allowed to go outside without a maid.’ He sounded gruffer than he intended.
Lizzie lifted her shoulders. ‘Nanny said everyone was busy.’
‘Then you wait.’ He ran his hands through his hair. ‘Look, if you can’t do as you are told, Lizzie, then I’m sorry, but you know the consequences.’
Lizzie burst into tears. ‘Nooooo!’
The woman thrust herself between Lizzie and himself. ‘Leave the poor child alone. She has been punished enough, I should think. Look.’ She gently pulled Lizzie forward and held out her hand for his inspection.
It was covered in white bumps with red edges. His stomach churned. His brain went numb at the sight of the painful swelling. ‘Go,’ he yelled. ‘Upstairs. Get Nanny to put something on it.’
‘I gave her dock leaves,’ Lady Marguerite said. Her voice was beautifully modulated, if a little deeper than most women’s. For some reason it calmed him.
She crouched down. ‘Take the leaves to your nanny, she will know what to do.’ Lizzie nodded and ran off with Janey scurrying behind.
Jack hated to see his children hurt. Could not abide it. Why the devil would they not do as he had instructed and stay indoors with Nanny James?
The young woman rose to her feet. She was almost tall enough to look him in the eye. And delightfully feminine, despite her drab clothing. ‘What on earth are you about, Lord Compton?’
He stared blankly ‘About?’
‘Those children should not be wandering the countryside alone. Anything could happen.’
‘Do you think I don’t know that?’
She blinked.
Damn and blast, he had raised his voice. Again. He lowered his tone. ‘They know better. I have told them time and time again.’
Her finely arched eyebrows, a darker auburn than her hair, lowered. Her pretty green eyes narrowed. ‘The gate to the lane was open. They were a long way from home and you had no idea of it. Children of their age need proper adult supervision.’
Good lord, who was she to come here laying down the law? He was the magistrate. ‘Nonsense. They have proper supervision. Indoors.’
‘I see.’ She looked completely unconvinced.
‘There is a nanny, three footmen and a cook, all there to see that they have whatever their little hearts desire. Is that enough supervision for you, madam?’ Devil take it, why was he explaining himself to this woman? He took a deep breath.
Somehow, she managed to look down her nose at him. ‘Not enough of the right sort of supervision, apparently, and while a punishment is likely in order, I beg that it be denial of some privilege, a story at bedtime, a visit to the village, something that will not cause physical pain.’
Stunned, he stared at her. Pain?
She narrowed her eyes. ‘Good day, Lord Compton.’ She spun around and marched back the way she had come.
How dare she come here and accuse him of not looking after his children? And...and did she think he was going to beat them? Damn her, for judging him so poorly. ‘Johnson, get a chain and a lock and secure the damned gate. And find out who left it open.’
He strode for the nursery. As he expected, his daughters, his little girls, were gathered around Nanny’s chair. They looked so innocent. So sweet. They were the bane of his life.
No. No. That was not true. But somewhere along the line he had lost control. And that would not do. A man needed to be in control of his family or bad things happened. A shudder ran down his spine. The memory of what had happened to his wife when she took it in her head to go visit her scallywag of a brother without his knowledge leapt to the forefront of his mind. If he had been stricter, more in control of his wife, she would be alive today.
‘Elizabeth, what on earth were you thinking?’ He fixed his gaze on his oldest daughter. ‘I have warned you about this sort of thing. This was your last chance, I am afraid. As I said, you must face the consequences.’
‘Now, now, Master Jack,’ Nanny said. ‘What has you in a pelter?’
‘In a pelter?’ He stared at the woman who had been his wife’s nanny. ‘I can assure you I am not in a pelter. I would simply like to be informed why my daughters ignored my orders and went roaming the countryside. That is not too much to ask, is it?’
Elizabeth stared at the carpet and the toe of her shoe traced the pattern on the carpet. ‘No, Papa,’ she whispered.
Now he felt like an ogre. He steeled his resolve. He could not give in. Would not.
‘We wanted to find a frog,’ Janey announced as if that was a perfectly good explanation. ‘Bert told Sam there are frogs in that field over there. He put one in his sister’s bed and made her scream.’
She was talking about two of his grooms. Which meant they had been hanging about the stables. Another thing they were not supposed to do. Horses were dangerous.
Janey’s eyes filled with tears. ‘But we couldn’t catch one. Then I wanted to pick a bouquet for you, but I couldn’t reach the flower and then the weeds bit Lizzie and she screamed. I was frightened.’
He winced. ‘Were you?’
She nodded. ‘Then the nice lady came along.’ She beamed up at him. ‘And here we are.’ Her expression changed. ‘We didn’t mean to be bad, Papa. It won’t happen again.’ Her lower lip trembled. He reached out and she stepped into the circle of his arm.
‘No crying,’ he said. He couldn’t bear it if they cried. He picked her up and held her close to his chest. Unfortunately, they knew their tears troubled him and he was never sure if they were real or if they were simply using them to get their way.
He also did not fancy carrying out his threat. But how could he run his estate if he was always worrying about his girls getting into some sort of scrape? His only option was to send for his spinster aunt Ermintrude. She would keep the girls in order.
He’d been terrified of her as a lad. ‘I am sorry, but I cannot have the rules disregarded in this way. I will write to your great-aunt today.’
Nanny paled. ‘They won’t do it again, dearie.’
Netty climbed on to Nanny’s lap and stuck her thumb in her mouth. Almost three already. He could scarcely believe it was nearly two years since Amanda had been brutally murdered. And still Netty wasn’t talking. Nanny kept telling him there was nothing wrong. That she would talk when she was ready, but Jack was starting to worry.
‘Please, Papa,’ Elizabeth said, clasping her little hands to her chest. ‘We promise we won’t do it again.’
No tears from Elizabeth.
‘You promise?’ he said, suddenly weary. ‘On your word of honour?’
‘Yes. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.’
He put Janey down. ‘This
