Page 16 of Second Chances
“Georgie,” he said, unconsciously using the shortened form of her name she had asked him two years ago to stop using, “do you really believe I would allow any lady—or her mother—to dictate to me what I do for and with my children? Do you really believe I would send either you or Robert away from me, to use your own emphasis?”
She stared at him with her tear-filled eyes. “She is beautiful, Papa,” she said, “and I know gentlemen admire beautiful ladies and sometimes lose their wits over them.”
Oh, Lord, where the devil had she heard that?
“I have a daughter and a son,” he said. “I lost my wits to them when they were born, Georgette, and have not recovered them since. Nor do I wish to. Do you not know that you and Robert are all in all to me? Yes, I admire beautiful ladies, especially those who also have beautiful characters and like my children. I may even marry one such lady one of these days. But only if I believe I can make her happy and make my children happy as well. I would never put my own happiness above yours and Robert’s.”
“I don’t remember Mama very clearly,” she said, “and Robbie does not remember her at all.”
“I know,” he said, patting her knee again. “She loved you both very, very much.”
“I wish she hadn’t had to die,” she said.
“So do I, Georgie,” he said.
“But since she had to,” she said, “then I think you ought to have another wife, Papa, so that you will not be lonely any more. No, stop. I know you are going to say you aren’t lonely, that Robbie and I are enough for you, but we aren’t really enough. And I know you try to be a father and a mother to us, and you are the best papa ever. But you cannot be our mother too. We want a new one. And it is not because we don’t love our real mama because we do. Forever and ever, Papa. But she can’t be here with us, and we want someone who can be. We want a new mama. We have both looked for one. We have looked at home, and we looked in London, but we have never found the right one.”
He would be bawling too if he was not careful, Michael thought, reaching across and scooping her up, all gangly arms and legs, to deposit on his lap. She was sniffing and scowling.
“Until now,” she added defiantly, as though she expected he would reprimand her any moment. “We have found her, Papa, and we both want her. It’s not just me, and it’s not just Robbie. We both agree. But she cannot be our mama unless she is your wife and you have scarcely looked at her all week until you went walking with her this afternoon, and those other two have been trying to take your attention and trying to convince everyone else that you are practically betrothed to Miss Everly and pretty soon you will be whether you like it or not. And then you will have to marry her, and she will be your wife but she will never be our mama but we will have lost our chance to have one and in the meanwhile—”
“Georgie,” he said firmly. “Stop, sweetheart. Take a breath.”
She was fisting and unfisting her hands in her lap. She was gasping for breath.
“I am not going to marry Miss Everly," he told her. “I have made that clear to both her and Lady Connaught. And I will never marry anyone of whom you and Robert do not approve. But as for Miss Thompson, you know, I can make no promises. You can want her as a mama all you wish and I can want her as a wife all I wish, but if she does not want to have me as a husband and you and Robert as her children...well, there is nothing we can do about it, is there?”
She looked up at him, her eyes wide with incredulity. “Papa,” she said, “you are the Earl of Staunton. You are rich. And you are handsome and nice and you have a lovely smile and you are not so very old. You could have any lady you want. I have seen the way ladies look at you. Do you seriously think you cannot make Miss Thompson love you and agree to marry you? The only thing that might make her not want you is me because I am Difficult and maybe Precocious and I talk a lot and ask endless questions because I want to know things. But I think she likes me anyway, so I am not a complete liability. Papa—”
He hugged her close and kissed the top of her head. “I want you to promise me something, Georgette,” he said. “I want you to promise that you will not say a word to Miss Thompson about all this, about wanting her to be your mama. At best you may embarrass her. At worst you may distress her. She is an independent lady with a life of her own. She has a rich life in Bath and many responsibilities there. She owes us nothing. You must promise me.”
He heard her sigh. “I promise,” she said. “But, Papa, you must promise not to be a slow-top. We have only one more week here, and after that we may never see her again.”
Fortunately Robert came into the room at that moment and jumped up onto the bed to snuggle close.
“Well?” Michael asked, setting an arm about him. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Mmm,” Robert said and yawned hugely. “Tommy fell asleep in the middle of the last story and had to be carried to bed.”
“Did he?” Michael said. “And you are going to be asleep pretty soon too. We had better get you undressed and tucked up in your bed before it happens.”
Pinnacle moments of great joy were all very well while one was living them but not so wonderful when they were over, Eleanor thought over the next few days. Everything had come together to form perfection—the lovely setting by the lake, the warm summer weather, the easy conversation, the kiss. Ah, the kiss. It was her first for years and years. Indeed, she had only ever been kissed before by Gregory and that was so long ago that it seemed rather like something from another lifetime.
She would not refine too much upon this kiss, she decided as soon as she was alone again. It had flowed naturally from the occasion and was no indicator of undying love and an impending proposal of marriage. The very idea was ludicrous. She was a confirmed spinster of almost forty. She would not feel guilty about the kiss either. It was true that he must be considering marriage with Miss Everly. Christine had remarked in her hearing one day that she had invited the ladies because it appeared to be general knowledge that Miss Everly and the Earl of Staunton were a couple headed inevitably to the altar. But they were not officially betrothed yet, and Eleanor fervently hoped they never would be—entirely for the children’s sake, of course. Oh, and for his sake too as she could not like Miss Everly and could not quite believe he would be happy with her.
Oh, and for your own sake too, Eleanor, she admitted to herself rather crossly. She could not bear the thought of him with someone as shallow as Miss Everly. Or with any other woman for that matter.
Eleanor avoided him as much as she could. She did not wish him to feel obligated in any way to her. She certainly did not want to give anyone the impression that she was pursuing him. Those cool silver eyes of Wulfric’s rested speculatively upon her quite enough as it was, and Christine and Hazel did not miss much either.
The Earl of Staunton appeared to be avoiding her too. Certainly he made no further effort to single her out for walks or conversation.
He played cricket and rowed on the lake. He played billiards and blind man’s buff. He read the morning papers and stories to his children. He wrote letters and sat conversing with various groupings of adults. He went riding and fishing with a party of gentlemen and a few children. He turned pages of music at the pianoforte for one young lady and sang a duet with Hazel and laughed with her afterward over one ear-jarringly wrong note for which each assumed the blame. He went swimming and helped plan and direct a treasure hunt.
He was enjoying himself, Eleanor believed, and that indeed was the whole purpose of a country house party. He did not totally ignore her. He sat beside her a few times in the dining room and in groups that included her in the drawing room and out on the terrace. He fetched a book from the library that he had heard her say she wished to read. He chose to join her team for a spirited game of charades one evening and strolled over the wilderness walk with a group that included her one afternoon. He smiled whenever their eyes met and often had a word for her when they were close.
She felt slightly depressed and berated herself for being a fool.
To protect herself from further hurt yet without even realizing she was doing it, she adopted a manner of almost severe reserve whenever she was in his presence. She set her mind to other things. She wrote to Hortense Renney, the teacher who was interested in purchasing the school from her. Hortense was intelligent, well educated and well read, cheerful and energetic, and well liked by all. In her letter Eleanor did not mention staying on as a teacher. She would wait and see if Hortense suggested it and then decide if she would accept or not. They were friends, but Hortense might find the switch in their roles uncomfortable. So might she.
