The boy looked up and Kate saw that he was a boy of about eight or nine, the same age as her nephew, Nate, or close to it. And if she wasn’t mistaken, he was also Harrowby’s nephew. She’d seen him from a distance a time or two when they were cleaning the fourth floor where the nursery was located but hadn’t actually seen him up close before. She tried to recall if anyone had mentioned his name, but didn’t think anyone had. However, he was blond and adorable, just like her nephew and Kate couldn’t stop the smile that came to her lips when he just shrugged and looked back at the rod.
“You’re going to knot the line if you keep reeling it in like that,” Kate offered, her smile sliding away when she noted the sad expression on his face.
He looked skeptically at the line and back at her. Kate could see he was interested in what she said, but still he offered no words.
“I could show you if you like.”
He raised his brows in an expression of such doubt that Kate almost laughed. “I know what you’re thinking,” Kate said amicably coming to his side. “Girls don’t fish. Am I right?”
His lips twisted just a bit in a shadow of a smile.
“I must say that I beg to differ with that opinion,” Kate went on. “When I was growing up, I went fishing with my dad most every weekend even in the winter.” Again, his brows went up and she could see that he wanted to say something but still he remained silent. “Yes, in the winter. Where I am from, we go ice fishing all the time. Do you ice fish here?”
He shook his head.
“You carve a hole through the ice and fish right through it. You’d think that would be pretty cold, right?”
He nodded and Kate chatted on, “No, you see we’d tow our own little house right out there on to the frozen lake with us to stay warm in and fish through a hole in the floor.”
Silence still but astonishment and disbelief shone in his wide eyes.
Kate laughed in amusement and held out her hand. “May I?”
After a moment, he handed her the rod and she took it, testing the reel for a few moments. Dad would be agog, she thought as she examined the brass reel and saw the name engraved on the side – J. F. & B. F. Meek. It was a beauty of a Kentucky multiplying reel and worth quite a lot where she came from. Her dad had a collection of old reels, scouted for them fanatically at antique shops and trade shows. He had one that was a Meek & Milam from about the 1860s but these older ones were rare and their price tag showed it. Of course, now this one showed little age though she knew, thanks to her dad, that they had stopped making them with that mark around 1850.
“Nice reel,” Kate told the boy and checked the bait before she drew back her arm and expertly cast the line far out into the pond. From the corner of her eye, she caught the awed expression on the little boy’s face and bit back a smile. Reeling it slowly in, careful to avoid the tall weeds that edged the shore, Kate drew out the line and cast it in again.
It went on that way for nearly ten more minutes before she said casually, “My name’s Kate. What’s yours?”
“Nathan.”
Kate swallowed deeply, her own smile wavering for a moment. What were the odds? “I have a nephew with the same name and I bet he’s about your age, too.”
“Really?” His voice was a little hoarse and Kate wondered if he had a cold.
“Yeah, but we call him Nate, though…sometimes.”
“My mother calls me that sometimes, too,” he admitted as he watched carefully how Kate slowly reeled in the line before casting it back into the water. “You can, too, if you like. Did you go fishing with your father a lot?”
“Yup, like I said, every weekend almost. I’m from Minnesota in America and it’s called the land of 10,000 lakes although there are a lot more than that. There are lakes everywhere. Mostly we’d just head up to Lake Minnetonka or Mille Lacs because they were close by, but during summer vacation we’d go up to where my grandparents lived and spend a week or two up at Lake Winnibigoshish.” Before he could say anything to that, Kate added, “And before you ask, I am not making that up. It’s an Indian name, most of the lakes up there are – like Pequot, Wayzata.”
The boy mouthed the words trying to repeat them and Kate grinned. “Sometimes we’d go fly fishing in the Big Fork River when the water wasn’t too high…”
“What is fly fishing?” Nathan interrupted.
“It’s casting out over the water like this.” Doing her best without a modern reel, Kate demonstrated the technique letting the hook arc over the water without dropping in. “Fish eat flies and other insects, you know? So, this is like tricking them into thinking there’s something up there for them to eat and they come to the surface to get it. But we didn’t do that very often. Dad is mostly a ‘sit in the boat and wait’ kind of guy. So we did a lot of casting and trolling. Not for trout too much. Dad’s not a trout guy. Great big Muskie, that’s what Dad likes.” Kate squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, thinking about her dad before blinking the tears away. “Dad just had girls, you see. So Mom got my older sister and Dad got me.”
“You call your father Dad?” Nathan asked.
“Sure, what do you call yours?” Kate asked absently.
“Papa,” the boy whispered. “But he’s dead now.”
Kate lowered the rod. “I’m sorry. I’d heard that. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Kate studied the sadness on the boy’s face sensing that the loss was a recent one. “Did he used to take you fishing?”
“Yes.” He shrugged in that way little boys do to show that they are manly and strong. Sympathetically, Kate put an arm around his shoulder and gave a brief squeeze. Long enough to comfort, but short enough not to embarrass him. “We used to fish a lot together. He said he was going to give me that reel when I got older, but he died and my mother let me have it.”
“So he never got a chance to show you how to use it then?” she asked. “I could show you if you like.” When he still looked skeptical, Kate reassured him. “I was a pretty huge tomboy when I was little…I did all kinds of things that usually only boys like to do because my Dad didn’t have a son to teach all those things to, so he taught me. I fished, camped and hunted since I was little. Mostly we’d camp in a tent, but on the longer trips, when my mom and my sister came along, we’d get a big cabin on Leech Lake with a nice beach for them to sit on while we fished.”
“Why did they call it that? Were there leeches in it?” he asked wide-eyed, not even thinking of questioning Kate any more as he saw the skill in her casting.
“Yes, yes there were,” Kate shuddered at the memory but she enjoyed his renewed smile knowing the topic was gruesome enough for a little boy to enjoy. “In fact, this one time when I was little I remember…”
A movement caught Kate’s attention from the corner of her eye and she turned to find Brand just a dozen feet away listening with a serious expression on his handsome face. Oh boy, the earl did not look happy, she thought. He was as rigid looking as she’d ever seen him, strung so tightly, Kate thought a strong wind might snap him in half. Even so, her heart leapt at the sight of him, up close and personal for the first time in days. Despite his air of solemnity, he still sent her senses reeling with awareness as wildly as they had each time she was in his presence. Forcing the feelings away, Kate straightened and solemnly handed the rod back to the boy.
“No, no, please don’t let my presence deter you from finishing your tale.” Harrowby shook his head and waved a hand at her. “What happened?”
“Yes, what happened?” Nathan piped in.
“We were there for a family reunion and I was wading in the lake with some of my cousins,” Kate went on, giving Harrowby a wary look. “When we came out, my legs were covered in little leeches from the knees down. I freaked out and screamed like a little baby until my mom calmed me down enough to let them get them off.”
“Did they pull them off?” Nathan asked with a wrinkled nose.
“No, in fact, my uncle used his cigarette to burn them off.” Kate couldn’t help the sh
udder that ran through her. “I don’t remember much more than that except that I kept thinking, very strangely, that they looked like watermelon seeds stuck to my legs but, I can tell you, I never went back in that lake again.”
Nate laughed wildly and even the earl bestowed a slight smile upon her.
“Will you show me again?” Nathan asked, gesturing to the fishing rod.
Kate raised a brow to the earl who nodded, his expression once again serious as he watched her with his nephew. Kate stood behind the little boy and showed him how to hold the rod before wrapping her hands over his. Several times, she guided the movements of his arms showing him how to cast the line with a flick of his wrist. Finally, she stood back to let him try on his own. He cast a few times with Kate giving him mild feedback until he did it correctly and turned a beaming smile on her.
Kate returned the gesture though she could feel Harrowby’s stare burning in her back. She gave Nathan a round of applause then caught the earl’s frown from the corner of her eye. She was right, Brand had his earl on and was looking pretty unhappy. She’d overstepped again, Kate knew. With it, there would no doubt be a price to pay.
“Uncle Brandon!” Nathan cried, running eagerly to Harrowby’s side. “Did you see it?”
“I did, Nathan.” Harrowby worked up a smile and tousled his nephew’s hair affectionately. The unbending earl was gone again, if only for a moment. “Well done, well done, but I fear I must cut your lesson short. Your mother and grandmother will be here shortly and I’ll need you to go up for a bath before they get here.”
“Awww!” Nathan whined in that age-old way little boys did when a bath was mentioned. “Must I?”
“I’m afraid you must.” Harrowby smiled down at the boy and Kate could see the warmth in his expression. “Give your thanks to Miss Kallastad and hurry along now.”
Nathan turned to her. “Thank you, Kate or rather Miss Kallastad. May we go fishing again soon?”
“We’ll see,” Kate prevaricated. “I have to work, you know. I’m a maid in your house but as soon as I have another morning off, we can if it’s okay with your uncle.”
Nathan cast pleading eyes up at Harrowby who said only, “As Miss Kallastad says, we’ll see. Run along now. I’ll bring your gear up with me.”
The boy trotted off with a wave, leaving Kate and the earl alone at the side of the pond. The earl watched him go, affection clearly stamped on his face. Kate shifted awkwardly from foot to foot for a moment before bobbing a curtsy. “I’m sure it’s about time for me to get back to work myself. Don’t want the Wicked Witch of the West catching me goofing off.”
Chapter Fourteen
The earl caught her arm as she moved past him. “A word if you would, Miss Kallastad.”
Kate cringed and swiveled back to face Harrowby trying to keep her gaze focused on the ground but her eyes just kept creeping upward of their own accord. Even as conservative as the earl appeared in his beige linen suit with his neatly done tie and fully buttoned striped waistcoat, he was devastating to her equilibrium. It had been a week since she’d talked to the earl in his study and several days since she’d seen him even from a distance. Just moments back in his company and already she could feel the magnetic pull that had drawn her to him that first night in the library.
It was startling to realize that she’d missed him, as silly as that sounded. They’d really had but one conversation that had started out pretty stiffly, but Brand had loosened up after a while and Kate had genuinely liked him, appreciated his honest admissions regarding his responsibilities. Perhaps it was just because he was male and she had so few friends here. All her life, the bulk of her friends had been boys and men, probably due to her tomboy upbringing, she’d simply always gotten along better with them. Though she liked Marta and the other maids, their chattering brand of friendship didn’t fulfill what she needed from her companions the way twenty minutes in Harrowby’s company had.
But now, she had crossed the line once again and was likely to get sacked for being so familiar with one of the earl’s family – a no-no according to Marta. “So, are you going to fire me this time?” she asked.
After a long moment of silence, the earl snorted. “Why is it you always think I’m on the verge of sacking you?”
“Because I’m insubordinate?” Kate offered, feeling the edge lift at his teasing.
“That you are,” he agreed, a slight smile softening the words. “I can think of no one else on this staff or any of my others who would have dared approach my nephew in such a way.”
“I’m…”
“Please, don’t say you’re sorry,” he stopped her words with a raised hand.
“So, if you’re not planning on firing me,” Kate said when he remained silent, looking down at her with that solemn expression that he’d worn since coming upon them, “what do you want?”
He was thinking very hard about what he wanted to say, that much was clear and Kate grew curious. Finally, he spoke, “I know you previously stated that you are well-educated in the sciences, chemistry and such. Are you educated in history as well?”
That certainly wasn’t what she was expecting. Kate’s brows rose at the question wondering why it was important. She had taken required courses in many different subjects over the course of her life, so she answered with a shrug. “I’ve taken classes, but it’s not my best subject. Why are you asking?”
“Mathematics?”
“Much better.”
“Literature?”
“Brand?”
“Languages?”
Kate sighed but just shook her head. “Just Spanish. Why?”
“Spanish?” he said with evident surprise, still not answering the real question. “Why would you learn Spanish before any other language?”
“What do you mean? What’s wrong with Spanish?”
“Ladies learn French, Italian, Greek, perhaps even Latin. You learn Spanish? Why?”
How to explain to him the multi-cultural blend of twenty-first century America? He wouldn’t understand that it would probably be necessary someday, when the minorities became the majority, for everyone in America to speak the language of their neighbors to the south. “Our housekeeper was from Mexico.” True enough and probably an answer that would keep further questions at a minimum.
She was wrong.
“You had a housekeeper?” he asked. “I would have assumed that given the remote location of your Minnesota that there would be few families…”
“My parents did pretty well for themselves. My mom was a VP at Pillsbury and my dad was a Dean at the William Mitchell Law College before he retired. He’s a state senator now.” Kate knew she was bragging, inappropriately so, but just couldn’t seem to help herself in the face of his surprise as if a family in the wilds of Minnesota couldn’t afford a housekeeper. Probably harder to believe, would be the fact that all the Kallastads considered their housekeeper, Milena, to be more family than employee.
“I thought you said your family was gone?”
“I thought I asked you what this was all about,” she shot back, not wanting the conversation to drift back to topics that she didn’t want to lie to him about.
“In good time,” he answered, knowing he was leaving both their questions unsatisfied. With a low grunt of displeasure, he reverted to his previous line of questioning. “How about art?”
Kate sighed again, getting a little frustrated with all his questions. “Do you mean ‘art’ as in ‘can I do it’? Or ‘art’ as in ‘do I know about it’?”
“Both.”
“Oh, then, no… to both.”
“Why didn’t you just say so when I asked?”
“Why are you asking?”
“Just tell me.”
“Well, just so you know this about me right off, I really hate to admit that there are things I cannot do.” A flush of embarrassment darkened Kate’s face. “I come from a long line of over-achievers. The simple fact that my older sister is a housewife causes no little contr
oversy in our home.”
The term ‘over-achiever’ puzzled Brand for a moment but he accepted her self-effacing comment, a smile finally softening his stern expression. “I will try to remember that. How about music then? Playing, not composing, of course.”
“I play the guitar pretty well. I did play the cello the high school orchestra but it’s been years since I’ve picked one up.”
Thrown off stride by her curious phraseology, Harrowby’s thought processes ground to a halt with her latest revelation. There were so many things about it that confused him about Kate, about the things she said, that he almost didn’t know which one to focus on. ‘High school’ in his experience was a Scottish institution and almost certainly couldn’t be the same establishment she spoke of. But more than that, he was struck by her admission of playing two instruments that were rarely played by women. Ladies simply did not place an instrument between their spread thighs. Again, like her education, she seemed to have had training that was not typical of her gender.
“Once more, why are you asking me all this, Brand?” Kate asked. “I can’t think why you’d need to know all that. It goes beyond the required skill-set of a maid, I think.”
Recalling himself to his purpose, the earl directed himself to the subject at hand. “Young Nathan is in need of a tutor. As you may have heard, his father – my sister’s husband – died many months ago and they will be staying with me for the time being. Also, he is my heir apparent until such time as I produce a son of my own.”
My, how clinical he made the production of a baby sound, Kate thought, then turned those thoughts to what he was really saying. Harrowby was asking her to tutor his nephew. Everything she’d learned about England in the 1870s told her that the nobility did not hire women for such a position and she told him as much adding, “So why ask me? Doesn’t he already have a tutor?”
“Mr. Scott has had little success with Nathan and has asked to be released from his position,” the earl answered cryptically.
Time Travel 02 Nothing but Time Page 9
