Chapter Three
Nicholas went downstairs to greet the latest member of his extended family, wishing his sister had arrived in time to assist him. He entered the great hall as a young woman handed her bonnet and pelisse to Abercrombie, her maid standing beside her.
“Miss Leeming. Caroline. It is good to see you again,” he said. How did one greet the sister of his wards? She would be a guest in his house for several weeks. Did he kiss her cheek? He chose not to, sensing it would not be welcome, and instead, bent in a slight bow. “I trust you had a comfortable journey?”
She bobbed a curtsey.
“It wasn’t as terrible as I expected, my lord,” she said. “Fortunately, the weather improved once we’d left Yorkshire.” In a graceful, unconscious gesture, she put up a hand to tuck away a glossy auburn lock that had escaped its pins. Huge, clear brown eyes observed him with a serious expression beneath straight dark eyebrows.
He eyed her appreciatively as a man, while more than a little apprehensively in his role of managing her debut. Caroline held the promise of prettiness when he’d last seen her. A schoolroom miss, she’d glared at him, which surprised him at the time. Now twenty years old, this young woman would be considered a diamond of the first water by the ton. Tall, willowy, and graceful, her features finely wrought, her mouth perfect—if her lips weren’t pressed so firmly together. He feared she still wanted to glare at him, although now too polite to allow him to see it. The responsibility for the Leeming children weighed even more heavily upon him. Fortunately, his sister, Gwen, would chaperone Caroline.
A footman opened the door for them to enter the morning room, a less formal room, which might put her at her ease. “Bella is with her governess. I’ve sent someone to fetch her.”
She sat on the sofa, and Nicholas took the armchair opposite. “A footman will introduce your maid to the staff.”
If he’d expected a will-o’-the-wisp clasping a volume of poetry to her chest, he couldn’t have been more wrong. Beneath her dark lashes, she was making a critical study of him. He resisted tugging at his cravat like some callow youth. She would have the younger male members of the ton on their knees and a good deal of the older fellows, too. With dread, Nicholas thought of the rakes and fortune hunters who would undoubtedly circle like hungry wolves. Especially as her dowry was handsome.
He eased his shoulders. Perhaps there was no need for him to worry. He would be able to find a suitable match among the gentlemen seeking a wife this Season. One or two he could bring immediately to mind. Decent fellows. She might be engaged before the Season’s end. With Caroline in his sister’s care in London, Bella in the schoolroom, and Jeremy back at Eton after the holidays, his treasured independence would be preserved, leaving him to work on his book. He smiled at her, somewhat reassured.
“I should like to discuss Bella and Jeremy with you when you have a moment, my lord,” Caroline said, her voice sweet but firm. “Jeremy has not done well in his studies this past year, which is entirely excusable after we lost our dear papa, but I should not want it to continue. He is to go to Oxford in a few years. His dream is to become an archeologist. Bella will soon require a dance instructor, and she must continue with the harp.”
“Not the harp,” he said more sharply than he intended.
She stiffened.
“We have an excellent piano in the music room.”
“But, my lord, Bella has always…”
He shook his head decisively. “Young ladies performing the instrument at musicales with a lack of finesse are grindingly dull. Pluck pluck, pluck. Why not something more pleasing, like the piano or the violin?”
“Bella has shown some promise, my lord.”
“You can’t continue to call me, my lord, Carrie.” He deliberately used Caroline’s nickname, hoping to banish the starch from her spine. “Nicholas is my given name, which is quite appropriate.”
She flushed slightly, and he caught sight of deep hurt in her eyes. “Yes...I understand. Papa left a letter…Nicholas.”
It made him feel like a cad. Of course, she still mourned her father. Max had been a loveable fellow and a wonderful father. Nicholas, being twelve years older than she, must make her view him as Bella did, like an uncle. He couldn’t help disliking the notion, adopting an avuncular manner didn’t sit well with him, but perhaps it was wise if the governess’s warning proved correct, and their youthful exuberance required a firm hand. He would not allow her two siblings to run rings around him and disturb the peace he’d worked hard to achieve since the war, and neither would he allow Carrie to make unreasonable demands.
“While I agree with most of what you ask of me, I cannot countenance the harp,” he said in a milder tone. “I shall employ a tutor to teach Bella another instrument.”
Carrie’s eyebrows lowered, and her lips firmed, but she made no further objection. He suffered the uneasy feeling she was biding her time. “I should like Bella to live with me once I have my own establishment.”
He wasn’t about to agree to anything yet. “We’d best leave that decision until you are married.”
At that moment, the door burst open. “Carrie! I’ve been so lonely without you.” With a sob, Bella ran across the carpet to throw her arms around her sister.
“It hasn’t been very long, goose,” Carrie said, hugging her.
A little shamefaced, Bella,
