The Sugar Queen

by Tess Thompson

  “Were you homesick?” I asked.

  “Terrible at first,” Lizzie said. “I missed my mum and sister. We all worked together in the big kitchen back home. But Jasper was here, so I wanted to be where he was.” She flushed and glanced at Merry. “Oh dear.”

  Merry leaned closer. “Lizzie loves Jasper.”

  “Always have,” Lizzie said. “Since we were in knickers.”

  “But he doesn’t want to marry,” Merry said. “He’s old-fashioned and doesn’t think he could be married and still be the butler and valet to Lord Barnes.”

  I nodded. These class distinctions were lost on Americans, but I knew they were very real for our friends overseas.

  “At least this way I can be in the same house with him,” Lizzie said.

  How awful it must be for her to want what she could never have. Would the same thing happen to me if I stayed too long in this house? I’d want to be Lord Barnes’s wife and the children’s mother. None of whom belonged to me.

  “Never mind all that,” Lizzie said, obviously wanting to change the subject. “Lady Ida was strange from the start—mood swings and a terrible temper. For weeks she’d be in bed and then up for days at a time, wandering the house. She wanted nothing to do with the children. That’s why they’re so close to their father. He was mother and father to them. Jasper wanted him to hire more servants, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He resented being raised by a team of governesses when he was a child. Children saw their parents only a few minutes each day. He swore to all of us that it would not be that way in his house. His American house.”

  “Which would’ve been fine except for her,” Merry said.

  “Then she had Fiona and went completely mad,” Lizzie said. “The lord found her with a knife over the baby.”

  I gasped. “No.”

  “Yes. He saved the wee one just in time.” Lizzie’s eyes reddened. “When I think of our little Fiona and what might’ve happened…” She fanned her eyes with one hand. “May God save her soul. I’m not sure any of us will ever forget that awful night.”

  “The nanny had to lock herself and the children in the nursery,” Lizzie said. “She was so frightened she left the next day for Chicago.”

  “It’s been one nanny after the other since then,” Merry said.

  “We’re sure the children conspire together to run them off,” Lizzie said. “They put a frog in the bed of the one we had before Nanny Foster.”

  “They never confessed,” Merry said. “But Lizzie and I are certain it was Flynn’s idea.”

  Lizzie shook her head. “That poor woman. I heard her scream from all the way down in my room off the kitchen here. Lord Barnes took away their books for a week.”

  They went on to tell me all of the previous antics the children had pulled to get rid of the caregivers, including making ghostlike noises outside her bedroom, hiding shoes, adding vinegar to cups of tea.

  “The worst was vodka in lemonade,” Lizzie said. “Nanny Miller was drunk as could be in the middle of the afternoon and fell into the creek.”

  “She came back looking like a drowned cat,” Merry said. “An angry cat, sputtering and crying.”

  “Why don’t they want a nanny?” I asked. “Because of rules and such?”

  Lizzie and Merry looked at each other before she answered. “They don’t want intruders. People who aren’t part of the family.”

  “And they see you two as family?” I asked.

  “That’s right. And Harley and Poppy,” Merry said.

  “Because of their mum,” Lizzie said. “They don’t want to love someone they think might leave them. So they make them leave first.”

  This theory made perfect sense. “I may as well tell you,” I said. “Lord Barnes and I have come to an agreement. Since it’s been so hard to find someone, I’m going to take care of the children until spring.”

  Merry squeezed my hand. “That’s awfully kind of you.”

  “Only until he can find someone appropriate,” I said. “However, now I’m wondering if my offer was ill-advised.”

  “Bless you,” Lizzie said. “You’re just what the children need.”

  “I do hope they won’t put a frog in my bed,” I said.

  “Just pull back the covers before you get in at night.” Merry grimaced. “That was Nanny Shelby’s mistake.”

  Chapter 14

  Alexander

  * * *

  The children and I dined on Lizzie’s chicken potpie filled with soft chunks of carrots, potatoes, sweet onions. Miss Cooper had agreed to stay downstairs with Lizzie and Merry for the meal, giving me time to talk to the children alone. They all ate with great appetites. They’d had a big day.

  “I have something to tell you,” I said.

  “Is someone else dead?” Flynn asked.

  “What? No. Flynn, what would make you say such a thing?”

  “You always start out like that when you have bad news,” Flynn said.

  “This isn’t bad news,” I said. “In fact, I hope you’ll find it good. As you know, we’ve had a hard time keeping a nanny. You’re a rambunctious brood, and this remote place we live in is not for everyone. I suspect, also, that you purposely ran off the last few. And you were terrible to Nanny—” For heaven’s sake, I’d already forgotten her name. “The one who left this morning. You know who I mean.”

  Other than Fiona, no one looked at me. Josephine buttered an additional piece of bread for Fiona. Theo pushed a piece of onion around his plate. Cymbeline stabbed a bit of chicken and held it close to her face, as if examining for mold. Flynn guzzled milk.

  “I need someone to look after you,” I said.

  Theo lifted his head to gaze in my direction. “We have Lizzie and Merry,” he said with an unusual amount of firmness in his tone. “They’re enough.”

  “And they love us.” Flynn set down his empty milk glass. “Unlike these other people you keep bringing here.”

  “Lizzie and Merry have too much other work to add you to their burden,” I said.

  “Are we a burden?” Cymbeline’s bottom lip trembled.

  I waved my hand dismissively. “Not a burden, no. I simply mean that five children are a lot to look after all at once, and they already have too many responsibilities.”

  “I can take care of us,” Josephine mumbled.

  I ignored that for now.

  “Anyway, until I can get someone else, Miss Cooper has volunteered to help.”

  Cymbeline and Flynn frowned. Fiona sucked in her bottom lip. Josephine folded her arms over her chest. Theo slouched over his plate. I thought they liked Miss Cooper.

  “What is it?” I asked. “Don’t you like Miss Cooper?”

  “We like her very much,” Josephine said, finally. “But she cannot be our nanny.”

  “Temporary nanny,” I said. “And why not?”

  “Because she’s supposed to be your wife,” Flynn blurted out.

  I blinked. “What did you say?”

  “Papa, we prayed for her to come, and she finally did,” Josephine said.

  “She’s going to be our mama, not a nanny,” Cymbeline said. “We already decided.”

  I’m not one to lose my sense of direction or find myself without words. This time, however, I sat there utterly flabbergasted.

  “Isn’t that why you ordered her?” Theo asked.

  “Ordered her?” Had I heard him right?

  “Like Mr. Carter did,” Flynn said. “From the mail.”

  “Whatever would give you that idea?” I asked. “How do you know how Mr. Carter got his wife?”

  “Papa, everyone knows where these women come from,” Josephine said. “They just show up one day on the train with a sad little suitcase and suddenly they’re someone’s wife. We figured you were so clever that you found us a teacher and a new mother in the same person.”

  I pushed away my plate and folded my hands together on top of the table. This was not at all how I thought this conversation was going to go. “Let me set
you all straight. Miss Cooper came here to be our first teacher. Not my wife.”

  “Oh, so you don’t actually know yet?” Flynn asked. “We thought you knew.”

  “We didn’t know, obviously,” Josephine said. “Until we saw her. Until we saw you together.”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you,” I said. “But you have this all wrong.”

  Fiona started to cry. “The others said she was going to be our new mama.”

  “When in heaven’s name did you discuss this?” I asked.

  “This morning,” Josephine said. “During our family meeting.”

  I dropped my forehead into the palm of my hand. They had family meetings without me? When had that begun? It was like a geographic shift, and I was looking at a world I no longer recognized. Because here was the actual ridiculous truth. I agreed with them. I couldn’t say that, of course. We’d known Miss Cooper for two days. This time last week we were eating beef stew and discussing how excited we were for our new teacher to arrive. Two days ago, I’d thought she was a white-haired spinster. We were all acting mad. Romances like this were for books, not real life.

  “Listen carefully now. You will not mention any of this nonsense to Miss Cooper. Do you understand?”

  “Why?” Cymbeline asked. “How will she know the plan?”

  “Because you will scare her away,” I said. “She came here to teach, not find a husband. She might not even want a husband.” I added the last thought hoping with everything I had that it wasn’t true.

  Josephine scowled and shook her head as if I’d said we were taking a ride to the moon. “Papa, she wants a husband.”

  “Especially one like you,” Flynn said.

  Theo nodded, quite solemn. “Papa, she looks at you with her heart in her eyes.”

  I glanced around the table at their earnest expressions. They actually believed Miss Cooper was for us. My darling babies were all romantic fools, mirroring my unspoken, irrational daydreams. We wished for love with such fervor that we’d imagined that a wife and mother had fallen suddenly from the sky. Or, in this circumstance, from the train.

  I spoke as sternly as possible. “We won’t discuss this again. Miss Cooper has been gracious enough to accept the position. If I hear another word, you’ll all be punished.” With that, I set aside my napkin and rose from the table, acting the part of strict father when, in fact, they’d shaken me. My legs wobbled as I entered the hallway. I heard the familiar creak of the stairs that led to the kitchen. Someone had been standing outside the door, listening. God help me. Please, I prayed. Let it have been Jasper and not Miss Cooper standing in the hallway.

  I jumped when Jasper shuffled out of the library carrying an empty tray. Wonderful. Jasper had not been in the hallway. If Miss Cooper had heard that conversation, she was probably contemplating how to get out of this house and back to the world of rational humans.

  “What’s the matter?” Jasper asked. “You look a bit undone.”

  “Let’s go into town for a drink. I want to get out of the house.” When had it gotten so warm in here? I loosened my tie.

  His eyebrows raised. “Town?”

  “Yes, town.”

  “For a drink?”

  I rubbed the skin between my eyebrows, irritated. Why did he have to question me? If I wanted to go into the saloon, then I would go to the bloody saloon. “I know, it’s unusual, but I feel the urge for some fresh air. Do you have a problem with that?”

  He flinched as if I’d smacked him. “Not at all.”

  “I’m sorry, Jasper.” I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “I had a strange interaction with the children, and I’m rattled.”

  “No explanation necessary. I’ll have Harley prepare the horses.”

  “First, I need to speak to Miss Cooper. Do you know where she is?”

  “Downstairs with Lizzie and Merry.” He watched me with wary eyes, as if I were a stranger to him. “Shall I fetch her for you?”

  “No, I’ll go down myself. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “As you wish.”

  Chapter 15

  Quinn

  * * *

  I was at the sink in the kitchen drying a plate when I heard heavy footsteps on the stairs. Lord Barnes burst through the door seconds later. His hair stood up in the front as if he’d been running his hands through it, and his tie was loose about his neck.

  “Lord Barnes, may I help you with something?” Lizzie leapt up from the table where she’d been polishing a silver serving tray with a cotton cloth.

  “Who was in the hallway just now?” he asked.

  “That was me,” Merry said. She’d climbed up on the step stool to put a bowl up on the top shelf and stood there now, frozen. “I’d come from the library. I had to put more logs on the fire. Is something the matter?”

  “Oh, so you weren’t listening to the conversation in the dining room?” he asked.

  Merry’s knuckles whitened as she pressed the bowl against her chest. “No, Lord Barnes. Was I supposed to?”

  “No, no. Of course not.” He ran a hand through his hair, proving I’d been correct about the origin of its dishevelment. “And no, nothing’s the matter. I just came down to tell you that I’ve talked to the children, Miss Cooper.” Lord Barnes leaned against the wall, as if he were tired.

  My heart sank. His dark expression told me everything I needed to know. “They were upset?”

  “What? No, no. They quite like you. Yes, they quite like you.”

  I studied him. Why was he repeating himself, and why the emphasis on the word quite? He picked at the skin around his thumbnail as his gaze darted around the kitchen. “Anyway, they’re upstairs in the dining room. Perhaps bring them into the library after you’re done here and talk to them about things.”

  “Things?” I asked.

  “You know, how you expect them to behave and such,” he said. “Jasper and I are going into town for a drink.”

  “Lord Barnes?” Lizzie asked. “To the saloon?”

  “Yes, we’re going to the saloon,” he said. “Just this once, so you mustn’t worry about my moral corruption, Lizzie.” He nodded at us and then practically ran back up the stairs.

  “What’s gotten into him?” Lizzie asked. “The saloon?”

  I folded the damp towel and hung it over the side of the sink. “Perhaps it went poorly with the children and he didn’t want to say.”

  “No, it’s something else,” Lizzie said. “I think the death of Mr. Cole has him worried and sad.” She nodded, as if trying to convince herself. “Yes, that’s all it is.”

  A few minutes later, I herded the children into the library and had them sit together on the couch. They obeyed without question, with Cymbeline between the twins and Fiona on Josephine’s lap.

  “Your father told you I’m going to look after you until he can find a proper replacement, is that right?”

  Nods all around. Fiona tracked my every movement with adoring eyes. I had one on my side. Was it four to go?

  “We’re going to come to a few agreements,” I said. “Like school, there are rules.”

  Five pairs of eyes were fixed on my face.

  “I ask that you’re respectful and obedient. In exchange, I’ll treat you with kindness. If you’re well behaved, we can have fun adventures together.”

  Flynn raised his hand. “Do we have to raise our hands like at school?”

  I swallowed a laugh. “Not at home, only at school. Here, you’ll wait your turn to speak and be courteous to your family members, but you don’t have to raise your hand.”

  “What’s courteous mean exactly?” Cymbeline asked.

  “Courteous means polite and thoughtful. It means you do not put frogs in beds,” I said.

  Flynn and Cymbeline giggled.

  “That was extremely naughty,” I said with a pointed look at Flynn, then Cymbeline.

  “You didn’t know her.” Josephine’s eyes shone with a feverish hatred. “She was awful to us.”

&n
bsp; “What about all the other nannies?” I asked. “Lizzie told me all about your antics.”

  Theo and Josephine looked into their laps. Flynn and Cymbeline smiled, reminding me of cats after a kill. Fiona seemed oblivious to her siblings’ previous misbehaviors as she wrinkled her little brow and looked confused.

  “None of them belonged here.” Flynn crossed his arms over his chest and jutted out one pointy chin.

  “They were scary old ladies,” Cymbeline said. “Not pretty like you.”

  “Pretty is on the inside,” I said.

  “They weren’t pretty in there, either,” Josephine said. “You’re both.”

  This clever girl had certainly figured out how to soften me. I must remain stoic and impenetrable to their charms. Falling in love with the Barnes children would do none of us any good. I was not their mother. I wasn’t even their real nanny. At some point, I would have to leave them and move on to my own home and life. I was merely an interloper, I reminded myself. Spending time with these precious children was my way of paying back a kind man for his hospitality and employment. Remaining aloof had never been a strength. On the contrary. I fell for any living being who needed and wanted my affection. Stray cats, lame dogs, motherless children. All foils to my resolve. “All right then, can I have your promise that you’ll be obedient and respectful to me?” I asked.

  More nods and smiles.

  “And I do not care for amphibians or reptiles of any kind. If you put one in my bed or anywhere else near me, I’ll have to go home to Boston.”

  All five faces transformed from earnest to sorrowful. They hadn’t understood I was only teasing. If they only knew how much more difficult it would be for me to leave them than for them to be left. I suspected Lord Barnes would marry again soon and give them a mother. Probably someone from the east or even England. A blue blood debutante type. Someone of his world.

  A spasm of jealousy hit me between my shoulder blades. That is quite ridiculous, I told myself. I barely know him. Why had God cursed me with such an imagination?