Regina Scott Read Online Free Page B

lamentably secondhand. He had found little sweet about Miss Pyrmont this afternoon, with the exception of her smile. He would have placed her closer to the acidic end of the scale. And it was not uncommon for women of good family to take positions as an upper servant. Charlotte would know. His sister-in-law had married poorly and been left a destitute widow. If he hadn’t asked her to come preside over his household, she would be serving in some other house, likely as a governess or companion.
    “If you are determined she needs a gown,” he said, “give her one of Ann’s. Someone ought to take pleasure from them.”
    Charlotte stared at him, her skin stretched tight over her long nose. “Have you no respect for her memory?”
    Guilt wrapped itself around his tongue and stilled it. A day didn’t go by that he didn’t think of Ann, her quiet insights, her dry laugh. He still didn’t understand how he’d so failed to misread the evidence of her illness until it was too late to save her. But he’d realized he couldn’t linger over his grief or he’d go mad.
    As if his guilt had shouted into the silence, Charlotte patted his arm, face softening. “Forgive me. I just miss her so.”
    Nick touched her hand. “We all do. But you know she frequently donated her time and her gifts. I suspect she wouldn’t mind someone else using her things.”
    Charlotte nodded, but she moved ahead of him to enter the withdrawing door near the foot of the stairs first.
    Nick came more slowly. He knew Charlotte grieved the loss of her sister. But life was for the living, and holing himself up with his regrets would not solve the problems facing him.
    Nor would it help him understand his daughter’s nanny. She was waiting for him in the withdrawing room, and despite Charlotte’s concerns, he thought Miss Pyrmont looked as if she belonged there, even in her plain brown wool dress. Perhaps it was the way she held her head high or the smile on her pink lips. Perhaps it was the way she clutched Alice’s hand as if to protect her. She met his gaze with an assessing look that made it seem as if he had strayed into her withdrawing room rather than the other way around.
    For some reason, he wondered what she thought of the space. The withdrawing room wasn’t nearly as fussy as some he’d seen when he’d spent time in Society. Everything was neatly done in geometric shapes, from the gilded medallions on the walls and ceiling to the pink and green concentric circles of the carpet that covered the hardwood floor nearly from wall to wall. The white marble fireplace provided sufficient heat, the wall of windows and brass wall sconces sufficient light. The furniture was arranged in groupings, but a chaise in the corner provided rest for a retiring lady, or so Ann had always said.
    He thought Miss Pyrmont would never be so retiring. But that hypothesis remained to be tested.
    “Ladies,” he said with a bow. “Thank you for joining me this evening.”
    Miss Pyrmont curtsied, and Alice copied her, a tiny figure in her red velvet gown. Charlotte smiled at her niece with obvious fondness.
    “I believe Mrs. Jennings has dinner ready to be served,” she said. “Shall we?” She didn’t wait for his answer. She accepted Alice’s hand from her nanny and strolled toward the main door, which led into a salon and then the corridor.
    Nick held out his arm. “Miss Pyrmont?”
    For the first time, she looked uncertain. She glanced at his outstretched arm, then up at his face as if trying to understand the gesture. If she was from a good family as Charlotte had said, she should have been escorted in to dinner more than once. And even if she hadn’t, surely the master of a house could be expected to act with chivalry on occasion.
    He could see her swallow against the high neck of her gown. Then her gaze darted past him, and she straightened her back as if making a decision. She marched to his side and put her hand on his arm. Despite the determination in