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“Today?” The groom squinted one blue eye. “That’s… Hmm. I’ve a prospect or two, I suppose. The beasties won’t come cheap if you want them now and already trained for children, though. The Hendersens’ve been looking to sell off their ponies and purchase some full-sized animals for their young ones.”
“Now is what matters. They’ve never ridden before, and I don’t want them terrified.” Or dreaming about a cottage full of puppies and eager to leave Winnover the moment their brother snapped his fingers. “If you purchase the animals from anyone we know, please make it clear the horses are for my visiting niece and nephew.”
With a nod he glanced past her toward the house. “Niece and nephew. As you say, ma’am.”
Yes, every additional lie made everything more complicated. But the children needed to be explained in a way that would not cause any gossip back in London. She’d managed it on paper for seven years, but actual children made the task trickier. And with the addition of James, it became nearly impossible. But these were the youngsters they’d chosen. And aside from keeping Winnover and Will’s employment intact, if ever any children deserved a chance at a better life, it was Rose and George Fletcher.
Of course, now that she was about to add riding lessons into the mix, they had another problem. If she knew anything, it was that Rose wouldn’t be satisfied without a riding habit to wear. And with less than a day to procure one, desperate measures were called for.
As soon as they finished the first, disastrous embroidery lesson, she sent Rose off to the pond to find Will and George, while she and Hannah climbed the narrow stairs up to the attic to find her old clothes. “Look for a blue trunk,” she said, shifting a dreadful painting of roses and oranges to one side. Her grandmother’s handiwork, most likely—Grandmother Agnes, the late Duchess of Welshire, had always fancied herself an artist, and everyone in the family had at least one of her pieces hidden somewhere in their attic. There had been an equally gaudy pair of silver candlesticks up there, as well, holding up the painting, but perhaps Powell had decided even the hidden-away valuables needed to be polished.
“This one, Mrs. Pershing?” Hannah pulled off another sheet.
“Yes, that’s it. I think these things will be too large for Rose, but we’ll see what we come up with.”
The twenty-year-old clothes looked both familiar and from someone else’s life. When they dug out a dark blue skirt, Emmie ran her fingers along the heavy material. “This is it. The jacket should be there, as well. I’m afraid it won’t be very fashionable, even given your magical skills with needle and thread.”
Hannah tilted her head, assessing the garment. “I believe I can make it serviceable,” she said. “I should have it for the little one in the morning.”
“Excellent. I can’t wait to see her in her own riding habit.” And there was no point in presenting a bribe halfway.
“I’m happy to help.” Hannah gathered the habit into her arms while Emmie closed the trunk again. “In fact, I’ve been thinking. Children—your children—would have a nanny at their age, would they not?”
Why had that not occurred to her? Probably for the same reason she’d never expected Rose to want to learn fencing; she had no experience with youngsters beyond her own childhood, and in her journals she excelled at looking after the youngsters all on her own. Adding another servant would just needlessly complicate matters. “I suppose they would,” she said. “But given that everyone who meets them at Welshire Park will simply assume they do have a nanny, I don’t think we need to provide one. And with a signed agreement, and now with their brother here, I don’t think we have to worry about them fleeing.”
“Of course, Mrs. Pershing. I just thought I’d mention it.” Standing, Hannah shifted toward the attic door.
That had sounded… uncomfortable. Emmie looked at her longtime maid’s back. Oh. Her well-trained, well-disciplined staff continued to surprise and please her. She needed to begin paying closer attention. “Hannah, you do far too much for me, already. I’m not about to either ask you to take on the children as well, or accept your offer to do so. Even you must have to sleep sooner or later.”
That earned her a smile. “You are a very kind, and very generous, woman, Mrs. Pershing. I will say, if you ever have other duties while the children are taking their riding lessons, I’d be happy to help keep an eye on them.”
Ah. “Outside, you mean? By the stable? Where… Billet will be?”
This time Hannah blushed. “Yes, Tom does work at the stable, but that has nothing to do with my offer.”
Tom. That was Billet’s first name. “Very well. I shall keep your offer in mind, Hannah. And thank you.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Ponies!”
Will handed his correspondence regarding James Fletcher to Powell, then had to dodge as both children flew down the stairs to the foyer and vanished down the hallway with laughs and squeals echoing behind them. Riding lessons weren’t part of the agreement, and he frowned as he followed in their wake. Perhaps a group of gypsies or a traveling carnival was passing down the road—though with Rose’s wariness about being kidnapped by gypsies, he doubted the girl would dare approach them.
Emmeline was already in the kitchen, and she whipped around as he stepped into the room. “Ponies?”
“Oh. I meant to tell you.”
He could make a guess at the reason for their presence, but livestock was generally part of his duties. “Do ponies trump puppies, then?”
“You said we should allow them to make the most of this experience,” Emmeline said, hugging her scheduling book to her chest. “George is afraid of horses, and Rose is tiny. Ponies made sense.”
“I don’t disagree,” he said. “Should I ask how much they cost?”
“No, you should not.”
“Ah. Very well, then.” With all of their possessions contained in two sacks with room to spare, the children needed, well, everything, including some things he and Emmeline couldn’t provide. Some of the things they could provide, however, would be more useful than others. “We can’t send ponies back to the orphanage with them, you know.”
“We’re not sending them back,” she pointed out. “The ponies or the children. We’ll find somewhere better, or their brother will… become their guardian, I suppose.”