Breathing heavily, Mrs May reached them. Both her hands rested on her slender hips. ‘My lord, stitching is hardly as important as arithmetic or literature, but itispart of a female’s education. I don’t think it would hurt for the young woman to stay a little longer. It might even encourage your sisters to try new things. And I will watch them all very carefully.’
It seemed Miss Nemo had somehow bewitched his housekeeper—a typically stern, but loving woman.
However, someone to distract his sisters and keep them out of trouble until he found a new governess was not a bad thing. Obviously she couldn’t stay with them indefinitely. But what harm could a few more days do? Besides, he might be able to discover her true identity and therefore make sure she safely arrived with her relatives, instead of leaving her alone in the town square.
‘That sounds very promising,’ he said, ‘but I shall need to give Miss Nemo a proper interview.’
Becca stood on her tiptoes and kissed Wick on the cheek. Then she whirled around. ‘Come, Miss Nemo. You can show us that French embroidery knot that you promised to teach us.’
Still holding Miss Nemo’s arms, his sisters began to walk away, without a look at him. Miss Nemo’s emerald eyes glanced back at him, softening his hard heart. She appeared so young. So vulnerable. He could hardly throw her to the wolves yet. But she couldn’t stay with his sisters for long. With him...
‘Wick isn’t normally this bad,’ Frederica said loftily, loudly enough for him to hear. ‘But he’s taken his position as temporary head of the family a little too seriously.’
‘He’s been worse than a rattlesnake without its rattle,’ Helen added.
‘Wick means well,’ Becca put in. ‘But he’s a man. Mother says they are all a bit stupid. It’s in their nature. They cannot help themselves.’
A wiser man would have retired from the lists, but Wick wasn’t about to let his headstrong sisters win. He offered Mrs May the support of his arm and they trailed behind them. He meant to interview Miss Nemo to find out who she truly was. And he would do it even if his three sisters pestered him the entire time.
Chapter Seven
Louisa felt dazed as the Stringham sisters led her to their mother’s favourite parlour. It was not even midday and she’d already had the best day of her life. She’d been warmly welcomed into the family and taken to see the most extraordinary baby calf that was taller than all of them! The camel leopard’s two parents had towered above them with long necks and made not a sound. Louisa had felt safest near the fence, but she’d enjoyed every minute of it.
Even when Lord Cheswick had come. He clearly disapproved of her presence, but he allowed his sisters a great deal of freedom. More than Louisa had ever known.
Now, Lord Cheswick and Mrs May followed them into the room and watched as Louisa tried to teach the Stringham sisters the complicated French knot, but when Louisa realised that the young ladies couldn’t even thread a needle, she had to start on basic stitches. She taught the girls how to do a backstitch and a running stitch. They were the two easiest.
Lady Helen shrugged, pulling her needle through. ‘I’ve never been any good at my stitches. All I ever do is prick myself and bleed on the material.’
Louisa smiled and showed her how to always point the needle away from herself. Her housekeeper at Greystone Hall, Mrs Barker, did not approve of bleeding on material, and had made sure that Louisa never did. Once all three girls were doing a running stitch, she turned to glance at Mrs May and the handsome Marquess on the other side of the room.
He beckoned her with one hand. Lowering her head, she moved towards him.
‘Will you not sit down? I have some questions about your qualifications for being a governess to my sisters.’
Louisa took a seat on the sofa next to Mrs May and the woman briefly patted her hand before folding her arms. Louisa was grateful for the encouragement.
Touching her hot cheeks, Louisa opened her mouth to say, ‘Sewing and embroidery are my only talents, my lord.’
Lord Cheswick cleared his throat. ‘Do you sew your own clothing, Miss Nemo?’
‘I have sewn my wardrobe for the last ten years.’
‘And before that?’ Mrs May asked.
She felt more blood rush to her face and internally cursed her fair complexion. ‘No. There was no need to make my own clothes when my father was alive.’
‘I knew she was an orphan!’ Lady Frederica shouted from the other side of the room.
Lord Cheswick scoffed. ‘How?’
‘All the heroines in novels are,’ his sister answered smugly.
The Marquess turned his attention back to Louisa. ‘Do you like to read novels, Miss Nemo?’
Louisa shrugged and ducked her head, embarrassed by his scrutiny and afraid that the Stringhams would no longer like her when they knew how ignorant she was. ‘I have never had the opportunity. My aunt is not a great reader, and the only books at the hall are of a scientific or mathematical nature.’
Lord Cheswick’s lips twitched. ‘Our first clue to your true identity.’