Page 8 of Papa's Rules
Chapter Three
Lord Alexander Cavendish gazed between the brocade draperies of his bedchamber, down the heavily trafficked street of his London neighborhood, then glanced at the clock on the mantle.
He was impatient as a boy waiting for St. Nicholas, he chided himself. Hardly the demeanor of a proper English lord, from a long standing family of the highest order.
What family there was left, at least. An only child, his parents had both passed away shortly after he reached adulthood. The weight of an earldom dropped upon his shoulders sooner than he had expected. Tenants and local businesses relied upon him to manage his estate properly in order to assure their own livelihoods. It was not all balls and cognac, at least not for him.
He knew it was incumbent upon him to produce an heir and he most certainly did not wish to live out the balance of his days alone. He was a man of passion and kindness. However, he was also a man with certain tastes and desires which were not always welcomed and accepted among polite society. When he came of age, he had spent several seasons making the circuit of the London balls and fetes which were the meeting ground for all of the best families. He was, even he had to admit, a handsome man with a sizeable estate and fortune and was, therefore, a target of many ambitious young ladies and their mothers. He had, for a brief period, believed himself sufficiently taken with one such young woman, Lady Honoria Brown, and had given serious consideration to making an offer of marriage to her.
However, one fateful night when she had misbehaved and he scolded her and put her in the corner, as was his want in a wife, she rebuffed his suggestion in the strongest of terms and stormed from the household.
Not only did she refuse to speak to him again, but she had spread rumors about his depravities far and wide. Surprisingly, that had made him more intriguing to a few young ladies. Regardless, he found none of them appealing and thereafter refused to attend any of the social events which were intended for those seeking spouses. He had grown lonely, and so when he had heard, through a friend with similar interests, about Miss Katrina Wickersham and Talcott House, he contacted her and much to his delight, a proper young miss had been found for him.
Cammie.
He imagined her all smiles and light, with dark curly hair in pigtails or braids. Sitting on his lap and calling him Papa.
The idea of it heated his insides and fired his loins. He had no interest in tampering with a lady who wasn’t yet of a marriageable age, he simply wished for a woman, a real woman, who would allow him the honor of caring for her in a fatherly manner which would please them both.
Miss Wickersham’s charges had all been street urchins or foundlings. Miss Wickersham appeared to be some sort of social do-gooder, which intrigued him a bit. He had ample assets and status and no need of marrying to improve his income or social standing. What he desired was a little miss to be his wife.
Movement outside the window caught his attention and he hurried to take a peek. A serviceable but not elaborate carriage stood in the driveway, the door opened to reveal first Miss Wickersham’s familiar form followed by a delightful little creature who stole his heart in an instant.
Cammie. His little Cammie tripped delicately down the steps of the carriage and looked up at the expanse of Ashton Manor with eyes wide and mouth agape. Alexander stepped away from the window, not wanting to be caught out spying upon his new arrivals, though he continued to observe from above.
She was perfect. A tiny button of a nose, large brown eyes, and a petite, but womanly form. Dressed in a plain but pretty blue gown, which was cinched at the waist and tied with a thick white ribbon, she embodied everything he had hoped for in a bride, and more. His heart filled with affection for his diminutive future wife and he rushed from the room and down the stairs in an uncharacteristic show of enthusiasm.
His butler paused in the hallway and stared at him in surprise. “I beg your pardon, my lord, I have come to relay the arrival of Miss Katrina Wickersham and Miss Cammie Hughes.”
Alexander pushed past the servant and down the stairs, though he forced himself to assume a proper demeanor before entering the drawing room to greet his guests. No, only one guest. Cammie was the other half of his soul.
Taking a deep breath, he strode into the drawing room and got his first up close look at little Cammie, the treasure of his heart. His pulse thudded in his ears and he fought against the huge smile that his lips seemed determined to form. There was no point in being so animated as to frighten his bride or her guardian.
“Good afternoon, Miss Wickersham,” he said, giving the taller of the two women a slight bow.
In return, she curtsied and reached out her hand to bring Cammie forward. “Good afternoon, Lord Cavendish. May I present to you, Miss Cammie Hughes.”
Cammie’s large brown eyes gazed up at him and the corners of her pink lips formed a nervous smile. His heart filled with wonder and awe. How had it been possible for Miss Wickersham to find the perfect tiny angel for him?
He took Cammie’s hand between both of his and returned her smile. “Welcome, Miss Hughes. I hope that you will not mind if I call you Cammie.”
The girl darted a quick glance at Miss Wickersham who gave a barely discernible nod of approval and a relieved smile broke out across the girl’s face. “Yes, I would like that.”
He continued to hold her hand in his, and drew it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss to the soft fabric on top of her gloved hand. “Welcome to Ashton Manor, Cammie.”
He felt her quick inhalation of breath, though his lips had been barred from contacting her flesh, and he glanced up to see her face flush pink, but she did not withdraw from his touch neither did she shy away from his gaze.
Miss Wickersham cleared her throat and Alexander broke contact with Cammie. “I believe there are just a few more matters for us to discuss, Lord Cavendish, and then I shall be on my way and you and Cammie may have some time to become acquainted before I return with the vicar.”
“Yes, of course. Shall we go into my library?”
“Cammie,” Miss Wickersham said, “we shall be only a few minutes. Please wait here. Do not leave this room and do not touch anything, do you understand?”
Alexander took a bit of offense at Miss Wickersham giving his little Cammie instructions, but until the final paperwork was completed and Miss Wickersham exited the premises, he supposed it was she and not he who had the final say in Cammie’s conduct and care. It would only be a matter of hours before the wedding took place.
As he escorted Miss Wickersham from the room, he glanced over his shoulder at Cammie and gave her a wink. The giggle that escaped her lips danced across his heart.
* * *
