“Lady Jillian is needing some quiet time to recover. She sent us straightway. We didn’t stop none, so we might have beat your brother-in-law’s letter.”
“You know you and the girls are always welcome, Hannah.” Mary turned to the footman. “Bring their things to the nursery.” Then she stood and swooped little Opal into her arms. “Come girls, your grandmother will be so pleased to see you again.”
“I’m hungry,” Claire said. “Can we eat here?”
“Yes, dearest,” Mary said, reaching for the chubby hand of the dark-haired, always hungry three-year-old. It had been nearly two months since she’d seen the girls, and she was surprised how even baby Opal remembered her. “We shall find Grandmother and the food. Come along.”
Pearl opened the door for them, right as Mary’s mother swooped down the staircase toward them. She hugged the girls one by one and then ushered them towards the nursery, with Hannah chasing after them.
“Mrs. Grange,” her mother said in a hushed tone to the housekeeper, “see they are brought up some lunch.”
“Yes, your ladyship.” Mrs. Grange said, sharing the countess’s worried frown.
“What is it, Mama?” Mary asked. “You expected the children, didn’t you?”
“Your sister would never have sent them.” Mother brought her hands to her lips. “Jack must have. I fear Jillian is not doing well.”
A knock sounded on the door, and Pearl opened it long enough to receive a letter from a messenger.
“Could this be from her?” Mary asked.
Mother took the missive and quickly opened it. Her eyes darted back and forth as she read down to the end.
“It’s from Jack. Jillian is not well. He says not to worry yet, but he will send word if she worsens.” Mother clutched her dress at her chest. “I can’t lose her too.”
Mary’s heart thudded with her own panic. “Don’t be silly, Mama,” Mary said, reigning in her emotions for her mother’s sake. “Jack would have asked you to come if he was at all worried.”
“I’m not so sure. Jack does not have the intuition of a mother.”
Mary tucked her arm through her mother’s. “Perhaps not, but he is intelligent if nothing else. He sent the children to us to allow Jillian to rest. A quiet house is the recipe to her recovery, not unfounded worry.” Mary would still worry, but she did not want her mother to.
“How very smart,” Blake said from behind her.
Mary looked back and saw Anton and Blake coming in from Anton’s study.
“We heard children’s voices,” Anton said. “What news is there of Jillian?”
“Just that her recovery is taking longer than we hoped.”
Anton put his arm around his mother, and Blake went and stood beside Mary.
“How can I be of assistance?” Blake asked, his voice oddly serious for such an usually carefree man.
Mary almost rolled her eyes. “Are you going to offer to go sit with my sister?”
Blake fluffed his hair. “I was thinking more along the lines of charming a few fair-headed young maidens. I expect they are in the nursery?”
Mother nodded. “I would greatly appreciate any time you can spare for the children. Hannah is no doubt exhausted. I am going to have some things packed so I might leave at once if word comes.”
“I know what it is to be confined in a carriage for as long as the children have been,” Blake said. “I bet they are anxious to run and play. A walk perhaps?”
Mother reached out and covered Blake’s hand with her own. “I think that is exactly what they need.”
“Claire is hungry,” Mary said to Blake, not hiding her annoyance. “I insist on seeing the girls eat before you whisk them outside.”
“Very well,” Blake said.
“And they must don their coats and bonnets before their walk,” Mary added. “With the sky as muted and gray as it is, there will likely be rain.”
“Let me know if you need anything, Mama,” Anton said. “I have a great deal to catch up on because of my absence.”
Mother urged him away. “These two will see to the children. Thank you, Anton.”
The last thing Mary wanted to do was volunteer to spend time with Blake, but she wouldn’t neglect the children either. “I will make sure Blake does not make things worse, Mama. You can see to your packing.”
“Mr. Gunther,” Mother reminded her. “And thank you.”
“Come, Mr. Gunther,” Mary said. “I will teach you how to feed a one-year-old.”
Blake followed her upstairs. “Certainly. As long as you also see to their nappies. I am only here to provide the entertainment.”
Mary glanced at his profile as they walked. Did the man have to be so infuriatingly handsome all the time? It was kind of him to volunteer to take care of the children, but Mary wanted to be the one to do it. She would have to put aside her harsh feelings for the afternoon. She feared the children would catch onto her mood and worry needlessly. They were already far from their mother and their home. They needed reassurance, not Mary’s frustrations. She took a deep breath. She pictured Blake with an apron, making silly faces at the children. If she could keep the image of him as a nursemaid in her mind, then perhaps she would be immune to him.
Chapter 6
Blake watched Mary hurry to help Opal stand again after she’d taken a little spill on the lawn in the courtyard. “There, there, Opal. You’re all right.”
“Are you all right, Mary?” Blake asked. She seemed awfully flustered and for once, he did not think it was because of anything stupid he had said or done.
“Lady Mary,” Mary corrected, with a bite to her tone.
Blake groaned. “Forgive me, my lady. We both know how impossible it is to be proper in public, but in private it’s entirely too much work.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Fine. You can keep calling me Mary. But just while we are with the children.”
It was a small victory in overcoming her poor humor, but he would take it. “Are you going to answer my question? There is something bothering you.”
“I’m surprised you noticed.”
There, the expected jibe. It would be a long, miserable summer if she decided to stay angry with him.
Mary’s eyes watched Gloria chase after Claire. “It’s Jillian. Do you think anything could happen to her?” Her voice was low, and even the worry sounded like that of a woman, not a child. When did Mary become so grown up? He’d been noticing for some time, but he was still not used to it.
“Your sister was not herself when we visited. I hear childbirth can take a toll on a person.”
“I love children,” Mary said. She turned to him. “But bearing children sounds so dreadful.”
This was the Mary he missed. The one who would confide in him. “You will be brave when the time comes. I know you will.”
“I had to keep a good face for Mama, but the truth is, I don’t want Jillian to die.” Her voice caught.
Blake put his arm out, and Mary came to him. She curled up against him just like the time when her cat had been killed by a carriage wheel. Or more recently, when her dearest friend married and she had felt abandoned. And then there was the horrible night they’d heard the news about Mary’s father. This was a familiar position, and yet, thinking of Mary one day turning to someone else—someone like Lord Templeton—made Blake pull her closer. Someday things would change between them, and there would be no looking back. Being adults meant having adult problems, and he knew it was his job to spin the situation into something lighter.
“Do you know what Jillian cares about more than anything?” Blake asked.
“What?” Mary asked, sniffing and batting away a few errant tears.
“These little girls. Let’s take good care of them. And then at the end of every day, we will write and tell her about our adventures. You could even send her sketches.”
Mary pulled back. “I love your idea. Jillian will likely be worried about them, and the stories will cheer her.
We can include drawings from Gloria and Claire, as well as mine.”
“And trace Opal’s hand for her to see,” Blake added.
Mary scrunched her nose. “What will she think of you and I spending so much time together?”
“Because you are supposed to hate me?” Blake asked, curious as to why she would ask such an odd question. Everyone at Banbury Castle spent a lot of time with Blake. It was unavoidable.
Mary nodded. “Precisely. She will think I am weak to have forgiven you already.”
“What exactly do you need to forgive me for this time?” Blake asked, stepping much too close and staring down at Mary with wide eyes. “Hmm?” He let his head drop to touch her forehead.
She laughed and pushed him away. “Take your displeasing person over there to watch Opal before she eats that flower. I am going to play princesses with Gloria and Claire, and you will be useless in such a game.”
“You deliberately ignored my question again,” Blake said, putting his hands on his hips. “And I would make a very fine princess; though, I daresay dragons would be more entertaining.”
Mary scoffed. “You might stare at your reflection long enough to qualify as a princess, but you are not going to ruin our fun by adding a dragon. You and Opal run along. My sister is going to have a delightful story today about princesses. I am determined.”
Blake loved a good competition. Swooping Opal into his arms before she shoved a flower in her mouth, Blake hurried down to the other two girls, arriving at the same time as Mary.
“Quick, a dragon is coming. Spin in circles as fast as you can to keep him from eating you.”
Claire squealed and started spinning. She made it one rotation before she fell down. Blake lifted up Opal and dove toward Claire’s stomach. “The dragon is coming!” Claire squealed and rolled away. She stood and started running, only to trip because she was laughing so hard.
“The dragon can’t get me,” Gloria said.
Blake flew Opal over to Gloria to win her over. Soon peals of laughter emitted from both Opal’s and Gloria’s mouths. “Spin in circles, Gloria! Spin.”
Gloria was soon weaving back and forth from spinning so much. She collapsed with a delighted sigh of pleasure.
Turning, Blake flew Opal toward Mary. “Spin in circles before the dragon eats you.”
Mary shook her head. “Oh no. This is not nearly as fun as princesses, I guarantee.”
“Uh oh, girls.” Blake turned to Gloria and Claire. “Where are my other dragons? Mary isn’t spinning in circles? Who will help me eat her?”
“I will!”
“Me, me. I want to be a dragon.”
Mary gave him a playful scowl. He swooped Opal up into the air, her little arms swinging with tiny giggles erupting from her mouth. Mary realized he was serious and turned to run. He tucked Opal on his hip and with his other arm, captured Mary around the waist.
“Get her dragons!”
Gloria and Claire dove at Mary’s legs bowling into them. Mary started to go down but Blake pulled her tight against him.
“That was close,” he said, although his words seemed literal now since Mary’s face was very near his.
This time something hit him and hard. He was pushed over into Mary, and they fell down onto the grass in one big heap. At the last minute, Blake tucked to the side so he did not collapse directly onto Mary and kept Opal free from collision. He looked up to see Anton’s dog right before the animal licked his face.
“Get off me, Patches!” Blake pushed the large collie off of him. “Everyone all right?”
The girls leapt up to pet Patches. Even Opal wrestled out of Blake’s arms. Mary shook next to him.
“Mary?” Was she hurt? He rolled to his side to look at her. She was laughing. “You scared me. I thought you were shaking from pain.”
“You are right. Your dragon game was better than princesses.”
“You practically issued a challenge, you know. Tomorrow you can be a princess, and I promise not to interfere.” Blake stood and helped Mary up.
Mary sighed. “You know, I wasn’t afraid of you. Opal, on the other hand, makes a furious dragon. I never would have guessed a one-year-old to be so very terrifying.”
Blake watched the girls chase after the dog. “Careful, girls. She’ll bite if you pull her tail.” He turned to find Mary staring at him. “What?”
“I forgot how good you were with children.”
“That’s because I’m still a child myself. I never grew up.”
Mary bit back her smile. “Sounds about right, except I’ve never seen a child with such broad shoulders.”
Blake straightened. “Admiring my physique, are you?”
Mary’s smile dropped. “The moment I think you have changed, and you remind me you haven’t.” She turned to the girls. “Who wants biscuits and jam?”
“I was joking,” Blake said, shaking his head. What he would give to know why she was mad at him. He’d been teasing for years about being the best looking in the neighborhood. If he couldn’t be rich or titled, he had to claim something. It was a running joke and no more. Sighing, he watched Mary herd the girls back toward the front of the keep, like pretty little maids all in a row.
He dusted the grass off his breeches and went to collect his horse. He was no closer to finding himself a bride today than he was yesterday. He’d even gone to Anton for advice this morning, only to be interrupted by the children. Now, here he was again, heading home to listen to his mother harp on him or hide with his father and his beetle collection.
Turning, he took one last look at Mary’s fleeting image. Lud, but she was beautiful. He could easily convince himself to care for her. He did need a wife. He rubbed his chin with his thumb. No, his best friends would kill him. He’d had thoughts like this before, and it was best to suppress them as fast as they came.
It was too late.
Her blue eyes sparkled like sapphires in his mind, and he could feel her warm body pressed close. His breath caught in his chest. He had to physically shake his head to rid himself of her image. It didn’t matter how much fun they had together, or the myriad of memories that tied them fast in a permanent connection. Mary deserved to be loved, and Blake didn’t know the first thing about the subject.
Not Mary, anyone but Mary.
Chapter 7
Mary pushed all the blocks in the nursery into a pile. “Let’s build another castle.”
Gloria shook her blonde little head. “We already built three castles. I’m tired of blocks. Can’t we play with Mr. Gunther again?”
Frowning, Mary stole a glance at the door for the millionth time that day. Where was Blake? He’d been absent all yesterday, but two days in a row? He must be ill. That was it. Nothing else would have kept him away. “Why don’t I see if I can find him, shall I? You stay here with Hannah, and color your mother another picture.”
Mary picked up her skirt and skipped down the stairs in search of Anton or Terrance. They ought to know where Blake was if anyone did. She froze at the bottom when she realized Lord Templeton stood just inside the front door. Heat engulfed her.
“Lady Mary,” Lord Templeton said. “I thought you would stumble with the speed you took those stairs.”
Mary choked on her sharp inhale and coughed several times in her hands. “I did not know you were here. Forgive me.”
“That much is obvious, but do not be embarrassed. I came to call on your family.”
“Please,” she pointed to the drawing room. She turned to a footman. “Send a maid for my mother and brothers.” She took a seat on a chair opposite him. Seeing Lord Templeton again reminded her of their enjoyable conversation from their dinner several nights previously. If only she had met Lord Templeton before Blake. No, that was ridiculous. She’d known Blake since her birth.
“How are you settling into your home? Is your butler still sneezing?”
“No, actually,” Lord Templeton said, chuckling. “It turns out it was a small cold. My relief was palpable.”<
br />
“And your housekeeper? Does she still frighten you?”
“She is terrifying. I—” Lord Templeton was cut off by her mother’s entrance.
“We are so glad you have come to call on us, Lord Templeton.” Mother gave Mary an overexcited smile, and Mary lowered her brow in annoyance. She wasn’t in the mood to entertain guests.
More voices came from the foyer. Her brothers stepped into the doorway, followed by Blake. Mary looked past her brother and speared Blake with a glare. He pretended not to notice, but that only made her angrier.
Her brothers flanked her mother on the sofa, forcing Blake to sit near Mary.
“I heard you acquired a new horse,” Terrance said to Lord Templeton, who was seated across the room from her, “with an exceptional bloodline.”
“Indeed,” Lord Templeton said. “I wanted to start building up my new stables.”
“Mother here is adamant that we only house practical horses.” Anton put his arm around his mother. “But Gunther here has a beauty that is worth looking at.”
“Perhaps we should have us a bit of a race,” Lord Templeton said.
Mary leaned over in time to see Blake’s eyes gleam.
“You must’ve learned of our racecourse east of here. I must warn you,” Blake said. “I’m terribly competitive.”
Lord Templeton’s smile answered before he did. “So am I.”
Anton began drilling him about his horse, but Mary tuned him out. She cleared her throat, getting Blake’s attention.
“Where have you been?” she whispered, trying not to move her mouth and alert the others to their secret conversation.
“Down the hall … ”
Mary’s eyes narrowed. “The girls have been expecting you since yesterday. They didn’t forget your promise to play with them, and neither did I.”
Blake shifted uncomfortably. Good. He should be uncomfortable. She could not rely on him for anything. At least not anymore.
“Your mother … ” Blake waited until the other conversation picked up again. “Your mother would not like me spending so much time with you.”
Lady Mary Contrary: Regency Ever After book 2 Page 3
