She blinked. So...maybe he did have a clue?
‘This child’s mother obviously thinks there’s some connection between us, between the baby and me.’
‘Or someone could be trying to take advantage of your aristocratic heritage,’ she felt honour-bound to point out. Sebastian was Lord Tyrell’s only son. The Tyrell family had that enormous estate in Lincolnshire. Not to mention a London house and a holiday villa somewhere on the Riviera.
She rubbed Jemima’s tummy again, and tried to entice her to take her dummy—unsuccessfully. If anything the volume of her cries only increased.
‘Going to the police has the potential to cause a scandal. The tabloids would have a field day.’
She rolled her eyes. What on earth was a scandal when a baby’s welfare was at stake?
‘And a scandal will affect the Tyrell Foundation. It’s on a knife-edge already. I don’t want to risk scaring away the benefactors I’ve been in negotiations with for the last few months. We’ve worked too hard for that.’
Sebastian’s charity wasn’t one of the glamorous ones featuring children or animals on their flyers. His charity assisted the recently unemployed in the over-fifties age bracket to find work.
From all that Liz had said, it was gruelling work too, and apparently Sebastian toiled like a Trojan. It wasn’t something she’d have expected from an aristocrat’s son.
We all have our peccadilloes, she reminded herself. She’d have never expected to be particularly fluent in office work, and yet here she was.
She tossed her head and gritted her teeth. She was glad she’d become skilled enough to help her sister out of a tight spot.
Baby Jemima’s continual crying scratched through her brain, making her temples throb. ‘Where on earth are you anyway?’
A heavy sigh came down the line. ‘Australia.’
‘Australia!’ She said a rude word.
‘Ms Gilmour, did you just swear?’ There was no censure in his voice, just astonishment.
‘I can’t stand this crying another second. I need to change and feed the baby. I’ll call you back.’
Without further ado, she hung up on him.
Don’t lose me my job, Livvy.
She grimaced before pouncing on the bag the absent mother had evidently packed for the baby. She’d searched it for clues earlier. It contained clothes, toys, nappies, formula and bottles, and, most importantly of all, a set of instructions. A quick glance at them told her that Jemima’s next feed had been due fifteen minutes ago.
She crooned nonsense at the baby as she changed and then fed her. ‘Don’t you worry, little snuggly-wuggly Jemima. We’ll have you fed and dry in no time. Would you like to hear a bit about me—my qualifications and what have you? Well, I’ll have you know that I was the go-to babysitter when I was in high school. And believe me there were plenty of tots in Sevenoaks, Kent. And since then I’ve been made a godmother—twice! Once to baby Bobby and once to baby Matilda. So you see, I do have credentials. You’re in safe hands.’
Jemima drank her bottle with an avid greed that made Liv laugh. ‘You’re simply lovely, little Jemima.’
The baby puked up on the sleeve of Liv’s blouse when Liv burped her, and then promptly fell asleep again.
‘Easy-peasy, nothing to it,’ Liv murmured, gently placing her in the carrier again. ‘If only I could curl up and go to sleep too. But no, not I. I now have to ring my sister’s boss and apologise for hanging up on him. Grovel if I have to so he won’t fire Liz. Wish me luck, little one.’
Without wasting any more time, she grabbed the phone and hit redial. It was picked up on the first ring. ‘I’m sorry I hung up so abruptly, but I had to—’
‘There’s no need to apologise, Ms Gilmour. The noise was driving me to distraction as well and I’m not even in the same country, let alone the same room. It all sounds quiet now, though.’
‘Baby Jemima has been changed and fed and, having thrown up on my blouse, is now blissfully asleep. All’s well in Baby Land.’
‘I’ll replace your blouse.’
She blinked. ‘That won’t be necessary. It’ll wash out.’ She stared down at the sleeping baby and something inside her chest clenched. ‘She really is the sweetest little thing. Would you like me to send you a photo?’
‘Why?’
She shook herself. What was she thinking? Sebastian Tyrell didn’t sound like the kind of man who oohed and aahed over cute baby pictures. ‘Maybe...maybe she looks like her mother and that’ll give you a clue to the baby’s identity.’
‘I...uh... OK.’
She was grasping at straws and they both knew it. Nevertheless she took a picture on her phone and sent it through to him.
A long silence ensued. ‘Babies all look the same to me.’
She bit her lip. ‘You don’t have much experience with babies, do you?’
‘No.’
She drummed her fingers against her desk. He’d ruled out the police, so... ‘Do you want me to organise a nanny or some kind of babysitting service?’
‘I may not know much about babies but I know business. Questions will be asked and the answers recorded. The baby’s full details will need to be provided—a birth certificate may need to be produced.’
She doubted an actual birth certificate would be required, but she caught the gist of his concerns. They didn’t know Jemima’s full details. They barely knew any details at all! And if he was the baby’s father...
Another long silence ensued—a silence that started to burn and chafe through her. ‘Look, I don’t know if you’ll consider this any kind of solution, but Jemima can stay with me until you get back to London. How does that sound?’
‘It sounds perfect.’
His relief was evident and it occurred to her now that those long silences of his had been strategic devices to lead her to the point of making this precise offer. She didn’t know whether to be outraged or not.
‘I understand this is a great imposition on you, Ms Gilmour, and you have my sincere gratitude.’
She chose not to be outraged.
‘I also understand that you can’t be expected to perform both nanny duties and office duties at the same time. Please organise a temp to take over in your absence. Judith performs her duties ably, but...’ He trailed off. ‘The woman you arranged to come in while you were on holiday was very good.’
‘I’ll check with the agency and see if she’s available.’ Playing nanny would be far more fun than playing office manager. And she couldn’t help thinking that the
