Duncan rose as Lucy said, “There is just one problem.”
Baron looked up from the papers he had already begun to peruse. “What’s that?”
“I have no idea how to be a nanny.”
Chapter Three
Baron waved away Lucy’swords as though they were gnats buzzing before his face. “There’s nothing to it. Play with the lad, read him stories, teach him his letters and numbers. Lord John says he is a sweet, well-behaved boy. I’m certain he is the least of your worries.”
Lucy would have objected further. The boy was certainly hermainworry, but Uncle Winn’s clerk came in with a stack of missives, and she and Duncan Slorach were summarily dismissed. Her rooms were upstairs, but she didn’t start up right away. Instead, she paused outside Uncle Winn’s office and looked at Slorach. “As usual, you have all the luck,” she said without any rancor. “Would that I could be the footman.”
“I assure you, I know no more about being a footman than you do of being a nanny.”
“What is there to know? You carry items on trays and dress in smart livery. You ought to be good at that.” Her gaze slid over him. It seemed no matter where he was or what his assignment for the day, his clothing was always neat and clean. He was the son of a gentleman, and she could only assume his father was a man of some means, considering Slorach’s clothing was always fashionable and expensively tailored. He had the height and the style of a footman. If he had good calves, he’d be perfect.
She hadn’t looked at his calves, but she assumed they were just as faultless as the rest of him.
“And I have no doubt, you will be a good nanny. A boy of six is old enough to go for rambles and play at make-believe. I imagine you can invent any number of stories featuring knights and dragons.”
Lucy considered this. She did have a good imagination—sometimestoogood—and she did enjoy walking outdoors and playing at knights. Still, what was she to do if the boy cried or couldn’t fall asleep? She’d never spent much time around children. She’d always been more interested in reading about poisons or learning French than playing dolls with her nanny or toy soldiers with Will. She remembered her brother would play with his little army men for hours, arranging them in various formations and reenacting tedious historical battles he'd studied. Would she have to set up miniature cannon and horses for hours on end? Was that what she had spent the last eighteen months training for?
“I should start packing,” Slorach said. “I’ll choose carefully. I’ll need a few things for the mission but otherwise, a footman wouldn’t have much.” He gave her one of his assessing looks. “Neither would a nanny. Bring your knives, though. You’ll want to have them close in case you have need of them.”
Ah, yes. Her knives. One of which was currently stuck in a tree trunk. “You just had to mention knives, didn’t you?” She whirled and stomped up the stairs, leaving Duncan staring up at her shaking his head.
***
THE NEXT MORNING MARGAREThad to shake Lucy awake. Lucy grunted and pulled the pillow over her head. “Go away before I shoot you,” she grumbled.
“Lucy, you told me last night to make sure you woke on time. This is the third time I’ve shaken you awake and now Baron is bellowing for you.”
As if on cue, she heard Uncle Winn call, “Lucy, five minutes or you’ll miss the train!”
Lucy shot up. “Oh, no! I only wanted five more minutes.”
“You said that thirty minutes ago. Don’t worry. I have everything laid out.”
