by Jen Turano
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she forced feet that didn’t seem to want to move into motion and headed for the drawing room. Hovering in the doorway, she tried to steady nerves that had taken to jingling, surveying the scene in front of her as she did so.
Mr. Everett Mulberry was standing in the middle of the room, holding a large bundle of flowers wrapped in what seemed to be newsprint. Lucetta was standing right in front of him, chatting about what sounded like the weather, but it was immediately clear Everett wasn’t exactly listening to her. His eyes were a little glazed and he seemed somewhat dazed. Millie couldn’t really blame him for the whole dazed situation, since Lucetta was known as one of the most beautiful ladies in all of New York.
A trace of wistfulness took Millie by surprise, brought on by the disturbing notion that there was a part of her, albeit a small part, that wished a gentleman like Everett would look at her with . . .
A loud sneeze interrupted her thoughts, and then Everett sneezed again, right as his eyes began watering.
“Forgive me, Miss Plum, but I haven’t been able to concentrate on a word you’ve said,” he began as he held out the bouquet of flowers. “Would it be too much of a bother to have you hold these for me until Miss Longfellow appears? I’m afraid I’m somewhat sensitive when it comes to flowers, and I’m beginning to lose the ability to breathe.”
Lucetta, strangely enough, sent Everett an approving sort of look before she nodded in Millie’s direction. “Millie’s just arrived, so you can hand those to her.”
Spinning around, Everett narrowed still-watering eyes on her, took a second to look her up and down, which had her feeling a little flustered, and then strode right up next to her. Without saying a single word, he thrust the flowers at her and then practically raced to the other side of the room. Whipping out a handkerchief, he wiped his eyes before he frowned.
“Good heavens, Miss Longfellow, I must beg your pardon. By your appearance, it’s clear you’re readying yourself to go out this evening. Would it be more convenient for me to call upon you tomorrow, say . . . midmorning?”
Millie forced a smile. “There’s no need for you to return tomorrow morning, Mr. Mulberry, since I’m, ah, not planning on going anywhere this evening.”
“Why are you wearing a dinner dress, then?” he asked before he dissolved into a bout of sneezing, giving Millie much-needed time to consider a suitable response.
“I, um, enjoy dressing in dinner gowns when I’m at my leisure?” was all she managed to come up with since she certainly wasn’t going to tell him Abigail had been behind her unusual clothing choice.
Everett lifted his head from his handkerchief. “That seems like a rather odd thing to do.”
“Perhaps, but . . . since you obviously have a reason for being here, do you truly believe it’s in your best interest to argue with me or . . . insult me by insinuating I’m odd?”
Another sneeze was Everett’s first response, before he blew his nose, then smiled somewhat weakly in Millie’s direction. “Excellent point, Miss Longfellow, and to correct that, may I say that although I find your choice of dress somewhat peculiar, you do look remarkably charming at the moment, quite different from how you normally look.”
For a second, her knees felt all wobbly, but only until she actually considered what he’d just said. “I’m not sure that was much of an improvement, but tell me, Mr. Mulberry, are you, by chance, hoping that your attempt at complimenting me will have me feeling more disposed toward whatever business you’re evidently here to propose?”
“What a wonderful use of the word disposed,” Lucetta said before Everett had a chance to reply.
Millie turned to Lucetta. “I learned it just today—from Mrs. Cutling, of all people—as well as the word execrable, but I haven’t yet been able to fit that appropriately into any of my conversations so far.”
“Your interest in words is truly inspiring, Miss Longfellow,” Everett said, speaking up, apparently not quite done with the whole complimenting business. “And it’s also inspiring how much you seem to enjoy children, which is why I just happened to bring my wards with me this evening.” He turned and nodded toward a fainting couch placed in front of the fireplace.
Millie didn’t know whether to laugh or shake her head when she finally took note of the three adorable children smiling brightly her way. All of them had strawberry-blond hair, hair that undoubtedly hadn’t seen a good brushing in a while, and all three of them were wearing very unusual frocks, ones that certainly hadn’t been professionally sewn.
Glancing back to Everett, Millie arched a brow. “I would have never taken you for a coward, Mr. Mulberry, but honestly, do you really believe carting out your wards is going to convince me to agree to whatever madness has you seeking me out so late at night?”
Everett smiled almost as brightly as the children. “Now, now, Miss Longfellow, there’s no cause to call me a coward. Smart like a fox, perhaps, but—”
“You shouldn’t antagonize her, Everett,” Lucetta suddenly said, interrupting Everett’s speech before she turned to Millie. “And you shouldn’t be surprised he brought the children with him, considering everyone knows you have a distinct weakness for the wee ones. However, before the conversation moves forward, I really am going to have to insist that the two of you drop all of this Miss and Mister nonsense. We have a common friend in Oliver Addleshaw. Which means, like it or not, we’re now friends of a sort. And because of that, there’s really no reason for such formality.”
“There is if he’s here to ask me to work for him.”
“Of course he’s here to ask you to work for him,” Lucetta said. “But that has absolutely nothing to do with calling him by his given name.”
Millie opened her mouth, but before she could respond, something that looked remarkably like mud began seeping through the paper wrapped around the flowers she was holding. Moving to the closest table, she unwrapped the paper before setting her sights on Everett again. “Did you pull these flowers right out of the ground, Mr. Mulberry?”
Everett smiled. “Please, call me Everett since Lucetta was kind enough to point out we’re friends, and of course I didn’t pull those right out of the ground.”
Millie held up the flowers, exposing the roots still clinging to dirt. “You would have me believe you purchased these from a flower shop?”
“It’s after ten. There are no flower shops open, but if you must know, I had Rosetta pluck those out of the ground for you.”
A little girl of about five raised an incredibly dirty hand and waved at her right as Everett cleared his throat, drawing Millie’s attention.
“I think you should view it as a mark in my favor that I remembered the flowers, especially since, again, I’m a little sensitive to them, but . . . you were quite vocal about what it would take to get you to work for me.” He sent her a far-too-charming smile.
Ignoring the charm, Millie lifted her chin. “You might as well tell me what disaster struck your household now.”
Everett shot a glance to the children and seemed to shudder. “Why would you assume something disastrous happened?”
Setting the flowers, roots and all, aside, Millie crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t insult my intelligence, Everett. You wouldn’t be bringing me flowers or children if something of a disastrous nature hadn’t occurred.”
“The children are adorable, aren’t they?”
“Of course they’re adorable, dear, which I’m sure you were hoping to use to your advantage,” Abigail said as she arrived in the drawing room, pushing a cart that seemed to be heavy with treats. She brought the cart to a stop. “Mr. Kenton is currently making us some tea, since both the housekeeper and chef have retired for the night.” She smiled at the children. “I didn’t want your hot chocolate to get cold, though, and I thought all of you might like a few cookies.”
The three children were on their feet in less than a second, but before they reached the cart, Millie stepped in front of them. “You’ll n
eed to wash up first—especially you, Rosetta.”
Three pairs of eyes narrowed on Millie, but when she didn’t budge, the oldest girl took her two siblings by the hands and met Millie’s gaze. “I don’t know where the washroom is located.”
“I’ll show you,” Abigail offered, and a moment later, with the children by her side, she disappeared through the door.
Millie watched them leave before looking at Everett. “What happened?”
For a second, she didn’t think he was going to answer, but then his shoulders sagged. “They glued Miss Dixon to a chair and ruined one of her new dresses in the process.”
Lucetta smothered what sounded exactly like a laugh behind her hand before she made a mad dash for the door, vanishing from sight a second later.
“It wasn’t funny,” Everett said shortly.
Millie pressed her lips firmly together and watched as Everett began pacing around the room, bracing herself when he suddenly stopped and sent a scowl her way.
“Miss Dixon is demanding I hire on a nanny immediately, and since you’re the only nanny who seems to be available . . . you’re going to have to do.”
Millie blinked. “Do you honestly believe that little speech will have me accepting your offer?”
Before Millie had an opportunity to so much as blink again, Everett was right beside her, dropping down on one knee even as he pulled her hand into his. “Please. I’m begging you. Come to Newport with me.”
Looking down into eyes that truly did seem to be desperate, Millie considered him for a long moment. “No.”
Her hand was dropped in a split second as Everett rose to his feet. “Why not?”
“Because I’m a very good nanny, and I don’t like hearing you say differently.”
“I brought you flowers and begged you on bended knee.”
“That was just for show and you know it.”
“I’ll pay you that two thousand dollars I offered Mrs. Smithey.”
“How incredibly generous of you, Everett,” Abigail said, walking back into the room with the children trailing after her.
“It’s not generous at all,” Millie argued. “He offered that same amount to a woman who had a very sour disposition and was probably a horrible nanny.”
“I seem to have forgotten napkins,” Abigail said before she headed for the door again, bustling through it rather rapidly.
Glancing to the cart, Millie noticed a stack of folded napkins and felt her lips curl. Shaking her head at the antics of Abigail, yet having no idea if the older woman was up to something at the moment or had simply not wanted to witness an argument, Millie began placing cookies on the small plates that were also on the cart. She turned and found the oldest child standing right next to her.
“You must be Elizabeth,” she said, earning only a nod in return as Elizabeth took the plate Millie offered and handed it to the younger girl hovering behind her. “And you, of course, are Rosetta, and you . . .” She looked at little boy. “Well, you must be Thaddeus, twin brother to Rosetta.”
Thaddeus took the plate she offered. “How do you know I’m a boy?”
“I’d be a very sorry nanny indeed if I couldn’t tell the boys from the girls, wouldn’t I?”
“I’m wearing a dress.”
“And I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason for that, but we’ll discuss it at another time . . . if I decide to take up Everett’s offer of employment.”
“They’re really very good children, when they put their minds to it,” Everett said as the children got resettled on the fainting couch with their treats. “They’re also very sorry about what they did to Miss Dixon and have promised not to glue anyone else to any chairs.”
By the mutinous expressions on all three little faces, Millie was fairly sure they weren’t sorry at all, but she saw absolutely no benefit in pointing that out.
“And they’ve agreed,” Everett continued as he looked directly at the children, “to be on their very best behavior if you’ll agree to become their nanny.”
The mutinous expressions disappeared to be replaced with three angelic smiles.
Realizing that Everett had evidently resorted to bribery to get the children’s cooperation, Millie swallowed a laugh as she nodded toward the door. “Before I give you my answer, Everett, I’m going to need a minute alone with the children.”
Everett’s eyes went wide. “I’m not sure that’s exactly wise.”
“Wise or not, I’m afraid I’m really going to have to insist on this.”
With a look of skepticism on his face, Everett quit the room, closing the door ever so slowly behind him.
Placing her hands on her hips, Millie regarded the children, who were now sending her looks of deepest dislike. Arching a brow, she decided her best option was to let them start the conversation.
It didn’t take long for them, or at least Elizabeth, to speak up.
“We don’t want a nanny, and we only said we did because each of us will get a dollar if we’re friendly.” Elizabeth lifted her chin and glared at Millie.
The defiance spoke volumes.
“I must admit I, too, would have been hard-pressed to refuse such a generous offer, but . . . tell me . . . what is it that you really want, since it’s clear you don’t want anyone looking after you?” Millie said softly.
For a second, Elizabeth’s lip trembled, but only for a second. “We just want things to go back to the way they were—before . . . well . . . before.”
Right there and then, Millie knew she had no choice but to accept Everett’s offer. It didn’t matter that he’d injured her pride, or that he really was far too attractive for his own good. All that mattered was sitting right in front of her, trying not to cry, and looking more pathetic than Millie had seen a child look in a very long time.
“Fair enough,” she said before she made for the door, pulling it open only to discover Everett standing remarkably close to it, as if he’d been doing his very best to eavesdrop.
“So?” he asked.
“I’ll do it, but it’s going to cost you twenty-five hundred dollars.”
“That’s flat-out robbery.”
“True, but you were the one who mentioned not that long ago that I needed to work on my negotiating skills, and . . . since you’re obviously desperate, I do believe this is the perfect time for me to try my hand at negotiating.”
Everett narrowed his eyes. “And if I agree to your outlandish demand?”
“I’ll come to Newport with you.”
His eyes narrowed another fraction. “Fine, it’s a deal, but tell me, are you doing this strictly for the money?”
Millie narrowed her eyes right back at him. “It’s never about the money, Everett. It’s only about the children. Maybe with time, you’ll understand that.”
4
The next day, Everett urged Titan, one of his favorite horses, down the cobblestone path that led to the back of his Fifth Avenue mansion. He pulled the horse to a stop directly in front of a groom already waiting for him. Climbing from the saddle, he handed the reins to the groom, gave Titan a pat, and headed for the house. Pulling out a pocket watch, he stopped dead in his tracks when he took note of the time.
“It cannot be only a little after noon.” He peered closer at the watch, disgruntlement settling over him when he realized that it was, indeed, just past twelve.
After all the events he’d squeezed in since he’d stumbled out of bed that morning, it seemed to him as if entire days had passed, not simply hours.
When he’d returned home the night before, after securing Millie’s agreement to work for him, he hadn’t been surprised to find Caroline still firmly ensconced in his library. She’d immediately demanded to learn the outcome of his quest, and when he informed her he’d found them a nanny, if a slightly questionable one, a genuine smile had spread over her face, the first he’d seen from her in days.
His delight over seeing that smile didn’t last long. Once he got Caroline into a carriage to escort
her home, she’d taken to turning a little bossy.
She’d told him, in no uncertain terms, that she wanted to be on her way to Newport early the next morning. The only problem with that, though, was she did not want to travel in the company of the children, proclaiming that the children’s recent fascination with the whole walking the plank business gave her heart palpitations. Since the best way to get to Newport was over a vast amount of water, and Everett was fairly certain the children hadn’t exactly put aside their mischievous ways just yet, he actually thought her concerns held some merit. Because of that, he’d decided the only way to placate her was to offer her the use of his private yacht the next morning, complete with a full staff to wait on her every need, while offering to bring the children to Newport on a different day.
Caroline had quickly accepted his offer, but then she’d continued to voice additional demands—demands that went from seeing her to the docks the next morning, to promising to be in Newport a day after that in order to watch her play tennis. She’d even gone so far as to suggest he leave the children behind in New York with their new nanny, proclaiming that leaving them behind would be beneficial to all involved.
Caroline had not been pleased when he’d immediately rejected that particular suggestion, but she’d rallied quickly. Evidently realizing she’d annoyed him with her less than compassionate attitude toward his wards, she’d batted her lashes in a very attractive manner, and told him that she’d only suggested such a thing because she missed the comradery they’d shared before the children had come into their lives. He’d felt slightly mollified by that, until Caroline mentioned the bothersome little fact that she’d left a long list of what she believed were appropriate boarding schools on his desk. By the time they’d arrived at Caroline’s residence on Park Avenue, he’d been rather relieved to bid her a quick farewell.
His sense of relief, however, had been short-lived, because when he got back to his house, he discovered the children had not cooperated with Mr. Macon and gone to bed but were waiting for him to see them settled.
