Miss Pyrmont. It is part and parcel with the way I work, I fear.”
She thought her smile was just as strained, for she very much feared the same thing.
Mrs. Dunworthy began asking Alice questions, then, and as they chatted, Emma found herself watching Sir Nicholas. Much of his food remained untouched on the plate, his long-fingered hands resting on the tablecloth beside it. His right hand was twitching, one finger beating time on the damask to sounds only he could hear. Though he answered any question put to him readily, his gaze no longer focused on the people around him. His body was present in the room, but his mind had already wandered.
Anger pricked her. Alice deserved a father who would love her. Emma was certain they existed; she’d read about them. In fact, as soon as she’d learned to read, she’d devoured stories about families. In the books she loved, fathers were kind and wise, and mothers firm but loving. Men and women married because they were deeply in love, enough to overlook all fault of upbringing or misfortune. As an orphan, Emma had been denied such a family. Why should Alice face the same fate, when her father was very much alive?
Alice said something clever, and Sir Nicholas smiled in obvious appreciation. For a moment, his gaze lit on his daughter, and those analytical eyes warmed, his angular features relaxed. In fact, he had rather expressive lips, the bottom more full than the top. Now they smiled in such a way as to cause a hitch in her breath.
Emma blinked. Why, it seemed he had potential! Perhaps he’d invited Alice to dinner for more than a chance to question Emma. Perhaps he truly cared about his daughter.
What if she could encourage him? What if she could bring him and Alice closer? Mrs. Jennings seemed to think he needed a mother for his child. Perhaps what he really needed was to learn how to be a father.
She smiled as she attacked her apple pie with enthusiasm. She knew exactly how to solve Mrs. Jennings’ problem, and her own. She would indeed start a campaign to court Sir Nicholas, for his daughter.
* * *
Nick was surprised to hear the clock on the mantle chime eight even as they finished the last of the second course. It appeared dinner had passed more quickly than it usually did.
Alice yawned.
Miss Pyrmont smiled at her. “I think perhaps we should make our curtseys, Miss Alice.”
Alice giggled. “You don’t have to miss me. I’m right here!”
Her nanny’s smile grew, and Nick knew his must match it. “Miss Pyrmont is right, Alice,” he said. “It’s time for bed.” He rose and pulled out her chair so she could climb down. Those violet-colored eyes, so like her mother’s, met his, and he felt as if someone had taken out his heart and squeezed.
Singular sensation. Singular thought.
“Good night, Papa,” she said.
Throat surprisingly tight, Nick bowed to her. “Good night, Alice.”
As he straightened, she took Miss Pyrmont’s hand and turned to Charlotte. “Good night, Auntie! Sleep tight. Mind the bugs and fleas don’t bite.”
He had never thought pink a violent color until it erupted in Miss Pyrmont’s fair complexion.
Charlotte threw down her napkin and pushed back her chair to stand. “Bugs and fleas? In my household?”
Nick barked a laugh and instantly regretted it for Charlotte’s head came up and Miss Pyrmont’s head hung.
“It’s something I learned as a child, madam,” she murmured. “It must have slipped out.”
Alice glanced between the two of them. “I like it. I don’t want the bugs to bite me.”
“Of course not,” Nick assured her. “But I’m certain if any bug even considered entering this house, one look from your auntie would drop him dead in his tracks.”
Charlotte glared at him, but he thought he heard a smothered laugh from Miss Pyrmont.
He bowed to his daughter again and to her redoubtable nanny. “Good night, ladies. Thank you for joining me for dinner. It has been most engaging.”
“Good night, sir,” Miss Pyrmont said and hurried Alice from the room as if her very life was in danger.
Seeing the look on Charlotte’s face, he thought she might be right.
“I apologize, Nicholas,” Charlotte said, picking up her napkin as she returned to her seat. “Of course I knew about Miss Pyrmont’s unfortunate early years, but I had no idea she would share anything so common with Alice. I will discharge her tomorrow.”
Nick stopped himself from sitting. “Discharge her? For a child’s rhyme? Nonsense.”
Charlotte cocked her head. “Then it doesn’t trouble you that we know nothing of her parentage?”
“Hardly. It doesn’t matter what she was when she was born. It matters who she is now. She seems to genuinely care for Alice. Surely that is what Alice needs.”
Charlotte nodded as if satisfied. “Very well, then. She stays. But I will keep a closer eye on her.”
He pitied Miss Pyrmont. “Is that necessary? I seem to recall you saying she came from a good family, though how that’s possible given she’s an orphan, I’m unsure.”
“I meant her foster family, of course,” Charlotte said with asperity. “I knew her foster mother years ago.”
By her tone, he gathered he was supposed to have known this fact. He wasn’t sure why. But then, while Ann had always encouraged his scientific pursuits, Charlotte lacked all appreciation of reasoning, as it seemed she could question nothing, not even herself.
“As Miss Pyrmont mentioned,” Charlotte continued, “her foster family took in her and three boys from the orphan asylum to raise. It was a fine act of Christian charity.”
“So it would seem,” Nick mused, finger tapping his thigh. “Though considering such a background, our nanny seems rather outspoken.”
“She exhibits a certain independence,” Charlotte agreed, and he thought he detected a trace of envy in her crisp voice. “But I don’t think her attitude will infect Alice. She’s too young to understand such things.”
He relaxed his hand. “I rather hope a spark of independence rubs off on Alice. I’d hate for my daughter to grow up an average sort of girl.”
She quirked a smile. “I doubt you’ll have any problem there.”
No, Nick thought as he bowed and left her to her thoughts. His problems at the moment were far bigger, and neither his daughter nor the intriguing Miss Pyrmont could help him solve them.
Chapter Four
Emma took her time settling Alice to sleep that night. The little girl was still wound up after dinner, telling Lady Chamomile all about the food, table settings and conversation. She seemed genuinely delighted with the whole affair. Why, then, had she claimed that Lady Chamomile was so unhappy?
Emma
