Her Rogue by Charlotte Russell

 

Chapter Three

Harriet slipped into the Rutledge Manor boot room just after ten o’clock. Her meeting with Benjamin—Bennett—oh, for heaven’s sakes. She blew out a breath as she removed her boots and pulled on an old pair of carpet slippers. Her meeting with Ben had lasted an hour, but afterward she’d gone for a long, hard ride. To clear her head. To regain her equilibrium. To remind herself what was at stake. She must tread carefully, as always, where her son was concerned.

Dusty and dirty as she was, Harriet elected to use the back stairs. A maid approached her before she’d climbed the first step.

“My lady? Lady Dunstan requests your presence in the Angel Parlour.”

Penelope. Harriet had managed to avoid her mother-in-law after the dance with Ben by claiming a headache and returning to Rutledge Manor early. Not before she’d seen the glowering looks Colonel Portman and Mr. Gaston had directed Ben’s way though, which made her wonder just how much money the gentlemen of Hatherden had riding on her first dance.

“Please tell Lady Dunstan I’ll attend her after I’ve changed,” Harriet told the maid.

There was no point in avoiding Penelope today. After taking whatever punishment her mother-in-law doled out, Harriet had to broach the subject of Ben tutoring the girls. Truly, one Bennett Fauntleroy was turning her world upside down. Not for a minute did Harriet believe he was searching for a stolen painting. She had a suspicion of what he might be after but she would not hand it over blindly. Ben needed to be more forthcoming about this mission.

After changing into a soft yellow morning gown, Harriet tiptoed up to the nursery. As soon as she poked her head around the door, little William dropped the wooden block he’d been playing with and toddled over, his cherubic smile once again melting her heart.

Harriet swept him into her arms and nuzzled his cheek while he kept up a mantra of “Mama, mama, mama.”

On her way to the chair by the window, Harriet smiled at the nurse over her shoulder. “Please tell the girls to be ready for our morning walk in one hour, Janie.”

The maid nodded and went across the hall to the schoolroom. Harriet settled into the chair with her son. He babbled delightedly about Kitty (his sister), kitty (his grey, furry nursery companion), and something else she couldn’t quite decipher while she stroked his dark hair. William, to both her heart’s dismay and joy, looked exactly like his father. He was an everyday reminder of Edward and never failed to make her smile. Only occasionally did Harriet succumb to a moment of heartache for all that she and her children had lost upon Edward’s death, not the least of which was that he had never even seen his look-a-like son, who had been born five months posthumously.

William laid his head on her shoulder. Harriet gently rocked him and patted his back, savoring these few minutes as they might be the last she’d have with her boy for a few days if Penelope and Mr. Saunders were angry enough.

Of course, a few minutes was all she had, for William was two and not inclined to be still for long. He soon wriggled his way off her lap and began to chase the cat around the room. Harriet managed to snatch him up and plant a kiss on his forehead before she had to leave him in the care of the nurse once again.

Out in the corridor she took a moment to breathe deeply and settle her mind before facing Penelope. Anger had never got her far in dealing with her mother-in-law. Reasonableness was beginning to seem futile as well, but at the moment it was all Harriet had.

In the Angel Parlour, so dubbed because of the angelic cherubs painted on the ceiling and carved into the mantel, Penelope sat on the velvet settee embroidering a handkerchief as if she hadn’t a care in the world. However, as soon as Harriet crossed the threshold, she carefully set aside her work and rose, folding her hands in front of her sprigged muslin skirts.

“I am sorry you had to leave the rout early last night, Harriet. Apparently, that dance was too much for you.” Penelope tilted her head to the side and waited expectantly.

That dance was the best thing to have happened to Harriet in at least a fortnight. She’d been stifled for far too long. Penelope might be giving her an opening to apologize but that same spark of rebellion that had guided Harriet to the dance floor last night flamed again.

“I think perhaps it was the punch. Did it taste sour to you?”

Penelope frowned and ignored the question. “I do not understand how you could have misunderstood me, Harriet. You should not be dancing.” Her nostrils flared. “Especially not with a stranger.”

Wasn’t that addendum fortuitous? Harriet swept her skirts aside and reclined in a damask chair. “He is not a stranger.”

The consternation on Penelope’s face at this unexpected turn nearly drew a smile from Harriet. Nearly. She kept her expression amiable, for she didn’t truly despise her mother-in-law. She simply did not understand her.

Penelope hadn’t moved so Harriet tipped her head up to catch her eye. “He is Mr. Fauntleroy, the mathematics tutor I have hired for the girls.”

This pronouncement finally cracked Penelope’s composure and she sank weakly against the stiff back of the settee. “Mathematics tutor?”

“Yes. Mr. Fauntleroy comes highly recommended by my brother.” Harriet cursed her tongue. Penelope held Harriet’s brother, the Duke of Taviston, in high regard but that was no reason to bring him into the conversation. Harriet was quite capable of determining her daughters’ educational needs.

Penelope squared her shoulders, once more preternaturally in control. “Is Miss Stanley not a satisfactory governess?”

Miss Stanley had been hired twenty-five years ago to educate Penelope’s two daughters. At her mother-in-law’s urging, Harriet and her husband had also entrusted the care of their daughters to Miss Stanley. She was a steadfast woman who knew how to run a nursery with a firm hand. That did not mean, however, that she wasn’t also capable of warm hugs and kind words. Harriet had been nothing but pleased with Miss Stanley’s care of her children. Miss Stanley’s education of her children was another matter entirely.

Now how to put that delicately... “I appreciate, above all things, Miss Stanley and her dedication to generations of Rutledge daughters and I hope she will continue to run the nursery for years to come.” Harriet gentled her voice. “However, I would like the girls to have a broader education than Miss Stanley would be comfortable providing. I think you can agree with me, Penelope, that her knowledge of mathematics and the sciences is somewhat lacking.”

Penelope blinked three times rapidly. “I do agree with you on that point, but I do not see the relevance. They are Rutledge girls. They will marry well. There will be no need for this ‘broad’ education you seem to desire.”

“Rutledge girls they might be, but they will inherit a sizable amount of Taviston wealth. Knowing that, Edward and I agreed they should be educated as good stewards of their inheritance from my family.”

Harriet wasn’t invoking Edward’s name in order to bring his mother over to her side. Well, not entirely anyway. She and Edward, while never in love, had formed a solid partnership over the decade of their marriage. They had discussed their daughters’ education at length and had concluded that an extended education, with an emphasis on the arts and mathematics, would serve them well. This was how the idea of Ben as a tutor had come to her.

She addressed Penelope, who had once more gone silent at her son’s name. “I’ve neglected the girls’ education. I hope not too long regarding Elizabeth and Kitty. I’m afraid I lost sight of the future after...”

She didn’t dare mention Edward’s name and his death in the same sentence. While the unexpectedness of his passing and the keen sense of loss that followed still haunted Harriet, two years later, Penelope had not yet recovered from her son’s death. Harriet sometimes wondered if she ever would.

Her mother-in-law twisted a lacy handkerchief in her hands and sighed heavily. “But a stranger, Harriet? Surely Edward wouldn’t have wanted that. Why don’t we ask Mr. Callan’s curate to spend an hour a week with the girls?”

The curate’s talents tended heavily toward following directions instead of independent thinking but that was beside the point. Harriet straightened her spine. “The education of my daughters is solely under my purview and my expense. I have hired Mr. Fauntleroy and I have complete faith in his abilities.”

She did. Much to her brother James’s dismay, Ben had always bested him during mathematics lessons. What she didn’t have faith in was Ben’s tale of looking for a painting. He was up to something else, and Harriet needed to keep an eye on him.

She gave Penelope a friendly smile. “I don’t want him to remain a stranger to you. Therefore, I would like to arrange for you to meet him. Would you be available to join us for tea tomorrow?”

“To meet who?” Philip Saunders strode into the room, stopped in the middle of the Aubusson carpet, and addressed his sister, Penelope. The room immediately turned stiflingly oppressive, the exact opposite of its intended angelic nature.

She rose gracefully and extended her palm. “Harriet has hired a mathematics tutor for the girls. As a matter of fact, he is the mysterious stranger she danced with last evening.”

Mr. Saunders clasped his hands behind his back and frowned at Harriet, a perpetual expression where she was concerned. His startlingly blue eyes, which on anyone else would have appeared warm and friendly, swept a brief, glacial glance her way. “I hardly think that’s wise, especially as you did not consult me on the matter.”

Penelope’s brother, who also happened to be sole guardian of Harriet’s son William, had always made it clear he preferred Harriet not to think at all. She had—after four tries—finally produced the next Dunstan heir. In Mr. Saunders’ view, she was no longer needed. Since Edward’s death, he had more than once suggested she move back to her brother’s house.

Sometimes Harriet wished he would treat her with more hostility instead of such blatant disregard just so she could unleash her impotent anger without looking foolish. Instead, his dismissiveness left her to quietly simmer.

Harriet stood and squared her shoulders. “I’m quite content with my decision. As I mentioned to Penelope, Mr. Fauntleroy comes with excellent recommendations. I think the girls will benefit greatly from his knowledge.”

Mr. Saunders, reasonably fit for a man nearing sixty-one due to his time spent riding across the estate in close supervision of its workings, tipped his head back and stared at one of the cherubs gracing the upper column of the fireplace. “Penelope had an opportunity to observe this Mr. Fauntleroy at the assembly last night. Neither his age nor his cavalier charm did much to recommend him. I must insist he be kept from Lord Dunstan’s company, should you proceed with this ill-advised plan.”

Harriet hadn’t been pleased with Ben’s manner either, as his flirtatiousness was akin to a hammer hit to the head. There’d been nothing flattering about it, especially after he outlined that absurd courtship plan and she realized how desperate he was to gain access to Rutledge Manor. She’d give him that entry, but only so she could keep his activities under careful watch.

To Mr. Saunders she smiled tightly and said, “I wish you would reserve judgment of Mr. Fauntleroy until you’ve met him. Nonetheless, he is to be employed for the girls’ benefit so if you want to bar him from meeting William, that is your prerogative.”

Though her rebuke of his prejudice had been mild, his frown deepened. “It is more than my prerogative; it is my duty to protect Lord Dunstan from unsavory associations.”

Like associating with his mother.

Harriet’s thought must have reminded him of her transgression. “After your careless display of unseemliness in dancing last night, Penelope and I have decided you will be restricted again,” Mr. Saunders said with a gleam of triumph in his eyes. “You will stay away from the nursery for the next three days.”

This cruel edict impersonally given pushed Harriet and any semblance of politeness she might have possessed over the edge. She looked from Mr. Saunders to Penelope without really seeing either of them. “Mr. Fauntleroy will be here at one o’clock tomorrow, should you care to meet him. Thereafter, he will be employed in tutoring my daughters from the hours of noon to three o’clock every day but Sunday. I wish you both a good day.”

 

***

Ben approached Rutledge Manor on horseback the next afternoon, slowing his mount in order to take an inventory of the ancestral home of the Viscounts Dunstan. The stone building was three stories tall and perfectly symmetrical, except for a one-story projection on the left side that might be a conservatory. Gables, covered in vines, bookended the main structure while two pointed finials rose high on the back side.

Hattie’s family home of Taviston Hall was larger than this one but, of some significance was the fact that Rutledge Manor was much newer, built just ten years ago. One of the previous Lord Dunstans had poured a pot of money into this new residence. Ben had a very good idea where those funds had come from. They couldn’t be recovered now, but their source could be claimed. By him

Spurred to action, he urged the horse into a trot and arrived at the front door in under a minute. A stable boy appeared from around the side of the house and took the reins from Ben with a simple nod. As he turned back, the door opened wide. Rutledge Manor was nothing if not efficiently run.

Ben stepped inside and couldn’t help but look around in wonder. A sweeping staircase rose along the left wall to the first floor. White tiles, which must have been a pain in the arse to keep clean, gleamed across the expanse of the floor. Fresh flowers rested on a side table. A huge chandelier dropped from the upper ceiling. Not a shilling had been spared in the building of this house.

The house steward, hands clasped behind him, waited patiently while Ben surveyed the room. When his gaze at last settled back upon the dark-haired, greying-at-the-temples servant, the man swept a hand toward the back of the hall. “If you will follow me, Mr. Fauntleroy.”

They exited the hall and crossed a short corridor to a door that stood ajar. Ben reminded himself to behave since his plan to court Hattie, which had sounded much more exciting than this tutoring business, had been scuttled. Not that he was so incorrigible, but he did have a natural talent for flirting and doing so always made life much more interesting than it generally was. Hattie was right anyway—she was far too old for him, even if all he’d wanted was a romp or two.

The steward entered first and announced him. The Dowager Lady Dunstan rose, svelte and graceful, but didn’t move toward him. Hattie stood near a paned window that overlooked the back lawn. He wasn’t quite certain how to take her cautious smile. A stranger might even mistake it for a wary grimace.

She looked lovely though. Not old. His brain might know she was five and thirty, but all his eyes saw was a head of glossy hair the color of mahogany and a face with flawless skin and intriguing grey eyes. Without conscious thought a fribbling compliment formed on his tongue and his mouth opened automatically to deliver it with full charm.

Hattie interrupted him before a syllable could escape. Moving away from the window with a swish of her leafy green dress and an expression of consternation, she introduced him.

The older viscountess inclined her head toward Ben the tiniest fraction of an inch. She said not a word. Ben then remembered Hattie’s warning about her mother-in-law. However, rare was the female he could not enchant with well-chosen words and a smile.

With all due propriety, Ben bowed. “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady. I am honored to have the opportunity to broaden the minds of your granddaughters, who must surely take their intellectual curiosity from you.”

Not a muscle moved in the older woman’s sculpted cheeks. If anything, a deeper disdain darkened her eyes as she said, “As it happens, Mr. Fauntleroy, I am much opposed to this scheme of Lady Dunstan’s. My granddaughters have a perfectly capable governess.”

Well. At least Hattie and her mama-in-law had one thing in common: they were both impervious to flattery and a winsome smile. In the grander breadth of life this did not concern Ben, but he could not lose access to this house. He was behind in a race where he usually had at least a two-furlong lead. Somehow, he had to work himself into the elder Lady Dunstan’s good graces.

Hattie was staring at a small painting on the wall, but Ben doubted she was really looking at it. She swallowed and turned toward Lady Dunstan. “I have spoken to Miss Stanley, and she is quite in favor of this scheme. She even suggested that perhaps Mr. Fauntleroy would be willing to partner with her in teaching the girls to dance.”

Lady Dunstan stiffened. “They are far too young. It is years before Elizabeth makes her debut.”

Hattie continued on as if the other woman hadn’t spoken, a flash of defiance in her eyes. “After dancing with Mr. Fauntleroy last evening, I believe her suggestion is a wonderful one. He is quite as skilled as the dancing master hired by my father in my youth.” She turned to Ben, her grimace-disguised-as-a-smile widening. “Would you be interested in teaching dancing, Mr. Fauntleroy? I would, of course, increase your salary accordingly.”

“I would be delighted. Truthfully, I think the invigoration of dancing will increase the flow of blood to the brain and enhance the girls’ mental acuity during our mathematics lessons.”

Hattie arched an eyebrow at this.

Lady Dunstan wedged herself back into the conversation. “This mathematics tutoring is a waste of time for all concerned, and I do not understand why you insist on going forward with hiring Mr. Fauntleroy. Despite your words to the contrary, I do not believe my son would have approved.”

Lady Dunstan might as well have slapped Hattie, the hurt on her face was so raw and exposed. Ben wanted nothing so much as to step closer to Hattie, to touch her arm in a show of support. Such an intimacy would not win her any favors with her mother-in-law, though.

“I cannot think there is any harm in a few numbers and a couple of whirls around the dance floor,” he exclaimed to the room at large. “The Earl of Sedgeford certainly didn’t think so, and he is father to no less than six daughters. Oh, do forgive me.” Ben reached into the pocket of his tailcoat and drew out two letters. He extended them toward the older of the two Lady Dunstans. “My references, my lady. From the Earl of Sedgeford, as mentioned, and Mr. Tolbert of Quinberry.”

Lady Dunstan ignored the papers and Ben. “Harriet, please be sensible. Edward did not want such an unconventional education for his daughters.”

Hattie took a step toward the older woman, her eyes glittering with...unshed tears? Surprised at the sudden intimacy of the moment, Ben drifted toward the fireplace, allowing Hattie the space she needed.

“Edward was my husband,” she proclaimed in a low, wobbly voice. “Please do not presume that we did not plan for our children’s futures as any mother and father would. I am well versed in what he wanted and were he here today, he would not hesitate to tell you so.” Hattie took a steadying breath before continuing, “I invited you to meet Mr. Fauntleroy as a courtesy. If you have no further questions for him, I intend to introduce him to his charges and to allow him to commence with his duties.”

A thick fog of silence hung between the two Lady Dunstans, neither of them blinking. From experience with his sisters, Ben knew better than to utter a word. He stood absolutely still, scarcely breathing. As much as he wanted to rush to Hattie’s defense and bolster her right to hire him, he knew such an action would do no good. Lady Dunstan would value his opinion even less than she did Hattie’s, and Hattie would resent his interference in a private family affair.

Just when he thought the tension might stretch beyond his capacity to remain unobtrusive, an elderly woman, leaning heavily on a bejeweled cane, swept into the room. Yes, despite the cane she was still capable of sweeping, her head held high, her skirts swirling in a froth of pink that should have looked ridiculous on a woman of her eighty-plus years, but somehow did not. She stopped just beside Ben and lifted a lorgnette to her eyes. Her study of him was intense and comprehensive.

“Harriet my dear, where are your manners?” The elderly woman’s scold was softened by a familiar tone and a white eyebrow quirked in amusement.

The previous minute’s tension seemed to leave Hattie in one fell swoop. “Forgive me, Grandmama.” She raised a hand toward Ben. “May I present Mr. Fauntleroy? Mr. Fauntleroy, this is Lady Dunstan.”

Ah yes, the third of the surfeit of viscountesses Mrs. Portman had rambled on about. This would be the true dowager then, Hattie’s husband’s grandmother. Sensing that this Lady Dunstan might appreciate his charms more than the others, he executed a courtly bow befitting her age and station.

She nodded her approval but on the periphery of his vision Ben noticed Hattie’s eyes rolling slightly upward.

The grand dame of the viscountesses lifted her lorgnette once more. “Very pretty indeed, Mr. Fauntleroy. But more importantly, can you tell me what six hundred ninety-one minus five hundred twenty-two, the square root thereof, added to three hundred forty-five is equal to?”

Ben blinked twice before replying, “Three hundred fifty-eight.”

“Well chosen, Harriet. Not that I ever doubted your acumen, but one could easily be fooled by the dashing good looks and fine form. ‘Tis a good thing your girls are young and unlikely to find themselves distracted by Mr. Fauntleroy’s strong jaw. There is something to be said for tutors who are white-haired and possessed of a wart or two.”

Hattie laughed, an honest full-throated laugh that had Ben swallowing thickly. “Grandmama, you are making Mr. Fauntleroy blush.”

If his cheeks had turned red, it certainly wasn’t because of the elder Lady Dunstan’s words. The youngest Lady Dunstan’s laughter was another matter. He wouldn’t mind hearing that sound again. And possibly again.

The middle Lady Dunstan—he really was going to have to find better identifiers for these ladies—stepped out of the shadow she’d been cast in when her mother-in-law arrived. “Maman, you can’t possibly endorse this mad scheme.”

The dowager peered at her through her lorgnette. “There is no need for me to endorse the idea, Penelope. Harriet is perfectly capable of raising her children, contrary to the opinion of your deucedly foolish brother.”

Good grief, he had certainly walked into the henhouse.

“This has nothing to do with Philip,” Lady Dunstan the Second replied, feathers ruffling to an alarming height. “I am merely trying to uphold the Rutledge family name.”

“Oh for heaven’s sakes, Penelope! It’s not as if Mr. Fauntleroy will turn the girls into bookkeepers or, or...seduce Harriet into a scandal! He’s merely a boy trying to make a wage and garner another recommendation so he may continue to be suitably employed.”

The ‘boy’ comment rankled, and the mention of seduction hit too close to his first fanciful idea. Enough. These three might well stand here bickering until Hattie’s daughters had made their debuts.

Ben cleared his throat and pinned Hattie with his gaze. “My lady, I am most eager to meet my students. Would you be so kind?”

For once, appreciation flared in her grey eyes. “Please follow me, Mr. Fauntleroy.”

Ben took his leave of the eldest Lady Dunstan, but when he turned to Penelope she was staring frostily at Hattie. “Do remember that this tutor is here for the girls only, not Lord Dunstan.”

If Hattie heard her, she gave no indication, instead turning and sailing out of the room. Ben trailed after her as they climbed the stairs of Rutledge Manor. On the first floor landing he touched her elbow and she turned to face him.

“My condolences on the loss of your husband, Hattie. I was too flippant when I cited your widowhood yesterday. You...you clearly miss him.”

“I do.” She blinked away a sheen of moisture. “Ours was a marriage of affectionate companionship. And now, let me apologize for that.” She waved her hand toward the ground floor.

He shrugged. “You did warn me—to a degree. I’m sorry your relationship with your mother-in-law is so fraught. Has it always been so?”

“Do you mean was she like that while Edward was alive? Not usually. She loved him dearly and happily accepted me as his wife. She has not dealt well with his death, however.”

“Are you so certain this is a better idea than a courtship?” Ben asked with a cock of an eyebrow. “I was sure that Lady Dunstan was on the verge of naming her second.”

Hattie chuckled and then quickly lifted two fingers to her lips to stifle the sound as a housemaid exited one of the rooms to their left with a pile of linens in her arms. She leaned closer to Ben and murmured, “Just wait until you meet my uncle-in-law.”

“Would that be the ‘deucedly foolish brother?’” When she nodded, Ben said, “I can see why you like the dowager so much. Though I must admit I’m not overly fond of the way she described me.”

Her brow furrowed. “She called you dashing with a strong jaw. I never thought you so vain as to need more flattery.”

Of course Hattie didn’t see the word ‘boy’ as an insult, for she saw Ben in exactly that way. “Never mind. Lead the way to my charges, please. I am eager to corrupt their young souls with numbers.”

Hattie looked at him for a moment before lowering her voice. “When and where do you plan to search? You must be careful, Benj—Ben.”

“Today I intend only to get to know your daughters and how far they will test my mathematical skills. The other can wait a day or two.”

“Oh.”

Ben cocked his head. “What?”

She straightened her spine. “It’s just...that’s very sweet of you. I didn’t expect you to spend much time actually teaching them.”

“Why? Do you agree with your mother-in-law?”

“Not at all, but I know you have a mission to complete.”

“This might astound you, given my youth and inexperience, but I am capable of doing two things at once.” Seeing that she was none too pleased with his sarcasm, which suited him just fine since he wasn’t altogether fond of her attitude, he added a leering, “Try me sometime.”

Hattie huffed out a breath and swished around him, heading for the second floor. Ben thrust a hand through his hair and watched her a moment before finally following.

The schoolroom was long and narrow with dormer windows that looked out over the velvet carpet of lawn that stretched away from the house. By the time Ben arrived, three young girls were smothering Hattie with hugs and high-pitched chatter. At the sight of him, the tallest one extricated herself and stood primly with her hands folded in front of her white apron.

Ben smiled and inclined his head at her. She dipped a quick curtsey but did not return the expression. Her hair was the exact shade of reddish brown that adorned her mother’s head. But those eyes, they were such a serious shade of blue that they looked incongruous on a girl of just ten. As if to prove his point, she shot a withering glance at her mother and sisters but ruined the effect with a small tap of her foot.

Whether from motherly intuition or happenstance, Hattie straightened just then and pulled the younger girls to her side. “Mr. Fauntleroy, may I present my daughters Miss Elizabeth, Miss Catherine, and Miss Lucinda Rutledge.”

The red-haired middle one tipped her head back and complained, “I’m Kitty, Mama.”

Which prompted the smallest one to wrinkle up her nose and say, “What about me? You forgot Lucy, Mama.”

Hattie chucked the little girl’s chin. “Lucinda is your grown-up name.”

Ben bowed to each of the girls in turn. “Miss Lucy, Miss Kitty, I am much pleased to meet you.” He made sure to use the proper address for the eldest. “Miss Rutledge, I hope that I may rely on you to assist me with your younger sisters’ lessons.”

His request earned him a lift of her brow. “Yes, sir.”

“Lady Dunstan, if you would excuse us, I must assess my pupils’ knowledge.”

“As you wish.” She lifted her chin ever so fractionally. “I would request a report from you at the end of each day.”

A report every day seemed excessive, but Ben would bring that up with her in private. He nodded.

A maid poked her head around a connecting door. “My lady. I was hoping to tell Miss Stanley that I mean to take his lordship for a walk in an hour. Along the back hedgerow.”

Hattie’s response to this banal information was an oddly brilliant smile. “If I see her, I will let her know. Thank you, Janie.” After the maid’s head disappeared, she addressed her daughters. “Ears open and lips closed, my dears. Mr. Fauntleroy has much to teach you.”

They all nodded solemnly and returned to the table where they’d been working while their mother slipped out. Ben went straight to work, copying out sums and multiplications to varying degrees of difficulty.

Lucy chattered the whole time, about her breakfast, the irritating strap on her left shoe, the nursery cat’s unfortunate habit of being sick on her favorite rug, and her desire to show him, Ben, how she could easily solve all the mathmical problems in the world in five minutes. Or three even.

Kitty bounced out of her seat within half a minute’s time and hopped around the room on one foot. Elizabeth repeatedly ordered her to sit down and Lucy to hush, to no avail.

Remembering how suffocating he’d always found older siblings, Ben looked up from his scratching. “Miss Rutledge, would you be kind enough to see that the pencils are well-sharpened? Miss Kitty, please hop on the other foot now and do not stop until it is time to commence figuring. And as for you, Miss Lucy, I would like to hear how high you can count. Please begin.”

An hour later Ben had a better idea of each girl’s mathematical prowess and her personality. Not to mention his nerves were a bit frayed from having to intervene in squabble after squabble. Verbal ones between Elizabeth and Kitty, physical ones between Kitty and Lucy.

Kitty stood her pencil on end and let it fall over. Her head fell dramatically as well, onto her arm. “I wish we could go for a walk like William is right now.”

“You are no longer an infant, Kitty,” Elizabeth replied sharply. “Do you still wish to have your linen changed as well?”

Ben had no chance to contain the chuckle that escaped at that comment. Ignoring Elizabeth’s startled look, he rose. “Why should we not walk? You have all earned a break.”

Surely, I have too.

He’d never had to be the serious, in-charge adult when playing with his nieces and nephews. He’d been the entertainer and the jester. The effort to keep up his authoritarian role was exhausting.

Kitty and Lucy jumped up and down while Elizabeth eyed him warily. Her earnestness was an impressive thing. He would, somehow, coax a smile from her before the end of the afternoon.

He set Lucy the task of leading them out for the simple fact that the youngest rarely ever had the chance to lead, as he well knew. Kitty needed a reminder every now and then to let her sister guide them. He and Elizabeth brought up the rear as they trooped out to the back garden.

“Miss Rutledge, may I ask if you suffer from an unfortunate allergy to smiling? I have yet to see one grace your face.”

“I have not felt the desire to do so, sir.”

Lucy and Kitty skipped down the terrace steps in direct contrast to their sister’s mood. He and Elizabeth took them at a sedate pace.

Ben glanced over at her. “A smile is ever so pretty and enjoyed by all around us.”

She chewed on her lower lip as they stepped onto the lawn. “Even though I am not currently of a mind to smile, I should do so to please those around me?”

“Ye—” He stopped. and she did too, turning to stare up at him with bewilderment in her dark blue eyes. Well. Her perspective was not unfounded. “No, Miss Rutledge, I do not like the path that sentiment would lead us down. You are free to disperse your smiles when and where you wish, and I shall consider myself fortunate to witness one of them.”

“Very well.” He was grateful when she fell into step beside him once more as they entered the hedgerow behind her two frolicking sisters.

“How old are you again?”

“Ten, sir.” She craned her head to look farther down the walk. “Oh, there is Mama! I’m so glad she is able to see William today.” A graceful smile crossed her face just before she lifted her skirts and took off running, just like the ten-year-old she was.