In Good Company (5 page)

“What a charming picture all of you make,” he said, stepping farther into the room as Caroline set aside her cup of tea and smiled at him.

“Everett, I was hoping you’d return soon.” Caroline craned her neck right before her smile slid off her face. “But . . . where’s the new nanny?”

“I’m afraid I wasn’t successful with that tonight, dear, but don’t fret. I’ll go back to the employment agency in the morning.” He smiled at Elizabeth who was peering at him over the top of her book. “What’s that you’re reading, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth Burkhart scrunched up her nose, and for a moment, he didn’t think she was going to respond, but then she held up the book. “
Little Women
.”

“That’s a bit of a depressing tale, because if I’m not much mistaken, one of the sisters dies, doesn’t she?”

Elizabeth snapped the book shut. “I guess there’s no need for me to finish reading it now.”

Everett winced. “Ah, yes, quite right—sorry about that.” He looked back to Caroline. “Everything go well while I was away?”

“Everything’s been fine,” Caroline said as she nodded to the twins. “We’ve come to an understanding.”

Alarm coursed through him. “What kind of an understanding?”

Caroline waved a hand in the air. “I just went over a few of my expectations for them. Once I explained some of the punishments they might face if they continue on with the mayhem—such as no meals, no frogs, and no fun—well . . . they understand my position. I don’t believe we’ll be seeing any more trouble. Will we, children?” Caroline arched a dainty brow at the twins.

“No,” Thaddeus and Rosetta said together.

“No . . . what?” Caroline asked pleasantly.

For a second, pure mutiny flashed from both the twins’ eyes, but then Rosetta smiled. “No more trouble, Miss Dixon.”

“Exactly right.” Caroline looked back to Everett. “Now then, returning to the nanny situation. What happened?”

“Mrs. Patterson doesn’t have anyone available at the moment. Well, not anyone suitable for our needs.”

“So there
was
at least someone?”

“Not really.”

Caroline picked up her tea and took a sip. “I will be beyond disappointed if we have to delay our trip to Newport again, Everett, especially since I’ve already missed numerous social events. I, along with Miss Niesen, have plans to play tennis at the Casino two days from now with our friends. I will be sorely put out if I have to give up my match because you can’t find help to watch over the children.”

Rubbing a hand over his face, Everett took a step closer to her. “You and Miss Niesen should go to Newport without me,
which is what I suggested to you two weeks ago, when nanny number twelve left my employ. You do have your own cottage after all, given to you by your very indulgent grandmother, and it seems a shame that said cottage is still standing vacant at the moment, except for your staff, of course.”

Caroline let out a sniff. “Society would not look kindly on me if I were to abandon you in your time of need.” She lifted her chin. “But, I’m going to admit here and now that I’m beginning to get extremely annoyed with you. If there is a woman out there available to work, whether she’s suitable for the position or not, I’m going to have to insist you offer her a position—tonight.”

Everett opened his mouth to argue, but before he could utter a single word, Caroline set aside her cup and began rising from her chair, stopping suddenly as she sucked in a sharp breath of air. A mere second later, Everett discovered what was behind her peculiar behavior.

The chair was now firmly attached to Caroline’s behind, sticking out at a very awkward angle. One glance to the twins—both of whom were looking far too innocent—proved who was responsible for the latest disaster.

A second later, there was an ominous ripping sound, and to his relief, Caroline was no longer attached to the chair, but when she turned around, he discovered that she was also no longer attached to the back of her skirt. As her shrieks of outrage began bouncing around the room, Everett realized what he was going to have to do.

He was, much against his better judgment, going to have to seek out Miss Longfellow and beg her—on bended knee and with flowers, no doubt—to come work for him.

3

W
ith bubbles tickling her nose, Millie leaned her head back against the rim of the clawfoot tub, appreciating the luxury of taking an honest-to-goodness bubble bath. Before Abigail Hart had come barreling into Millie’s life almost two months before, along with the lives of her friends, Miss Harriet Peabody and Miss Lucetta Plum, she’d never had the opportunity to slide into a tub filled with bubbles. There could be no denying that there were many luxuries available to her now that she’d accepted Abigail’s offer of a permanent place to live when she wasn’t working, but Millie certainly didn’t take any of them for granted.

The reasoning behind Abigail welcoming her into her home was still a bit of a mystery. Abigail claimed she’d done so because she owed Reverend Thomas Gilmore a favor, but Millie didn’t think that was the only reason behind the woman’s extreme generosity. Abigail, from what little Millie had learned about the lady, seemed to have numerous regrets from her past. Those regrets, more than any favors owed, were most likely
what had prompted Abigail to take three young ladies out of the tenement slums and see them settled in Washington Square.

While Millie was incredibly grateful for the generosity offered her, she couldn’t help feeling just a smidgen of wariness about her current situation, especially because Abigail seemed to have a distinct propensity for . . . plotting. Abigail’s last plot had revolved around getting Miss Harriet Peabody and Mr. Oliver Addleshaw well settled. Since Abigail had met with great success in that endeavor, Millie was quickly coming to the conclusion that the dear woman was now in search of fresh prey. Which meant—

“Ah, wonderful, I was hoping to find you in the tub,” Abigail said, strolling right into the very midst of the bathing chamber. Moving over to a dainty chair gilded in gold, she took her seat, glancing around the room. “Do you like the improvements I had done while you were off with that horrible Cutling woman?”

Sinking ever so slowly down into the bubbles, Millie managed to summon up a smile. “Everything is delightful. Although I’m not really sure why you had so many chairs brought in here.”

“I needed to make certain I’d have a place to sit.”

Millie’s smile disappeared in a flash. “I know I still have much to learn about etiquette and the peculiar ways of people with wealth, Abigail, but I don’t recall working for a society family who liked to congregate for conversation in the bathing chamber.”

“We in society share the bathing chamber quite often, my dear. Why, most society ladies your age have their own personal maids, and those maids are responsible for helping their young ladies bathe, as well as helping them into their clothing numerous times per day.”

“Well, yes, I did know that, but I don’t believe those maids
pull up a chair and settle in for a long duration during bath time.”

“Which is a most excellent point, but I’ll have you know that when my daughter was growing up, she and I shared the most interesting conversations when she was in her bath.”

“Because she wasn’t able to escape while she was bathing?”

“Exactly.” Abigail settled back in the chair. “Now then, tell me, are you quite certain you don’t want me to have a little chat with Mrs. Cutling?”

“While I appreciate the offer, Abigail, I don’t think that’s necessary. I really just want to put that unfortunate incident behind me and move on with my life.”

“How lovely, and do know that I’m more than happy to assist you with that moving on with your life business. In fact, I insist on lending you my invaluable advice.”

Not caring at all for the distinct note of glee in Abigail’s voice, Millie dunked under the bubbles, hoping that if she stayed there long enough, Abigail just might forget the direction the conversation seemed to be heading. When she started getting a little dizzy from lack of air, she resurfaced and discovered that while she’d been depriving herself of oxygen, another person had entered the room—that person being none other than her very good friend Miss Lucetta Plum.

“Lucetta, what a wonderful surprise.”

Miss Lucetta Plum, acclaimed actress and beauty of the New York theater scene, grinned. “I don’t know why you’d be surprised to see me since I do live here. However, seeing you is certainly a surprise. What happened?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

“Oh . . . dear, you were let go again, weren’t you. But . . . honestly, Millie, being employed for only a week has to be a new record for you.”

“It’s not,” Millie admitted. “If you’ll recall, due to that unpleasant situation with the goats, I only lasted a day when I went to work for Mrs. Wilson a few years back.” She shuddered, stirring the bubbles. “How could I have possibly known those particular goats had a fondness for violets? I certainly wouldn’t have dabbed violet water on my wrists that morning if I’d known it was going to send the goats into a frenzy. But, goat incidents aside, yes, I did get dismissed once again today, and no, I don’t feel like talking about it. Let’s talk about you and how rehearsals are going for your latest play.”

Turning on a lovely high-heeled shoe, Lucetta moved to sit in a chair right beside Abigail, gesturing around the room with a wave of a gloved hand. “This is nice and cozy, Abigail. What an interesting idea to add furniture in the bathing chamber.”

“She’s only done so because she wants to be able to hold us captive as we bathe,” Millie pointed out.

Lucetta stopped gesturing. “I should tell you that I prefer to bathe with no one in the room, Abigail—not even a maid. That means
I
certainly won’t need furniture in the bathing room you’re redecorating for me.”

“That’s too bad, since I’ve already ordered some.” Abigail folded her hands in her lap. “But new furniture aside, why are you home early tonight?”

Lucetta pushed a strand of golden hair out of her face. “The new electric lights the owner of the theater had installed began to smoke. I decided it wouldn’t be in my best interest to linger, so . . . I returned here to enjoy the rest of my evening with you.”

Abigail gave a sad shake of her head. “Life in the theater does seem to be filled with unexpected hazards, dear. Which is why you really should, as I’ve suggested a time or two, reconsider your chosen profession.”

“I adore being an actress.”

“Hmm . . . I’m not certain I completely believe that, dear, but . . . you do have a steady income at the moment, whereas Millie does not . . .”

Abigail settled her attention squarely on Millie again. “Because you’ve been very vocal regarding your desire to work, and I don’t know of any families who need a nanny at this particular time, I think the only option available to us is to introduce you to my grandson. He’s a bit of a recluse, but I’m sure he can be convinced to take you on.”

“Take me on?” Millie repeated slowly.

“Indeed, but I’m not certain in what capacity we should ask him to do that taking on just yet.”

“He doesn’t have children?” Millie pressed.

“Not a one, but I have to imagine, with a little persuasion on my part, he’d be downright delighted to offer you some type of position. . . . Perhaps as a social secretary or keeper of his extensive library.”

“Don’t you think his wife might have a slight problem with her husband hiring on a young lady with no social secretary skills or any ability to keep a library?”

“He’s not married, dear.”

Millie’s mouth dropped open. “Really, Abigail, one would think you’d be a little more subtle, but if I must remind you, I’m not in the market for a husband.”

“Every unattached lady, whether they admit it or not, is in the market for a husband, my dear. However . . .” Abigail turned to Lucetta. “I actually believe you’d be a more appropriate match for my grandson, who goes by the very charming name of . . . Bram.”

Lucetta’s mouth gaped open, much like Millie’s had done only seconds before. “I am definitely not in the market for a husband, especially a recluse. Why, that particular word immediately
brings to mind an image of a curmudgeon, one sporting some type of horrible disfigurement, that disfigurement the reasoning behind the whole reclusive business.”

“Bram isn’t disfigured,” Abigail argued. “In fact, he’s quite a dish, from what young ladies have told me.”

Lucetta lifted her chin. “Dish or not, you will leave me out of your matchmaking plans.”

“And I second what Lucetta just said, although I’m curious now as to what
curmudgeon
means. Because I’m in my bath, though—something both of you seem to have forgotten—I don’t have a dictionary handy.”

“
Curmudgeon
means grouchy, but you’re exactly right, Millie.” Lucetta rose to her feet. “We’ve been very rude, keeping you from enjoying your bath, so Abigail and I will repair to the library and leave you in peace.”

“But we haven’t yet settled on a plan as to what to do with Millie.” Abigail rose from her chair, although she looked extremely disappointed to do so.