In Good Company
Page 7
“You grew up in an orphanage?”
“Why else did you think I was sent out to work at twelve?”
“I thought perhaps your parents needed help with expenses.”
“My parents died when I was an infant.”
Everett simply stared at her for a long moment as a clear sense of horror spread through him. He’d never been without the support of his parents, and as he considered that Millie had never even known hers, well—
A pat on his knee had him blinking back to the conversation at hand.
“There’s no need for you to feel distressed about my upbringing, Everett. Children lose parents all the time, and it could have been much worse for me. I could have landed in an orphanage that sends children out to work in one of those dismal factories instead of placing me as a domestic.” Her gaze suddenly sharpened on his face. “You don’t own any of those factories, do you?”
“I invest mostly in land, not factories.”
If anything, the sharpness of her gaze increased. “Is any of that invested land in the Five Points area?”
“Ah . . .”
“Because I’ve been told,” she continued before he could fully respond, “my parents lived in a tenement slum in Five Points. Due to the dismal conditions the slumlords allowed there, an influenza epidemic spread from one building to the next—an epidemic that I’ve been told killed my parents.” Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t own any of the land the slumlords operate on, do you?”
Raising his gaze to peruse a bookcase lined with leather-bound books he couldn’t remember having read in the recent past, if ever, he took a moment to consider his response. There was no denying that the properties he owned were extensive, and some of that property was located in the Five Points area. Nevertheless, in his opinion, there was a vast difference between a slumlord and himself. Slumlords might erect shoddy buildings on land that Everett owned, but the slumlord, and the slumlord alone, was the one responsible for stuffing as many people as possible into those buildings. All Everett did was collect a monthly fee for the use of the land he and his family had owned for generations. But, he didn’t think it would benefit him to admit that to the woman sitting next to him, a woman he desperately needed to keep in his employ.
He pulled his attention away from the books and settled it on Millie again. “My family has a diversified list of properties that was acquired over many years—starting with my great-great-grandfather after he got out of the fur business. Because of that, I can’t say with complete certainty, without digging into my ledgers, exactly what land I might own in Five Points.”
Millie’s brows drew together. “You would have me believe that you don’t know what specific parcels of land you own, and that you had a great-great-grandfather?”
“Everyone had great-great-grandfathers, Millie, including you.”
“Well, yes, of course, but I don’t even know what my mother’s maiden name was, and only think my father’s surname was Longfellow.” She waved a hand at him when he drew in a breath. “Again, there’s no need for you to feel bad about my lack of a family . . . so getting back to yours—how did your great-great-grandfather go about the difficult business of setting himself up in fur trading?”
Relieved that the conversation seemed to be safely traveling away from the whole Five Points subject, Everett settled more comfortably on the settee. “Family legend has it that my great-great-grandfather was a very determined young man, traveling here from England all by himself when he was in his early teens. He then somehow managed to align himself with different tribes of Indians, and his business grew from there. After he became successful trading his furs, he must have decided it was time to take his newfound wealth and invest elsewhere, and that’s when he began acquiring land.”
“And that’s what you do to this day—acquire land?”
“Though I have started businesses here and there, I mostly manage the collection of rent from the land we already own.”
Millie began to slowly inch away from him. “Then you are somewhat like a slumlord.”
Everett opened his mouth to deny the statement, but then swallowed his denial as the thought struck him that Millie’s accusation might just have a tiny bit of truth to it. While he wasn’t responsible for the shoddy housing slumlords rented out to the poor, his bank accounts were filled with money that had come out of the meager pockets of the poor, which—
“Maybe you should reconsider how you earn money,” Millie said quietly.
Shaking out of thoughts that were most likely ridiculous, because he wasn’t truly a slumlord, Everett forced a smile. “My investments are completely legitimate, Millie, but enough about them and enough about me and my family. I still find myself curious about how Reverend Gilmore came to the conclusion you were well-suited for working with children.”
For a second, he thought she wasn’t going to answer him, but then she shrugged. “He’s a man of the cloth, Everett. He turned to God and eventually came to the conclusion that God had selected me to work with children because of my experiences in the orphanage.” She smiled. “I thought he was a bit out of his mind because I wasn’t exactly a supporter of God at that particular time. In my mind, God had taken away my parents, so I really had no reason to put any trust in Him.”
“But you changed your opinion about that?”
“It took a while, but Reverend Gilmore kept at me, encouraging me to attend church, and grow my faith. I still struggle at times, when I try to reason out why my parents died, but—”
“How splendid to see the two of you getting along so well, although . . . I must say it’s not exactly wise for either of you to sit quite so closely together without some manner of chaperone present.”
Everett shifted his attention from Millie and discovered Abigail strolling into the room, holding a stuffed bear in her arms. She immediately picked up her pace, arrived directly in front of him a second later, and without a by-your-leave, thrust the bear into his arms before she plopped down between him and Millie on the settee.
“This is cozy, but would have been completely unnecessary if only the two of you had kept the children around to keep an eye on the situation.” Abigail caught Everett’s eye. “And speaking of the children, I have an entire carriage filled with toys your Mr. Macon helped me pack up, but I think the children will want to help us unload everything. May I assume they’ve simply gone off to the kitchen for a treat and will be returning to the library promptly?”
“Millie’s tied them up in the nursery.”
Abigail’s eyes widened. “How . . . delightful. Although that seems like a rather unusual method of keeping track of children.”
“Millie’s apparently teaching them some type of lesson, something she was also evidently doing when she bested them in a game of walking the plank. Quite honestly, I’m hoping the children aren’t scarred for life from that troubling experience.”
Abigail beamed his way as a touch of relief filled her eyes. “Well, of course she’s teaching them something of worth, Everett, and I have to admit that I’m now somewhat disappointed I clearly missed so much fun this morning. I’ll just have to console myself with the idea that I won’t miss additional fun and games in the future, since I’ve decided to join you in Newport.”
“What?” Everett and Millie asked at the same time.
Abigail glanced at him and then at Millie. “I’m going to take the expressions residing on both of your faces as unmitigated joy over my decision to travel to Newport.”
“I have no idea what unmitigated means, but I do know that there’s no need for you to travel to Newport,” Millie said. “I’ll be watching the children the entire time, and you’ll have absolutely nothing to do.”
“Oh, I think I’ll be able to find something of worth to occupy my days.” Abigail folded her hands in her lap. “Besides, there’s every need for me to travel with you, because you really do need a chaperone.”
“I’ve never brought a chaperone with me before when I�
��ve taken on a nanny position.”
“And look where that landed you—dismissed every time.” Abigail nodded to Everett. “You understand, don’t you, the need for me to travel with Millie as her chaperone, especially since Millie’s a lovely young lady and you’re an eligible gentleman bachelor?”
“None of the nannies I’ve employed over the last few months have come with their own chaperones” was the only thing he could think to reply.
Abigail’s brow disappeared beneath the brim of her fashionable hat. “Millie’s different.”
Everett couldn’t help himself—he laughed. “Oh, I don’t think there’s any disputing that, but she’ll be surrounded by the rest of my staff once we reach Newport, so she truly has no need of your chaperoning services.”
“Are you uninviting me?” Abigail demanded.
“I didn’t realize I’d extended you an invitation in the first place.”
“This is going to be much more difficult than I anticipated,” Abigail mumbled. And right there and then, he finally understood exactly what the lady was up to.
Heat traveled up his neck and settled on his face. “I realize you must be feeling rather smug, given the outcome of the whole Oliver and Harriet business, Abigail. But you’re completely off the mark if you’re turning your matchmaking skills my way because—”
“You’re committed to Miss Dixon,” Millie finished for him, leaning forward to catch his eye, her leaning allowing him to see that her face had turned rather heated as well. “You’ll have to forgive Abigail, Everett, because she doesn’t seem capable of resisting the allure of matchmaking. Do know, though, that I’m fully aware of the fact that a nanny is never considered an appropriate option for a matchmaking scheme with someone of your social status.”
“I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear you say that,” he said, immediately regretting the words when Millie’s eyes narrowed and temper flashed through them. “I mean . . .” He stopped speaking when she raised a hand, cutting him off.
“There’s no need to say anything else, Mr. Mulberry, because, believe me, I understood exactly what you meant.” Millie rose to her feet. “And you should be further relieved to learn that I do not care to discuss this particular subject ever again.” She sent him a nod. “I’m, again, only a nanny, you’ll only ever be my employer, and . . .” She directed a nod Abigail’s way. “You’re destined to remain disappointed, at least in regard to your matchmaking plans for me. Now, if everyone will excuse me, I’m off to resume my duties as only the nanny, which entails . . . untying the children.”
With that, and with her head held high, Millie marched out of the room, leaving him all alone with an obviously disappointed and very disgruntled Abigail Hart.
5
Keeping a firm grip on Thaddeus with one hand, while pushing strands of hair soaked with sea mist away from her face with the other, Millie couldn’t help but wish she’d brought a spare cap with her. The one and only cap she’d thought would be sufficient for her trip to Newport had been whipped straight off her head minutes after she’d stepped foot on Everett’s yacht. That sad state of affairs was responsible for her being forced to drag unruly curls out of her eyes every other second, which was making it somewhat difficult to keep the children in constant view. Even though all of them were wearing oversized coats made out of cork, she certainly wasn’t going to relax her guard, especially since there’d been so much talk of late of her allowing children to drown.
It truly was unfortunate that Everett had abandoned the deck almost as soon as they’d pulled away from shore. From what she’d been able to tell, he was in possession of a very fine set of what she’d been told were “sea legs,” those legs being something that would have come in remarkably handy at the moment, given the slightly turbulent nature of the sea. But since Everett had been doing his utmost best to keep his distance from her, and keep a safe distance from Abigail as well, it was now left to Millie to keep the children firmly out of the sea. That was why she currently had a death grip on Thaddeus, who was turning out to be quite the typical little boy—even while wearing a frock of brightest purple—and a little boy who certainly didn’t enjoy the notion of doing anything as dull as actually standing still.
“Look starboard, children. It’s a whale,” Abigail called out.
Having no idea what direction starboard was, Millie glanced to where Abigail was now pointing, smiling at the sight of the older woman holding Rosetta’s hand and laughing at something the little girl was saying. Abigail’s cheeks were red from the breeze, and her eyes were sparkling, and for once, not sparkling with speculation.
Although Abigail had mortified Millie to the very tips of her toes the day before with her less-than-subtle matchmaking attempt, Millie really didn’t have the heart to stay annoyed with the woman for any great length of time. And even though the whole matchmaking debacle had been exactly that—a debacle—it had at least given Millie an honest glimpse into Everett’s true character.
By being so quick to agree with her assessment concerning their different stations in life, he had allowed her to understand that even though he was certainly handsome and debonair, and charming upon occasion, he was at heart . . . a snob.
Generations of Mulberrys increasing the family coffers at every turn had obviously been responsible for giving Everett his not uncommon sense of entitlement. And even though she’d witnessed snobbery from almost all of the society families she’d worked for, she’d found herself surprisingly disappointed with Everett for being exactly what society expected him to be, a man with—
“Look, there’s another whale,” Thaddeus yelled as he tugged his arm out of her grip right as the yacht caught a swell, rose into the air, and then dropped.
Millie lost her balance and plummeted toward the deck even as she tried to keep a grip on Thaddeus’s cork jacket. The sea mist had made it slippery, and she felt her fingers clutching nothing but air right as she hit the hard surface. The yacht rose again, and Thaddeus began sliding straight for the railing, but then Elizabeth was right next to him, pulling him to safety.
Lurching to her feet, Millie stumbled as quickly as she could to Elizabeth’s side. “Forgive me, Elizabeth. I fear my wobbly legs got the best of me, but thank goodness you were able to react so swiftly.”
“I would have watched over Thaddeus from the very beginning if you’d told me you weren’t steady on your feet.”
“If I’d known you were so comfortable on a boat, I probably would have asked you to do just that.”
Elizabeth’s lips thinned before she marched Thaddeus over to where Abigail and Rosetta were now sitting on some chairs and made sure her brother was safely situated next to Abigail before she marched back to Millie. “My father owned a yacht, and since he and my mother enjoyed traveling, I spent a lot of time on it, and that’s . . .” Elizabeth stopped speaking, as if she’d just realized she’d broached a subject she didn’t care to talk about.
Resisting the urge to scoop Elizabeth into a hug, Millie forced a smile instead. “I think after we get settled in Newport, we should have your Uncle Everett send for your father’s yacht. That way, you and your siblings can enjoy the use of it over the summer.”
“My father’s yacht is gone.”
“What do you mean . . . gone?”
“It disappeared.”
“I’m not sure I understand how an entire yacht can disappear,” Millie said slowly.
Elizabeth shrugged. “I don’t understand either, but it wasn’t where it was supposed to be after the . . . funeral.” One lone tear began trailing down Elizabeth’s cheek, a tear she quickly dashed away. “I went all the way down to the docks just to look at it because . . .” She stopped talking again, drew in a ragged breath, and squared her small shoulders. “It wasn’t anchored in its usual place, so I checked every dock, but it wasn’t anchored at any of them either. I think Mr. Mulberry might have sold it.”
Millie narrowed her eyes. “I highly doubt Everett would have sold your fa
ther’s yacht, especially during that particular time, but . . . let us move on to a more disturbing matter. What do you mean, you went down to the docks, and with whom did you go down there?”
“I don’t think my pony can be considered a whom, Miss Longfellow.”
Millie stiffened. “Are you telling me that you, a girl of eight, rode your pony all by yourself down to the New York City docks so that you could look for your father’s yacht?”
“Of course not. I went to the Boston docks, since that’s where we lived before Mr. Mulberry made us move to New York.”
A million questions flooded Millie’s mind. “Where was your Uncle Everett or your nanny when you made this little jaunt to the docks?”
“Mr. Mulberry was off trying to track down Daddy’s attorney, and my nanny, Miss Oglestein, was packing her bags to go off with another family who’d swooped in right before the funeral and stole her away from us.” Another tear dribbled down Elizabeth’s cheek, but this one she ignored. “Miss Oglestein didn’t want to leave Boston, and she didn’t even care that we were going to be all on our own, with a new house and no one to love us.”
The sight of Elizabeth’s lip, now trembling ever so slightly, had Millie longing to reassure the child that she’d never abandon them, but she knew Elizabeth would hardly be receptive to that promise at the moment. “It was not acceptable in the least for this Miss Oglestein to abandon you and your siblings, Elizabeth. Although that certainly explains why you’re so opposed to nannies.”
“Does that mean you’re going to go away now?”
“Well, no. But getting back to Everett—why was he out searching for your father’s attorney?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “All I know is that Mr. Victor, my father’s attorney, was not in Boston at the time of my parents’ accident. I think Mr. Mulberry was trying to find out where Mr. Victor had gone so that he could see if it was possible to get someone else to take over our care.”