The Proposal (4 page)

Almost as an afterthought, he remembered to look at the other bed. Dark curls surrounded an adorable face that was as peacefully asleep as her brothers’. Looking at her, Jennings had to admit that she was indeed a very pretty little girl, but he hadn’t the slightest idea what to do with her. As he turned to exit the room, the realization came that he didn’t have to do anything with her. She could live with him until it was time for her to come out, and then he would marry her to some suitable man.

In a complete state of naïveté Jennings exited the room, wondering how long he would have to wait before he began working with the boys.

It didn’t take too many days for the children to find a routine. Life at home had become topsy-turvy after their father’s death, and much as they missed him, it was a comfort to find themselves in a routine that seemed to fit who they were. They breakfasted together, played in the garden, lunched together, spent time reading from Jennings’ remarkable library or the daily news, had dinner, and were always ready for bed at an early hour. This routine didn’t start to show signs of upset until their eighth day in the house.

Jennings joined them for breakfast, and as soon as they finished, he asked the boys to go horseback riding in the park.

“You boys do ride?”

“Yes, sir, we do, but I’m not sure if we should leave Penny on her own.”

Once again Jennings had lost track of the little girl. At the moment she was sitting quietly, finishing her toast. She gave no indication of having heard any of the conversation.

“Why don’t you go, Thomas,” James suggested. “I’ll stay with Penny.”

Thomas looked down at him. He knew that James loved to ride as much as he did. He thought it most kind of him to offer.

“Are you certain, James?”

“Yes. Maybe I can go next time.”

Jennings was very impressed by the grown-up way they handled this, but it was not what he wanted. He wanted both boys to accompany him because he wanted to examine the boys’ horse-management skills at one time, but he carefully kept this thought to himself.

“Well, then,” Jennings said quietly, “in about an hour, Thomas?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be ready.”

As Jennings went on his way, Thomas glanced at his siblings to see if they had caught any underlying current of displeasure, but they both acted as though all was normal. And by the time Thomas was astride a fine mount and headed toward the park with Jennings, he thought all was normal too. His cousin was a well-educated man and interested in most everything. With tremendous courtesy he told Thomas where they were, explaining the history of some homes and buildings and generally directing the conversation in a most congenial way.

James and Penny came to mind several times, and Thomas wondered if his concern for them was needless. There had been nothing in the house to indicate that any of them were in danger, but never before had he felt such a weight of responsibility. He knew his father would not wish him to shoulder more than his rightful share, but he felt his father’s loss keenly and was most committed to doing as his father would have wished.

Thomas snapped out of his thoughts in time to see an open coach passing. The women inside seemed rather intent on Jennings. Both turned to watch him as the coach moved along. Thomas looked to that man to see if he acknowledged them and found that the older Jennings did not seem to notice their attention.

Questions about how old he was, if he’d ever married, and what his place in London might be suddenly popped into Thomas’ mind, but Jennings chose that moment to tell Thomas about the various schools in the area. Thomas would never have been so rude as to voice any of his musings, but the change in subject put them completely from his mind. Penny and James, however, lingered. Thomas was enjoying his ride, but he couldn’t help but wonder what his brother and sister were up to.

“Look at this flower!” Penny said as she ran to James in the garden.

“Penny!” her brother gasped. “You can’t pick them!”

“I didn’t. It was on the ground.”

“Oh.” This stopped James for a moment. “Maybe you should put it back where you found it.”

Penny didn’t argue, and as soon as she turned, James went back to his book. Reading was becoming more comfortable now, and this was his own volume, a gift from his father, one he felt free to bring out of doors.

“James!” Penny suddenly cried in very real distress. The ten-year-old rushed to find her caught on a rosebush. He was reaching to help her when she jerked and tore the fabric of her dress. Penny was frightened that the tear might put her in very real trouble, and tears were not long in coming.

Mr Collins came on the scene almost immediately, but even so the children did not realize how closely the staff was keeping an eye on them.

“Is there a problem, Mr James?”

James was relieved to have Mr Collins on the scene, but Penny hung her head in embarrassment.

“Penny has torn her dress.”

“Shall I look?” Mr Collins’ voice was extremely solicitous, but Penny was still ashamed.

“I think Cook might be able to help us with this, Miss Penny. Shall we go ask her?”

Penny nodded, barely holding a fresh rush of tears.

“Very good,” Mr Collins said as he led off down the path. “I think there might even be cookies fresh from the oven.”

The children followed quietly, James feeling half sorry for his sister and half irritated that she was crying about torn clothing. The smell of the kitchen, however, soon swept away all negative thoughts. Spices and vanilla assailed his nose even before the door was opened, and James’ small mouth began to water.

“What’s this?” Cook asked, always looking a bit sterner than she was. Having just handed a warm cookie to each child, she stood looking down at Penny. “Oh, it’s nothing but a tiny tear. We’ll have Megan mending that in no time. Here, both of you take another one of these cookies and don’t cry anymore.”

“Thank you,” Penny said, following James’ lead and not feeling quite so sorry for herself.

Megan, the head housekeeper, worked all over the house. Unlike Cook, she was rail thin, and the children had never seen her idle. She could be seen in any room of the large home and at all times of the day, giving orders to the other housemaids and taking notes on a paper pad she carried in her apron pocket.

“What have we here?” she asked as she bent to see the small tear. She straightened and smiled down at Penny. “I can mend that for you. I’ll just find my sewing box and a length of sheeting.”

Not until Penny was swathed in the sheet did she realize Megan’s intention. Modest in the white covering, Penny watched as Megan drew forth needle and thread. Cook pulled a chair close so the little girl could sit down, and after James joined her, she gave them glasses of milk.

“What did you catch your dress on, Miss Penny?” Megan asked, intending to soothe the worried lines she saw on Penny’s small forehead.

“On a rosebush.”

“They can be tricky,” Megan said with compassion.

And that was only the beginning. With Cook, Megan, and even Mr Collins working together, the children were made to feel quite at ease, and the dress was repaired without fuss or bother.

“Lunch is in two hours,” Cook told them when Penny was finally back in her clothing, ribbons tied and in place. “But don’t forget to stop for cookies this afternoon.”

“Thank you,” James said in a very grown-up manner to the adults who had helped them and been so kind. “Come along, Penny,” he said quietly to his sister as he led her away. “I think we should play in our room for a time.”

Jennings was growing weary. Thomas’ company was not overly taxing; indeed, the lad had a soothing way about him, but he’d not had much sleep the night before, and after leading the conversation for the better part of two hours, he felt a little worn.

That was when he spotted her, or rather them. Five women in dark clothing, pushing prams or with children at their sides. Jennings stared at the nannies in the park as though he had never seen the like.

Why such a solution had never occurred to him he did not know, but he realized quite suddenly that his problems with Penny were over. He would hire a nanny. He and his sister had had one for years, and they’d gotten along just fine.

“Shall we head back?” Jennings suggested, seeing no need to mention his thoughts to his young charge. He was a man used to suiting his own needs and being in charge of his own destiny. Asked about it, he would have said it was the Jennings’ way.

“Certainly, sir. I thank you for inviting me.”

“Not at all, Thomas. We’ll have to come again soon.”

It was on Thomas’ mind to ask if James could go the next time, but he didn’t wish to appear presumptuous. It occurred to him for the first time what an awkward feeling it was to be a guest. He wasn’t at home, and he wasn’t visiting. Until Jennings took it upon himself to boot them to the curb, London was where they would stay, but would it ever feel like home? The question nagged Thomas all the way back to Aydon, the grand home on Rumney Street.

“Did you find it?” Penny asked, looking very excited as James walked around their bedroom.

“Not yet,” James replied, lying to spare her. At times he was harsh with his sister, even knowing how wrong it was, but not now, not since their father died. In the past he would not have hesitated to tell her that her hiding place was ridiculous, but not this time. He had spotted the marble she hid some three minutes past but continued to look for it in an effort to entertain her.

“Am I close?” he tried, having to avert his eyes or see the shiny, dark sphere near the fireplace.

“Very close!” Penny said, all but dancing in excitement.

“Found it!” James cried, managing to sound surprised.

“Will you hide it for me, James? I want to look.”

James remembered to keep it easy. He stood for a time, not hiding the marble or moving, just missing his father and Thomas.

“Is it time?” came Penny’s muffled voice; she was hiding her face against the bed.

“Almost,” he said and forced himself to hide the marble.

It took Penny a while to locate it, and that was fine with James. He had wandered to the windows that overlooked the street and watched a man walk past. With marble in hand, Penny joined her brother at the window.