from pretty enough to very nearly beautiful. If only he didn’t think she might be smiling because she had bested him in some unspoken contest between them. “We’ll discuss your wages at another time. But I must warn you, Miss Carruthers, we are not remaining in London above another two days.”
“We’re not?” Julia asked, her heart doing another quiet flip as Alice slipped her small hand into hers. “You have a country residence, sir?”
“I do. But we travel to Romney Marsh, to my father’s estate, where you and Alice will remain while I return to London and my duties at the War Office. Are you still so anxious to be in my employ, knowing you’ll once more be stuck in the back of beyond?”
Julia squeezed Alice’s hand. “I can think of nothing I would enjoy more, Mr. Becket, than being Alice’s nanny, no matter where that takes me. But I will say that London, I find, holds very little appeal. I much prefer the countryside.”
“And I wish you joy of it, Miss Carruthers. I’m sure my family will welcome both you and Alice to Becket Hall with open arms.”
“And you, sir?” Julia dared to ask, because Alice had accepted her and she knew her battle was already won. “You don’t enjoy Kent?”
The woman was entirely too insightful for his comfort. It was time for him to be done with this. “Wind and marsh and sea and mist. And sheep. More sheep than people, except for the people who are mostly sheep themselves.” Suddenly he wished to be alone. “No, Miss Carruthers, I do not enjoy Kent. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have important matters to attend to while you and Alice have your tea.”
“Papa, you promised,” Alice said, letting go of Julia’s hand to scamper after him as he turned to leave the room.
Chance was instantly contrite, guilty. “I did, didn’t I, poppet. All right. You take Julia upstairs and show her the nursery, and I will be there…momentarily.”
Alice turned back to Julia once her father had disappeared down the hallway. “It’s all right, Julia. Papa forgets, that’s all. Mrs. Jenkins says he doesn’t care about me, but that’s not true. He’s sad with Mama gone.” Then the child smiled. “But soon we’ll visit all my aunts and uncles and my grandpapa and we’ll all be so happy.”
“You’re a very wise little girl.” Julia held out her hand and Alice took it. “Tell me, do we like Mrs. Jenkins?”
The little girl sniffed, gave a toss of her golden curls. “No, Julia, we do not like Mrs. Jenkins at all. She snores and she smells when she breathes. I’m so glad she’d rather poke a stick in her eye than go to live at Becket Hall. And now Buttercup and I have you, and she can go away.” Alice looked up at Julia. “Why would anyone want to poke a stick in her eye?”
“A good question, as I nearly did just that a few moments ago with your papa,” Julia said as they headed up the stairs, three whole flights, to the top of the house. “Oh, isn’t this pretty,” she said as they stepped into a large room with too few windows. “Aren’t you a lucky little girl.”
Alice became very serious. “No, I’m a motherless child and can never be happy again,” she said, clearly parroting someone else’s words.
“Mrs. Jenkins said that?”
Alice nodded, holding Buttercup close. “She is very put out that I am not dressed head to toe in black because Papa said I shouldn’t. And when I laugh she tells me I’m unnatural. What is that? Unnatural?”
“It’s nonsense, that’s what it is, and nothing to worry your pretty little head about,” Julia said, looking around the room, ready to slay dragons for this child. Or at the very least pop open one of the small, high windows and stuff Mrs. Jenkins out of it, onto the flagway below. “Ah, and here comes our tea, I believe.”
Alice scrambled into one of the chairs set around a low table, stuffing Buttercup into another one as a lace-capped maid carried in a large tray.
The maid stopped, wide-eyed. “Who are you?”
Julia took the tray before the maid dropped it. “I’m Julia Carruthers, Miss Alice’s new nurse…nanny. And you are…?”
“Bettyann. Good afternoon and welcome to you,” the girl said, dropping into a quick curtsy before casting her gaze toward the slightly ajar door on the far wall. “Will Mrs. Jenkins be leaving soon then, miss? She will, won’t she?”
“In there, is she?” Julia asked, following Bettyann’s nervous gaze, realizing that the uneven sounds she had been hearing were not that of wind in the eaves but rather deep snores coming from the other room. Anything less than cannon fire was not going to rouse Mrs. Jenkins. Certainly not Alice slipping out of the nursery, as she’d done only minutes ago. “Is this usual for Mrs. Jenkins?”
“Yes, miss. She mostly stays in there, and then Miss Alice flits about the house, getting underfoot—not that any of us minds, you understand. Will she be leaving then, miss?”
“Before the cat can lick its ear,” Julia said, feeling rather powerful in her new position. “I will be accompanying Miss Alice to…to Becket Hall.”
“Oh, very good, miss, very good. Miss Alice? You’ll want to eat while your porridge is warm. There’s plenty, miss, and more bowls in that cabinet over there. I’ll fetch you one.”
“Fetch two, please, Bettyann, as Mr. Becket will be joining us.”
“Oh, no, miss. He just went out. I saw him myself as he went. Mr. Gibbons said a messenger came and Mr. Becket told him everything was settled here and he had to go to the War Office to attend to something. Something very important, because Mr. Becket is very important.”
“Papa’s gone? But he promised.”
Bettyann’s features softened as she looked at the child. “He’ll be back, sweetings. And now you have Miss Carruthers.” The maid looked apprehensively at Julia. “You will stay?”
“My bags are stored with the landlord at the White Horse in Fetter Lane. If it would be possible for someone to fetch them?” Julia asked, already searching in the pocket of her gown for her purse. Her still very slim purse.
“Mr. Gibbons will send one of the footmen directly, miss. But I don’t know where to put you, begging your pardon. And Mrs. Gibbons is abed with a putrid cough these past two weeks. I suppose Mr. Gibbons might know. Oh dear, oh dear. This is all so above me.”
Before Bettyann suffered an apoplexy, Julia said, “Just have the bags taken to Mrs. Jenkins’s room, if you will.”
“But Mrs. Jenkins—”
“Will be gone,” Julia said, handing the maid a few coins.
“Before the cat can lick its ear. You said that. Oh, miss, won’t that be a treat,” Bettyann said, grinning, showing the space where one of her bottom teeth had once resided. “And Mr. Becket says you are to do this?”
“Mr. Becket has engaged my services, yes,” Julia answered, believing she’d ducked the full truth quite smoothly.
“Come sit down and eat, Julia,” Alice said around a mouthful of porridge. “Buttercup wants to tell you all about his trip to the moon last night and all the lovely cheese he brought back with him.
