didn’t realize what the consequences would be from her little bout of mischief.”

“Surely you’re not going to let her get away with what she did without some type of punishment, are you?” Mrs. O’Connor asked slowly.

Rubbing her head, Millie nodded to Mr. Macon, who helped her into a sitting position. “I’m not a big believer in the usual methods of punishment, such as spanking or withholding food, Mrs. O’Connor. Although, given what just happened, it’s clear I have to come up with something spectacular to teach Elizabeth, along with Thaddeus and Rose since they have caused quite a bit of mayhem the last few months, a lesson they’ll not soon forget.” She rubbed her head again before she smiled. “If anyone is willing to help me—and I do believe I’m going to need quite a few people to help me set up what I have in mind—I’d greatly appreciate the assistance. And I need a place where no one will mind if it gets a little . . . messy.”

Stepping off a ladder twenty minutes later, Millie looked up and surveyed her handiwork, pleased with how her plan was taking shape. She nodded to Mr. Macon and Mrs. O’Connor, who nodded back before they exited what they’d called the mud room by walking out a door that led to the backyard.

This particular spot was absolutely perfect for what Millie had in mind. The floor was made of stone, there was relatively little furniture in the room, save a couple of chairs, and there were numerous sinks that were certainly going to come in handy, especially since there was little question that a huge mess was about to happen. Smiling her thanks to a footman who was carting the ladder out of the room, Millie took a seat
on a chair that was placed exactly right. Plopping an ice pack on the lump on her head, she watched the door as she waited for the children to arrive.

It turned into an extremely long wait.

Shifting in the chair, she was just about to get up and see if anyone had located the children, when she heard Mrs. O’Connor speaking in a very loud voice as she marched what were surely three reluctant children down the hallway.

“And you didn’t kill Miss Longfellow, Elizabeth, but it was a near miss, so the very least you owe her is a heartfelt apology.”

“I didn’t know that basin would fall on her head,” Elizabeth said with a distinct quiver in her voice.

“Buckets placed over doors do tend to fall when the doors open, Elizabeth,” Mrs. O’Connor returned. “Which is why I expect you to tell Miss Longfellow how sorry you are, and assure her you’ll never, as in ever, play that particular trick on anyone again.”

Anticipation had Millie’s nerves jangling as the children and Mrs. O’Connor drew closer.

“I’m going to allow the three of you to speak with Miss Longfellow alone. Come and stand together, and . . . in you go.”

The doorknob turned, the door began to open, and if Millie wasn’t much mistaken, Mrs. O’Connor pushed the children forward in an obvious attempt at making certain Millie’s idea would go off as planned. Giving a nod to two footmen by the names of Will Davis and Henry Johnson, she watched as they yanked on the ropes they’d been instructed to hold, ropes that were attached to large buckets used to water the horses, but buckets that were now hanging from the ceiling.

Shrieks were immediate as cold water thoroughly soaked the children, but then the shrieks were cut off as flour, placed in sheets clear up by the ceiling and controlled by another piece of
handy rope, dumped over their soaking wet bodies. It covered them from head to toe and rapidly began turning to . . . paste.

Dropping her ice pack, Millie rose to feet, unable to help but laugh when three pairs of outraged eyes blinked her way. She swallowed another laugh, but suddenly found herself devoid of all amusement when a lady dressed from head to toe in the latest fashions breezed into the room. That lady was immediately followed by a gentleman who looked remarkably similar to Everett, although older.

“Mr. and Mrs. Mulberry,” Mrs. O’Connor said in a horrified voice as she trailed after the newcomers. “What in the world are you doing here?”

Mrs. Mulberry didn’t bother to answer. Instead, she looked the children up and down, looked around the room, which was rapidly becoming coated with flour, then turned green eyes that were blazing with heat on Millie.

“Who are you?” Mrs. Mulberry demanded.

“I’m, ah, well . . . the nanny.”

Mrs. Mulberry lifted her chin. “That, my dear, is no longer the case, since you may now consider yourself dismissed. Effective . . . immediately.”

8

I
cannot believe you refused Caroline’s request of dismissing the nanny.”

Pulling his attention away from the many buggies that were slowly traveling down Bellevue Avenue, filled with
the
fashionable set of Newport out and about on their daily afternoon jaunt, Everett settled it on Dudley. That gentleman was sitting on the carriage seat opposite him, having offered Everett a ride home after Caroline had refused to allow him to set so much as a single toe in her carriage after
he’d
refused to let Millie go.

“I don’t believe Caroline presented me with a request. It was a demand, and one I wasn’t comfortable granting,” Everett finally said.

“Your nanny succeeded in embarrassing Caroline in front of everyone at the Casino. That in and of itself should have had you agreeing to Miss Longfellow’s termination.”

“If Caroline suffered undue embarrassment, she has no one to blame but herself. She
is
the one who badgered Millie into playing tennis against her.”

One of Dudley’s brows shot up. “It’s hardly appropriate for
you to call your nanny by her given name, no matter that I’ve heard rumors she’s friends with Miss Harriet Peabody. Miss Peabody might now be engaged to Oliver Addleshaw, and you might be very good friends with Oliver, but that does not make it acceptable for you to address your nanny so familiarly. It does a disservice to your position within society.”

Something unpleasant unfurled in Everett’s stomach. It had not escaped his notice that all of his friends, with the exception of Nora Niesen, had been a little too anxious in their desire to watch Millie take the court. Everett knew full well that anxiousness had stemmed from everyone wanting to see Millie fail. But when she hadn’t failed, had actually risen to the occasion magnificently, the anxiousness his friends had been displaying turned to antagonism, and an undeserved antagonism at that.

His friends had been cruel in their pursuit of amusement and that—

“While I normally don’t enjoy pointing out the faults of my friends,” Dudley was saying, pulling Everett abruptly out of his thoughts, “you’re behaving like a complete idiot.”

“And your reasoning behind that would be . . . ?”

Dudley raked a hand through thinning brown hair. “You have been fortunate enough to obtain the affections of the most desirable lady in society, yet you hardly treat Caroline in the manner she deserves.”

“Quite frankly, I’m not exactly certain I’ve obtained her affections, especially since she’s been less than pleasant to me of late.”

“She’s been less than pleasant to you because you haven’t been showing her the proper amount of attention.”

“I find it somewhat interesting that you feel qualified to give me advice since you have yet to settle your affections on a particular lady.”

Dudley shoved his hand through his hair again, leaned forward, and pinned Everett under a rather intense gaze. “I was never going to mention this to you, believing there was no point in allowing you access to this somewhat delicate information, but . . . you stole away the only lady I ever
wanted
to settle my affections on.”

Time ceased to move as Everett simply sat there, his thoughts becoming more muddled the longer he considered Dudley’s words. “I never had the faintest inkling you held Caroline in high esteem,” was all he seemed capable of mustering up in response.