Rules for Reforming a Rake (4 page)

What had happened to change him? He’d been a wonderful boy, if Eloise was to be believed. She’d spoken often of Gabriel’s youthful love of adventure, of his good nature and his valor. He’d even had a tender heart, particularly when it came to defenseless animals. Trent Hall, it seemed, became an infirmary for every stray cat, dog, bird, lamb, and frog whenever young Lord Gabriel was in residence.

“You have it in your power to make things right, my lord. You can be as good and kind as you once were.” She mildly grieved for the loss of his precious, boyish innocence.

He didn’t appear to be in the least moved by her words. “Is that so?”

She blushed, knowing she was being impertinent and meddlesome. Ah, yes. Meddling was a Farthingale trait. It’s what got her into trouble in the first place and led to The Incident. “Of course. Don’t you wish to be?”

“Do you want an honest answer?”

Something in his glib manner rankled her. She didn’t wish to be rude, but she’d had a miserable day and this arrogant man was doing his best to make it worse. “No,” she said with an exasperated roll of her eyes. “I wish to be lied to. Isn’t it every girl’s dream?”

She made no effort to hide her sarcasm, but now regretted that she might have overstepped the proper bounds. He was Eloise’s grandson, after all. What was wrong with her today? She ought to have left well enough alone. A politely insincere “nice to meet you” would have sufficed. Or she might have made a passing comment about the slight family resemblance between him and his grandmother.

He’d just saved Harry. For that alone she ought to have been nice to him.

Instead of being angry, Gabriel let out a slow, devastatingly appealing grin. “I suppose I deserved that. As you may have heard,” he said, glancing at Eloise, “I’m not known for my manners. My brother is though. I think I’ll leave duty and honor to Alexander for now. However, thank you for worrying about me, Miss Farthingale. Few people do.”

She shook her head in confusion. “Why would I worry about you?” In truth, she’d just insulted him.

“I don’t know, but it appears you are.” He glanced down.

Daisy followed his gaze, only to realize she had somehow put her hand on his arm. Worse, she was caressing him along the expanse of solid muscle. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that. It just seemed the natural thing to do. Yes, well... I’ll pull away now.”

But putting thought to action was not so easy when one was a simpleton and one’s heart was madly thumping through one’s ears. Why was her heart still thumping for this reprobate? His brother was the man she needed to marry. He’d said it himself, Alexander was the dutiful son. The worthy son. Finally, to her great humiliation, Gabriel took gentle hold of her hand and pried her fingers off his forearm one by one.

“Join me for supper tonight,” Eloise called after her, but she was too busy dashing out of the house to answer.

***

“Miss Daisy, will you please untie me?”

Daisy glanced around the elegant Farthingale entry hall, searching for the body that went with the voice. She finally found it securely tied to the mahogany coatrack. “Pruitt! What have they done to you?”

She quickly untied their butler and helped him to shake the circulation back into his arms and legs. “Oh, this has gone from bad to worse! Where are the little heathens now?”

“I don’t know, but I heard Cook scream a few moments ago. I hope they haven’t tied her to the spit and roasted her like a stuffed pig.”

Daisy hoped they hadn’t either.

Yet Mrs. Mayhew was not the sort to surrender without a fight, and she had weapons at her disposal. A rolling pin, knives, mallets, meat forks. Yes, she could hold off a frontal assault for hours.

While Pruitt went through the house to check on the rest of the staff, Daisy hurried down the stairs to the kitchen, then came to an abrupt halt. The large room, usually bustling with activity, appeared deserted. All was quiet. Too quiet for this time of day.

The children had been here, she could tell, for the floors, walls, and worktables were covered in a white powder. A week’s supply of flour gone, just like that. Could Mrs. Mayhew have been dispatched as quickly?

Daisy raised her skirts and was beginning to tiptoe across the debris left on the floor when she heard a giggle coming from the servants’ dining alcove. She crept closer and peered around the corner. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven children plus Mrs. Mayhew and her two assistants, sitting around the table, as calm as you please.

All unharmed.

All present and accounted for.

She watched the children eagerly digging into freshly made apple tarts. “Thank you, Mrs. Mayhew,” she said with a giddy sigh and stepped forward. “You’re a marvel.”

The stocky, middle-aged woman glanced up with a smile. “No trouble at all, Miss Daisy. The children were very helpful.”

Daisy shook her head and laughed, pointing in the direction of the flour-covered floor. “I couldn’t help but notice.”

Mrs. Mayhew waved her hand as if to dismiss her concerns. “The scullery girls will clean that up, quick as a trice.”

Daisy glanced around. “Oh, dear. About those girls, where are they now? Safe, I hope.”

“They are,” she assured with another wave of her hand. “I’ve sent them off to buy more flour and some other supplies.”

Daisy breathed another sigh of relief. “I’ll take over tending the children. I know you must have your hands full preparing the family supper.”

“Soup’s ready and bubbling on the hearth. The meat’s in the oven, simmering in its own juices. Pies are cooling on the window ledge. All we have left to cook are the vegetables. Everything’s in ship-shape order, thanks to the menus you prepared in advance for us.”

“I’m glad it worked out.”

“The meals are simple to make, yet present quite elegantly. Ye’re doing a fine job of running the household, Miss Daisy.”

“Um, I’m not really in charge, Mrs. Mayhew,” she said with a modest shake of her head. “Mother is the lady of the house.”

“She may be, but ye’re the heart of this house, always looking out for everyone, getting things done and never taking credit. If ye ask me, ye’ve more than made amends for—”

Daisy knew she was going to mention The Incident and hastily changed the topic. “We’ll discuss it later. Perhaps in a few months when our guests have all returned to their homes. However, I’d like to discuss something of greater importance. Are your nieces still visiting?”

“Indeed they are. As a matter of fact, they’re enjoying London so much, they’d like to stay on permanently.” Mrs. Mayhew pursed her lips and frowned lightly. “I’ll have to find work for them, though I haven’t had the time to attend to it.”

“Perfect! Consider it done. Would they be willing to watch children? I mean, just until suitable nannies can be found.”

The older woman glanced up in surprise. “They know how to tend children, that’s for sure. They helped me raise my five boys after my husband died and did a fine job of it. But they don’t come from genteel families. They’re not the sort one would look for in a nanny. True, they speak softly and are well-mannered. I was hoping your mother might take them in as housemaids should the positions become available.”

Daisy folded her arms across her chest as a plan formed in her mind. “I’m certain we’ll have many openings before this month is through. In the meantime, your nieces would do me a great service by helping me with the children. I desperately need assistance and don’t mind that they can’t read the Greek classics or speak as finely as the Queen. We’ll regain two of the Farthingale nannies by the end of the week, and I expect they’ll want to keep your nieces on.”

“Thank you, Miss Daisy. They’ll be quite pleased.”

“Have them report to me first thing tomorrow morning. And... ah, no sense burdening Mother with the little details. I’ll instruct Mrs. Taft to add them to the list of household retainers.”

Daisy allowed the children to finish their treats before marching them up to her room and instructing them to wash their hands. She turned the chore of washing into a game that even Harry enjoyed. Then she sat the youngest children on her bed, pulled up a chair, and began to tell them a story.

“Can we listen, too?” her twelve-year-old cousin, Lizbeth, the eldest of the children, asked.

“Of course.” She waved her hand, motioning for the older ones to come closer, which they did with squeals and giggles. This small band of older cousins ranged in age from nine to twelve and were still considered too young to be allowed in the company of adults. They were at that awkward age, too young for more sophisticated conversation and too old to be forced to play with the younger children. She was pleased when they scooted closer, eager to listen to her read a story to the little ones.

“Tell us about the gentleman you met today,” Lizbeth said, tossing back her blonde curls while taking a seat next to her.

Daisy felt the heat of a blush creep up her neck. Goodness, how much had the children seen? “Oh, I don’t think—”

“Please, please, please!” Lizbeth persisted, an eager sparkle in her green eyes. “Harry met him, too.” She was joined by the others in a chorus of begging.

Daisy let out a soft groan. “Very well.”

Lizbeth cheered. “Harry liked him. We saw him hug the man.”

She wondered what else her cousins had seen Harry do to the man. “Yes, well...”

“He seemed very nice. Is he a war hero?” Lizbeth cast her an impish grin.

“What’s that?” four-year-old Charles asked with a sniffle, because it was a well-known fact that all little boys had runny noses. It mattered not if they were the offspring of a duke or a dustman. If they were little, their noses ran.

“Someone who’s very brave,” Lizbeth answered.

“The gentleman’s name is Lord Gabriel Dayne and he’s not a war hero, but his brother, Alexander, is one. I’m sure Alexander saved the lives of many young men and made lots of families very happy.”

“Was Uncle Harrison with him?” Charles asked, referring to Harry’s father, who had died in battle last year.

“Unfortunately, no.” She glanced worriedly at Harry, but he seemed to be fine for the moment. “Alexander and Gabriel are grandsons of our neighbor.”

“Grandmama Eloise?” Harry asked with a sniffle, his nose also perpetually running. Daisy withdrew the handkerchief tucked in her sleeve and efficiently cleaned his pudgy face.

“Yes,” she answered with a nod. Eloise had been wonderfully generous with the boy, often allowing Daisy to bring him along on her afternoon visits. Harry had grown quite attached to their kindly neighbor. “Lord Gabriel has been sick for a very long time—”

“But he got better,” Lizbeth said, punctuating her sentence with a squeal. “He looks very big and strong.”

“Yes, Lizbeth.” Daisy felt another jolt of heat rise in her cheeks as she recalled the firm hands that had gripped her shoulders and the powerful muscles bulging beneath his borrowed shirt.

“Who’s very big and strong?” asked Daisy’s youngest sister, Dillie, as she strode into the room without so much as a knock. She threw off her gloves and hat, then plunked down on the bed beside the little ones.

Daisy shook her head and laughed. “Hello, Dillie. Did you come back with Mother?”

“No, she took Aunt Julia and the rest of our female relations to visit Rose. Laurel joined them, but Lily and I decided we’d had enough of their jibber-jabber and asked to be dropped off at home.” Dillie, always pert and animated, began to make clucking sounds and funny faces in imitation of their female relatives.

The children broke into giggles. Soon, they were all off the bed and following Dillie about the room like chicks marching after the mother hen. “Daisy, a thought just struck me. Why are all the children in your room? Where are the nannies?”

“Hadn’t you noticed? They’ve all left us, though two should be back by the end of the week.”

Dillie’s eyes grew wide and her mouth gaped open. “Crumpets! Who’s been watching the children all this time?”

Daisy waited for her to pass close on her turn about the room. “I have. Mrs. Mayhew and Pruitt have helped.”

“Does Mother know? Wait, don’t answer. Of course, she doesn’t. She doesn’t even remember giving birth to you, me, or Lily. Her patience wore out after Rose and Laurel.”

“You’re not being fair,” Daisy said, stifling a grin, for her sister’s assessment was accurate. Their mother had simply been overwhelmed after giving birth to the first two daughters. It wasn’t her fault really. “Managing a household as large as this one isn’t easy, especially when it’s constantly filled to the rafters with guests.”

Dillie stopped in front of her, flapped her arms, and clucked. “Though you try to hide it, I know that you have been the one in charge of this household since Rose got married. Laurel was too busy grooming her horses to care, and Lily and I were too young. But more important, who is big and strong?”

“Lord Gabriel Dayne,” Lizbeth interjected.

“He’s a wart hero,” Charlie added, his big, brown eyes widening as a mark of his earnestness.

“His brother, Alexander, is a
war
hero,” Daisy corrected. “Lord Gabriel doesn’t have warts, just a few scars.”

“In very manly places, I imagine,” Dillie said with a smirk.

“Dillie!”

“Is he handsome?” she asked, still smirking. “He must be. Your eyes have turned limpid.”

Daisy held back a gasp. Oh, dear! Was she that obvious? “What you see is pity for poor Eloise. She’s had to endure his outrageous conduct.”

Dillie wasn’t anywhere near finished with her interrogation. “Did you talk to him? When did you meet him?”

Dillie’s twin, Lily, walked into the room just then. The pair were identical and even Daisy had trouble telling them apart at times. Lily was quieter, sometimes wore spectacles that hid her sparkling blue eyes, and always carried a book. Dillie’s eyes, if one looked very closely, were a slightly softer shade of blue. Lily was studious and earnest while Dillie, also a clever girl, had a delightful tendency toward mischief. “Whom did you meet who’s very handsome and doesn’t have warts?” Lily asked.

Daisy sighed. “Come join us. You may as well hear about my most embarrassing moments.”