by Dawn Brower
“I’m a bit nervous.” She squeezed her hands together. What if Bethany hated her?
“Of meeting the little lady of the house?” He turned Duff around the house, to the back where the servant’s entrance was located. “She’s anticipated your arrival since Camprich told her he’d hired a new governess. She’s been a-dither with excitement to learn whatever it is you plan to teach her.”
“That’s good news.”
A man came out to greet them. Straight and tall, he wore a dark suit over his tall frame. It matched his impassive expression. He neither seemed delighted nor relieved to see them. “Mr. Nash.”
“Martin.” Mr. Nash touched the brim of his hat. “This is Miss Strange. Miss Strange, James Martin, the lord and lady’s butler. From here he’ll take you to Miss Bethany.”
“Martin. Very good to meet you.”
He offered his hand to help her down from the dogcart. “I’ll handle transferring your things to your room. Let’s get you settled before your introduction to Miss Bethany.”
She faced Mr. Nash. “Thank you for the ride. It was enjoyable and informative.”
“Happy to help.” He climbed out of the cart. “I’ll unload the trunks for you, Martin, then take Duff back to the stable.”
“I’ll take my valise now, please.” She rounded the rear of the cart and pulled it from the back.
“Thank you. Come this way, Miss Strange.” Martin led her to the house.
She cast a look back at Mr. Nash. He lifted one of the trunks, then set it on the ground.
He raised his gaze to her and nodded.
Martin got the door for her. “We have a room made up for you. I’m sorry the lord and lady couldn’t be here to greet you, but they had a pressing matter in France to attend. I’m sure they’ll write soon. They do like to keep in touch with Miss Bethany. Her previous governess helped her compose letters back to them.”
“Why not take her with them?”
“It’s not for me to question why or why not. I simply fulfill my role here as my employer wishes. This way.”
They continued through the mudroom, down a hall to a staircase. The servants’ area of the house was rather dull. Plain wood floors without carpeting. Plaster walls rather than papered. She’d been in the Easton’s servants’ area many times, but never noticed the contrast between the higher living her former employers enjoyed compared to that of the servants.
“I’ll be coming in and out with Miss Bethany in the future.” Best to establish that from the beginning. She wasn’t of the same peerage as her charge, but she was no chambermaid either.
“Of course, Miss.”
Up the staircase and down another hall. Sunlight gushed through windows on either end of the house. Not a speck of dust or a smudge stained the glass.
Martin opened a dark oak door with a sparkling glass doorknob. “This should be suitable. Please have a look around and let us know if there’s anything we can do to make it more comfortable. Mrs. Lusk is the housekeeper. She should be along shortly.” He made a small bow, then departed.
The walls were papered with lavender and grey-striped silk. The devut spread across the wide bed matched along with the heavy drapes. Elegant, feminine, and yet, depressing. The colors matched many of the dresses in Jayne’s trunks. They were made to blend in, to be unnoticeable.
On the vanity, a small vase with a spray of forsythia and daffodils brightened the room. Beneath it, a note read, Welcome, Miss Strange in childish scrawl.
“How sweet.”
The wash stand held a pitcher with cool water. Jayne washed her face, then tamed the flyaway hairs that gave her a disheveled appearance. She scrubbed grit from her fingers.
“As good as I’ll ever be.” Her lips formed the words, reflected in the mirror.
The upper lip was too thin to provide a proper Cupid’s bow. The lower was all right. Not a mouth made for kissing, as Lizette had pointed out one night. Her face was diamond-shaped, with a healthy widow’s peak at the top. Too angular to be pretty. Fortunately, her eyes were set apart. Boring grey, like the wallpaper, but they might have been dung-colored. She pinched her cheeks for a bit of color.
“Nothing fancy, only Plain Jayne.”
She’d been a schoolmate and playmate for Lady Lizette Easton since she was twelve years old. Surely even Plain Jayne could manage to mold a young girl into a proper lady. If she was lucky, her position here might last until Bethany was in her teens.
Lord Easton’s quiet words to his wife rang between Jayne’s ears. “She’s not much to look at, but she certainly made our Lizette shine.”
Those words stung and she recalled them every day since her departure from London. Not everyone could be a great beauty, but she had valuable knowledge to pass on to Miss Bethany. She had brightened Lizette’s life too. If she couldn’t be pretty, at least she was useful.
Someone knocked on the door.
“Come in.” Jayne rose from the vanity.
A woman in a black dress and spotless white apron and cap entered. Her dark blonde hair had a few grey stripes through it. Old enough to be Jayne’s mother—had anyone known who she was. She stood straight and proud, but her face was warm and open. “Miss Strange, welcome to Camprich Manor. I’m Emily Lusk. I hope the room is satisfactory. The footmen should be along with your trunks any time. I would be delighted to help you unpack. Is there anything I can get you while you wait?”
“A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Lusk. Thank you for the lovely welcome. I’m fine. Just anxious to meet Miss Bethany.”
“Soon enough. She was lunching in the nursery a few moments ago. I could bring a tray for you if you like.”
“I should eat. It wouldn’t do to get faint in front of her.” She should really take the crumbled scone from her handbag as well. “But please don’t go through any trouble for me. A sandwich will suffice.”
“We have a hearty beef stew as well.”
“Tempting.” Jayne smiled. “I accept.”
“I’ll return in a moment. Perhaps after lunch, Miss Bethany will give you a tour of the house and grounds. She’s quite fond of the gardens and the stables. Her former governess took her out of doors for lessons on days much like this.”
“It sounds delightful.” Jayne reclaimed her seat at the vanity. What if she ran into Mr. Nash again?
Don’t be silly, Jayne. He was friendly on the drive here. It doesn’t mean he wants to see you.
The voice in her head sounded awfully like Lizette.
“Does Miss Bethany ride?” She lifted her gaze to Mrs. Lusk’s blue eyes.
“She has a pony. On pleasant afternoons, Mr. Nash has been known to give her riding lessons.” Mrs. Lusk inclined her head. “I’ll return soon with your lunch.”
“Very good.”
Mrs. Lusk departed.
Jayne took a deep breath. “You can do this. You were brought up in an excellent household with the best governess. A fine piano teacher. A painting tutor. You can play the flute. There is no reason to be afraid of a ten-year-old child.”
“Actually, I won’t be ten for two months.”
The high-pitched voice made Jayne jump. “Oh, my.”
Standing her doorway, wearing a pink dress with a cream-colored pinafore and a large pink bow at the end of her very bright red hair, stood Miss Bethany Camprich.
Chapter 2
Fletcher wiped sweat from his brow. He’d cooled and groomed Duff to take some of the load off the other hostlers who had added work today thanks to this morning’s mishap.
Duff, bless him, was the tamest horse in the stable besides Fletcher’s own palomino gelding shipped here straight from Texas. Oro grazed in a paddock with Miss Bethany’s pony, Little Dan, well away from Camprich’s prized mares. Like the servants, it seemed horses lacking in pedigree weren’t important enough to mingle with the high-bred stock.
Fletcher patted Duff’s neck, then led him to the paddock with Oro and Little Dan.
The pony raised his head when he heard t
he latch open. He let out a whinny that Duff answered.
“Good boy.” Fletcher patted the horse on the rump as it walked through the gate.
“Mr. Nash.” Galen, one of the youngest stable boys, jogged across the ground to Fletcher’s side. “I noticed Jenny limping. When I caught her, she had blood running down her right front leg on the inside. Looks as though she got herself a big splinter.”
Well, damn. It had been too much to hope those bone-headed mares would come through their adventures unscathed. “Bring her around to the water pump.”
“Yes, sir.”
Fletcher headed for the stables as the boy trotted off. In the tack room, he mixed petroleum jelly and phenol into a paste. “It had to be Jenny.”
The blood bay mare was as handsome as they came, light and delicate-looking, but she was a fighter. Known for her bite, cleaning and dressing her wound was going to be one exciting experience.
He collected the paste and a clean rag in a bucket, then headed outside.
Galen and Jenny stood feet apart, giving each other wary looks.
“She knows you’re afraid.” He emptied the bucket, then pumped water into it. “Hold her firmly. She kicks me, you’re going to be following Richard down the road. I’m in no mood to be kicked today.”
“Yes, sir.” Galen took Jenny by the halter.
She jerked her head and tried to back up as Fletcher approached with his sloshing bucket.
“Hold her tight. I mean it.”
“I’m trying, sir.”
Fletcher kneeled by her front legs.
Jenny pranced, her eyes wide and nostrils flared.
“Whoa, girl. I know it hurts. This isn’t going to help any, not yet, but you’ll thank me later.” He pressed his hand to her chest.
She stilled.
Fletcher reached beneath her. As Galen had reported, a big chunk of wood protruded from the inside of the mare’s forearm. “Sorry, sister.” He grabbed the wood and yanked.
Jenny rose on her hind legs. Her knee caught him in the chest and pushed him backward.
Fletcher sprawled in the dirt, the wind knocked out of him.
The mare’s feet hit the ground next to his head.
He covered his head, but she wasn’t paying attention to him anymore so much as trying to get away from Galen, who fought to hold the mare in place.
“Mr. Nash!”
He lowered his arms. The knock to his ribs throbbed, but not bad enough that anything might be broken. It felt like he’d been hit with a mallet. She’d surprised him, but he’d live.
“Are you all right?”
Miss Strange held Bethany back from the scene. She gripped the girl by the shoulders. Both of them wore worried frowns and their foreheads creased with concern.
Fletcher got to his feet, but pressed his hand to his ribcage. “I’m fine. Better off than Jenny, probably. I still have work to do on her. The two of you should probably get back just to be on the safe side.”
“Isn’t there anything we can do to help?” Bethany, tall for her age and thin as a stick, peered at Jenny with eyes as blue as morning glories. “She’s only frightened because she’s in pain.”
“Much as I appreciate the offer, there’s nothing you can do here, darlin’. It’s going to get uglier before it gets better, I’m afraid.”
Although she was his superior, he’d dropped the endearment on Bethany the first time she’d come down to the stables to meet him. Like Miss Strange, the little girl had a fascination with America, particularly Texas, and every drawling word that came from Fletcher’s mouth. He’d been the one to pick Little Dan out for her at an auction. Fortunately, her parents approved of her learning to ride and she spent a great deal of time down here when she wasn’t at regular lessons.
He met Miss Strange’s gaze. Grey eyes like storm clouds were wide in her pale face. Her hair, a blondish-brown brought to mind the mane of a sooty chestnut mustang he’d once gentled back home. Not quite blonde, not quite brown. Unusual. Her features didn’t lend any meaning to the word pretty, but gave her a strong, rather solemn appearance.
“We’ll come back another time, Miss Bethany. Let’s return to the gardens.” Miss Strange gripped Bethany’s hand.
Bethany stood firm. “I’d like to stay and watch.”
“Stand over by the barn then. I don’t want you to get hurt.” He pointed at the stone wall of the stable. “Galen, you’ve got to hold Jenny tighter. If you can’t do it, get Samuel. You know what, get Samuel anyway. I want both of you holding her.”
“Yes, sir.”
Fletcher took her halter as Galen went in search of the other stable hand.
“Did she get injured when she got out this morning, Mr. Nash?” Bethany squinted at the bloodied part of Jenny’s leg. “She’ll be all right, though, won’t she?”
“We’re going to fix her up as well as we can.”
Bethany edged closer.
Miss Strange knotted her hands together and gave the horse an apprehensive look.
“Are you frightened of horses, Miss Strange?”
She tore her gaze away from Jenny. “Not frightened as much as I don’t know much about them. I was a companion in my last employment. She didn’t care for horses.”
“You must meet Little Dan.” Bethany’s face brightened. “He’s the gentlest of ponies. Mr. Nash can go out to the paddock right this minute and yank Little Dan’s tail. He’ll never even stop grazing. You can do anything with my pony and he’s perfectly content.”
“It doesn’t seem very wise to yank a pony’s tail.” Miss Strange’s mouth flattened. “Please don’t attempt it yourself.”
“It was a test to see what he could tolerate. I’d never want to pull his tail. That’s cruel.” Bethany frowned. “He’s well-treated. I wouldn’t allow anything else. I care for him very much. While I can’t wait to grow up and have a full-sized horse, I will hate to give him up.”
Fletcher rubbed Jenny’s neck. “You’ve got time yet. I’ll find you a good horse when you’re of age. For now, enjoy Little Dan.”
Samuel and Galen came to the yard. They each took one side of Jenny’s halter.
Fletcher got to his knees again. “One more time, Jenny-girl. Be a little kinder to me, huh?”
Samuel was bigger than Galen, stronger and more confident with the horses. He gave Fletcher a nod.
He reached between her front legs and began cleaning the wound. It hadn’t festered yet and the blood flowed thick for a few moments. Beneath the blood, the cut was nearly over an inch long, and deep. Hopefully the paste he’d made up would help it close.
Jenny squirmed and tried to bite Galen, but Samuel pulled her head back. Her tail swished with annoyance.
“Almost done cleaning. Nearly there.” Fletcher dabbed at the wound a final time. Since it had stopped bleeding, it only appeared a little ragged. “Let’s put the ointment on, then you’re free to go, girl.”
She tossed her head as much as she could when he touched the injury with his fingers.
“Does it burn, Mr. Nash?” Bethany’s worried voice carried.
“Maybe a little. Same as when you get a scrape and your governess put phenol on it. It stops after a while, doesn’t it?” He smeared ointment across the broken skin, then got to his feet. “We’ll check it this evening before you bring her in. Same thing tomorrow morning. Keep any eye on her for swelling or drainage.”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry that she knocked you down. She’s a handful, this one. I should have gotten Samuel from the start. She’s always responded better to him.” Galen held the mare, but didn’t meet Fletcher’s eyes. “I understand if you want me to go.”
“It wasn’t your finest moment, Galen, but she didn’t kick me so much as just knock me down. You can stay. Turn her out, then get back to work.”
“Thank you, sir.” Galen led the mare away.
Fletcher gathered his things. “Is Bethany giving you the grand tour?”
Miss Strange nodded. “She’s showing me ev
erything I could possibly need to see around the manor.”
“You keep Miss Strange out of trouble, darlin’. We both know there’s plenty to be had around here.” He grinned at the girl. “Next time you want to go for a ride, we’ll saddle up Oro and put Miss Strange on his back. Teach her how the cowboys do it in Texas.”
“Oh, no. No thank you. I’m perfectly fine on the ground.” Miss Strange’s face colored. “Kind of you, but no.”
“We’ll have to see if we can’t change your mind. I have to take this back inside, but would you like me to catch Little Dan?”
Bethany held up the sugar cubes she’d tucked into her pockets. “No, I brought him a treat, but there’s no need to catch him today. There’s still so much to show Miss Strange. Tomorrow would be better for all of us.”
Her giggle and the cheerful smile sent a pang stabbing into Fletcher’s heart. He rubbed the center of his chest, where Jenny had hit him, but the injury ran a lot deeper than bone.
“Are you all right, Mr. Nash? You look like you’re in pain.” Miss Strange approached. “Should I fetch help?”
“It’s nothing. I’ve got to keep moving. The work around the stables is never done. You two enjoy your visit with Little Dan.” He wagged his finger at Bethany. “Don’t let me catch you feeding sugar cubes to Oro. You’ll spoil him.”
She giggled. “I can’t help it if he sneaks in and steals one, can I?”
“Ladies, enjoy your afternoon.” He tipped his hat at Miss Strange and headed for the stable.
“Perhaps we should wait to visit the horses until Mr. Nash can accompany us to the paddock. I’m not comfortable walking around them.”
“I go around them all the time. The tame ones, anyway. Duff and Oro and Little Dan. They’re the three best animals here. I know to stay away from the mares and the two stallions. Mr. Nash helped Papa select them from auction. They were race horses. Very fast ones. Papa wants to raise them here.”
“I’m sure between your papa and Mr. Nash, they will be the finest horses in all of England. However, I’d rather not meet any of them at this time. Let’s head back to the garden. There’s still plenty to see there, I think.”
