note of disappointment creep into his voice. ‘I am.’
Getting to his feet with the aid of his stick, he took off his hat and his hair shone in the sun like a halo; he stood to attention, bowing from the waist. ‘May I introduce myself, Ma’am? Edward Mableton, at your service.’
Chapter Five
Hearing her mistress’s cry of surprise, Kitty spun around to see Lady Mableton jump to her feet, clutching her hand to her breast. The tall army officer seemed to be just as taken aback and, for a moment they stood, mutely staring at each other. The gentleman appeared to recover first and his taut features relaxed into a charming smile that, although it was not directed at her, went straight to Kitty’s heart. It seemed to have the same effect on Lady Mableton, who hesitated for a moment, and then tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. Slowly, they began to walk, their heads inclined towards each other, so rapt in each other’s company that they seemed to have forgotten that anyone but themselves existed.
Kitty picked up Leonie and put her in her favourite toy of the moment, a galloping gig with two wooden horses that pranced when the chair was pushed along. Leonie gave a token protest and called for her mama, but quietened immediately when Kitty put the reins in her chubby little hands. Following them at a discreet distance, Kitty could see that they seemed to have a lot to talk about. He must, she thought, be a very old friend.
When they reached the house in Dover Street, Kitty was astonished to see that, instead of taking his leave and walking away, the officer rang the doorbell. Even more astounding, when Warner opened the door, his eyes widened with surprise and then, strangest of all, he actually smiled. Following them into the vestibule, Kitty lifted Leonie from the gig and, as Bob came to wheel it away, she caught him by the sleeve.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Don’t you know?’ Bob grinned at her, jerking his head in the direction of the officer. ‘That’s Captain Edward, Sir Desmond’s son, come home from the war in the Sudan where he’d been wounded in battle. He’s a hero.’
Bursting with the news, Kitty took Leonie by the hand, leading her up the three flights of stairs to the nursery. No wonder her ladyship had looked surprised and pleased at the safe return of her stepson. He was a handsome young man and he didn’t seem to be anything at all like his sister, Miss Iris, and bore no resemblance at all to Sir Desmond. He must, she thought, take after his poor dead mother, while Miss Iris was definitely very much like her father. Kitty had learned to be very careful when it came to Miss Iris. You never quite knew what sort of mood she would be in; she could be happy and smiling one minute, especially if Mr Rackham was there, but she could turn in a moment, sour as yesterday’s milk.
Leonie’s chubby legs made climbing the stairs a slow process and, growing impatient, Kitty carried her the rest of the way. Kicking and screaming, Leonie made it clear that she did not appreciate this indignity and Kitty was relieved to set her down on the nursery floor. She was about to pass on the news that Captain Edward had come home safe and sound, but she stopped short. Nanny Smith was hunched in her rocking chair by the empty hearth, with her hands covering her face and great sobs shaking her whole body.
‘You must not cry,’ Leonie said, toddling over to Nanny and tugging at her apron string. ‘Stop it, I say.’
Scooping Leonie up in her arms, Kitty sat her at the nursery table, where afternoon tea was laid out ready. ‘Nanny’s not well, Miss Leonie. You eat up your tea like a good girl and then I’ll read you a story.’
Leonie snatched a slice of bread and butter and crammed it into her mouth.
‘Good girl,’ Kitty said, filling her beaker with milk. ‘You eat up while I look after poor Nanny.’ Making sure that Leonie had enough food to keep her busy for a while, Kitty went over to Nanny.
Getting to his feet with the aid of his stick, he took off his hat and his hair shone in the sun like a halo; he stood to attention, bowing from the waist. ‘May I introduce myself, Ma’am? Edward Mableton, at your service.’
Chapter Five
Hearing her mistress’s cry of surprise, Kitty spun around to see Lady Mableton jump to her feet, clutching her hand to her breast. The tall army officer seemed to be just as taken aback and, for a moment they stood, mutely staring at each other. The gentleman appeared to recover first and his taut features relaxed into a charming smile that, although it was not directed at her, went straight to Kitty’s heart. It seemed to have the same effect on Lady Mableton, who hesitated for a moment, and then tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. Slowly, they began to walk, their heads inclined towards each other, so rapt in each other’s company that they seemed to have forgotten that anyone but themselves existed.
Kitty picked up Leonie and put her in her favourite toy of the moment, a galloping gig with two wooden horses that pranced when the chair was pushed along. Leonie gave a token protest and called for her mama, but quietened immediately when Kitty put the reins in her chubby little hands. Following them at a discreet distance, Kitty could see that they seemed to have a lot to talk about. He must, she thought, be a very old friend.
When they reached the house in Dover Street, Kitty was astonished to see that, instead of taking his leave and walking away, the officer rang the doorbell. Even more astounding, when Warner opened the door, his eyes widened with surprise and then, strangest of all, he actually smiled. Following them into the vestibule, Kitty lifted Leonie from the gig and, as Bob came to wheel it away, she caught him by the sleeve.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Don’t you know?’ Bob grinned at her, jerking his head in the direction of the officer. ‘That’s Captain Edward, Sir Desmond’s son, come home from the war in the Sudan where he’d been wounded in battle. He’s a hero.’
Bursting with the news, Kitty took Leonie by the hand, leading her up the three flights of stairs to the nursery. No wonder her ladyship had looked surprised and pleased at the safe return of her stepson. He was a handsome young man and he didn’t seem to be anything at all like his sister, Miss Iris, and bore no resemblance at all to Sir Desmond. He must, she thought, take after his poor dead mother, while Miss Iris was definitely very much like her father. Kitty had learned to be very careful when it came to Miss Iris. You never quite knew what sort of mood she would be in; she could be happy and smiling one minute, especially if Mr Rackham was there, but she could turn in a moment, sour as yesterday’s milk.
Leonie’s chubby legs made climbing the stairs a slow process and, growing impatient, Kitty carried her the rest of the way. Kicking and screaming, Leonie made it clear that she did not appreciate this indignity and Kitty was relieved to set her down on the nursery floor. She was about to pass on the news that Captain Edward had come home safe and sound, but she stopped short. Nanny Smith was hunched in her rocking chair by the empty hearth, with her hands covering her face and great sobs shaking her whole body.
‘You must not cry,’ Leonie said, toddling over to Nanny and tugging at her apron string. ‘Stop it, I say.’
Scooping Leonie up in her arms, Kitty sat her at the nursery table, where afternoon tea was laid out ready. ‘Nanny’s not well, Miss Leonie. You eat up your tea like a good girl and then I’ll read you a story.’
Leonie snatched a slice of bread and butter and crammed it into her mouth.
‘Good girl,’ Kitty said, filling her beaker with milk. ‘You eat up while I look after poor Nanny.’ Making sure that Leonie had enough food to keep her busy for a while, Kitty went over to Nanny.
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