Beesley looked back over his shoulder. “It appears I’m going to need a text with lists of Latin nouns and verbs so that we can continue your exploration of the language.”
* * *
When Mina curledup with a book on the soft cushions of the window seat of her bed chamber, Sir Cinnamon rolled onto his back and regally sprawled in a presentation of his favorite place to be petted, yowling for her attention. She put aside the book and pulled him up to the cushions with her.
Since the creature was always so insistent upon her entire devotion and attention, she wondered what he’d gotten up to while she’d spent most of the day at Edgewood. She’d spied him slinking back from the stables when she and Mrs. Phippen had alighted from the carriage after they’d returned. Her governess had pled extreme fatigue and retired to her chamber.
Her heavy book still lay opened to the beginning. She’d propped open the thick tome with another, smaller book. Mr. Beesley had sent the story home with her, because he’d said he thought she might enjoy the tale of theOdyssey, translated into English.
The entire story was so long, it was broken up into a set of twelve separate books. The first she’d tackled was a summary of the highlights of attempts by Ulysses, the only Greek survivor of the Trojan Wars, to return home.
However, what riveted Mina’s attention the most were the trials of his wife, Penelope, who waited for him in Ithaca, and waited. She was ever loyal to her absent husband, in spite of all the suitors who wanted her to give up on the man she loved, not to mention the series of nymphs, goddesses, and so forth, who filled Ulysses’ days, and nights, on the way home.
Mina knew exactly how Penelope felt.
* * *
Lord Rumsford leanedback in the chair behind his desk and steepled the fingers of his hands. The quirk he’d learned to use over the years gave him time to think before answering a difficult question. And the question posited by Mina’s governess presented a reasonable, though thorny, path to turning Mina into a proper young lady who could be presented into society.
How could his immediate bond with his legal daughter have gone so wrong over the years?
The murky details of her paternity were enough to keep suitors away once she was of an age. But now, she’d turned into a stubborn, endlessly curious child. And according to the latest discovery by Mrs. Phippen, by way of the duke’s retainer, Old Beesley, it appeared she had an unusually high intellect.
His dilemma: He had to overcome a frightening combination in Mina if he were to maintain his determination to see her safely into a marriage rooted in mutual respect, if not a love match.
Otherwise, she’d have to spend the rest of her life in lonely exile at the Abbey.
He finally spoke in response to Mrs. Phippen’s question. “How old is your niece, Lucy?”
“She’s Miss Tindall’s age, plus a few months.”
“And do you think the two of them would be compatible in interests?”
Mrs. Phippen’s smile faltered. “I’ve been able to spend little time with Lucy, milord, but her inheritance from her parents has been sufficient to keep her in a respectable girls’ school in London.”
“So, I assume from your hesitation, you fear my daughter’s hoyden ways might rub off on your Lucy?”
“Oh, no, milord. I’m sure the two of them can come to a companionable friendship, with my guidance of course.”
Lord Rumsford smiled in spite of himself. “If nothing else, this experiment will provide all of us with a vast amount of entertainment.” He pulled a pocket watch from his waistcoat pocket and frowned. “I’m afraid I’m late for a meeting with my steward. Why don’t you bring Lucy to Montcliffe for the holiday break to see how the girls get on? My coachman in London can collect Lucy at her school and deliver her here.”
He paused for a moment, wondering if perhaps he’d overstepped. “You’re welcome to collect the child yourself if you’re worried about a chaperone, or I could send word for my housekeeper in London to accompany her here.”
Mrs. Phippen rose, inclined her head, and thought for a moment before answering. “Yes, of course. If you don’t mind, though, I believe I should collect her in person. That way, I can prepare her for…for her new friend.” She paused and gazed off in the distance. “A holiday visit is the perfect way to see if they’ll get along.”
* * *
Lucy Phippen rushedthrough her daily chore of wrapping a knife, fork, and spoon carefully inside a starched and pressed linen napkin, one set for each student at Mrs. Borden’s School for Girls. Which meant she had to put together forty sets of the wrapped utensils three times a day. Mind numbing, but necessary to help pay the part of the tuition her parents’ annuity did not cover as the school year wore on.
She refused to complain to her Aunt Grace who had enough problems of her own. She was grateful her father’s sister had helped her find a place where she could learn enough to perhaps one day find employment as either a teacher at a girls’ school, or as a governess. Her father had been a solicitor who had set aside an annuity for his family for a “rainy day.” That day had turned out to be not only “rainy” but ugly and stormy with a carriage accident in London ending both her parents’ lives.
“Lucy—.” The sharp voice of the headmistress broke rudely into her thoughts. “Your aunt is here early to collect you for holiday break. Gather up your things. Don’t make her wait.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Lucy stammered, wondering frantically what had happened to cause her aunt to show up at this odd time of the year. Usually, Lucy stayed on throughout the year, since her aunt’s positions rarely allowed room for her orphaned niece.
She raced back to the room she shared with three other girls on the top floor of the ancient building housing the school in Clerkenwell. Their narrow beds lined up tightly, side by side. Tidying up their beds neatly each morning entailed a complicated dance of moving them apart while she and her roommates each took turns tucking in corners smartly.
Her small, well-scuffed traveling trunk was stacked precariously at the top of her roommates’ trunks in a corner of the room. She climbed upon a chair and dragged the trunk down to balance on the nearest bed. The sum total of her belongings fit easily, and she was done packing in a matter of minutes.
