“She was the one who made you shudder,” Jean concluded.

“She was.” Benjamin took a stub of pencil from his pocket. “Do we agree that she is unsuitable?” When Jean nodded, he made a mark on his list. “One applicant eliminated. Two, really. Because I don’t think Miss Enderby will do. She seemed no more capable than Lily.”

“Lily has done very well,” Jean said. “She’s young.”

“And so we want to hire someone she will like, who will help her along. What did you think of Miss Warren?”

“She seemed the saddest at losing her previous charges.”

“Two boys sent off to school together,” he said.

“Even though the younger was scarcely ready,” Jean added, echoing Miss Warren’s description.

“But it will be good for them to have each other’s company in a strange place,” said Benjamin, doing the same.

Jean nodded to show she recognized the phrases. “When she saw Geoffrey, I thought at first she wanted to laugh.”

“But she didn’t, of course, because that wouldn’t have been right for a proper nanny. Her eyes danced, however.”

“I think we have come to the same conclusion,” Jean said.

“Miss Warren.”

“Yes.”

“We have a similar way of thinking. I like that.” His gaze was warm on her again.

Jean’s cheeks flushed in response. “Or simple good judgment. Common sense.”

“Not so common.” He reached for her hand. “The house requires more staff, I’m told. We must do this again soon.”

“I’m sure your housekeeper would be better at finding them.” Must she always argue? Jean wondered.Yes, replied that militant inner voice. She had to hold her own.

“Perhaps. But this was so stimulating.”

It had been. Jean was about to admit it when her stomach growled. One of the lengthy, gurgling sounds it could produce when she was hungry. Almost always when she really didn’t want it to, of course. She flushed. The interviews had stretched on long past midday.

One side of Benjamin’s mouth quirked up. He rose. “Stay here,” he said.

“I should just—” How to say that her stomach required placating?

“You should just promise to stay here,” he said.

“But we’re finished with our task.”

He pointed at her. “Here.”

“Oh, very well,” Jean said, a little irritated.

He went out. Jean’s stomach growled again. At least this time she was alone. She’d go to the kitchen in a few minutes and ask for tea and bread and butter. That would have to hold her until dinner. Why had he made her wait? she wondered.

In a remarkably short time, considering his burden, Benjamin returned carrying a tray. It held appetizing slices of cold roast beef and cheese, a round of bread, a bottle of local cider, and a dish of early strawberries, whose fragrance immediately filled the room. Jean’s stomach voiced its approval of the scent with unusual vigor.

“I beg your pardon,” she said, uncertain whether she was more embarrassed about the sound or grateful for the bounty he brought.

“For what?”

Her stubborn stomach provided the answer with a particularly artistic gurgle. “I’ve always been like this. Mama said—”