Vicar's Daughter Page 3

  Since Thornton made no effort to pick the infant up despite his squirming, Christina nudged the earl out of the way and lifted the child into her arms. “I am the daughter of a vicar,” she answered. “I’ve stayed in the home of many a young mother who needed time to recover after the baby came.”

  Christina gently rocked back and forth as she looked into the eyes of the earl’s nephew. He looked to be only about a month old, but already his head was full of ink-black curls just like his uncle’s. Her heart swelled as she bent to plant a kiss on the soft cheek and breathed in the sweet baby smell. One day, she thought, she would be holding one of her own. She prayed it would be so.

  “How is your cat, my lord? I’ve been wondering how he has fared,” she asked, though her eyes were still focused on the baby.

  “Never mind about the cat! I have a problem on my hands, if you haven’t noticed. And though I’d hoped for someone more experienced in these matters,” he paused to look her over with a critical eye. “I suppose you’ll have to do.”

  Although Christina was the grandniece of a baronet, she rarely had the opportunity to be in the company of the upper classes. She had never had a “coming out” and had never attended a ball because her father did not approve. Since her life was so full here in the gentle countryside, she had not been bothered by it. Now, standing before this boorish man, Christina was even more thankful of the vicar’s disapproval if this were an example of how society behaved.

  Were they all this rude and obnoxious?

  Christina smiled stiffly. “I am thrilled you approve.”

  He apparently missed the sarcasm, since he nodded, then backed away from her and started pacing the room. “The servant girl said you could help me find a nanny, and there is no time to waste. I trust you’ll be able to procure someone by nightfall.” He stopped in the middle of the room as he finished his sentence and looked at her, lifting an imperial eyebrow for emphasis.

  “You must be joking!” she blurted. “Acquiring a nanny is a tedious and sometimes lengthy process, Lord Thornton. Of course, I know a few women whom you could interview for the position, but you must choose one who is right for this household as well as for the child.”

  Thornton narrowed his eyes. “I am not in the habit of repeating myself, Miss Wakelin, but I’ll concede you might not be too bright, so therefore I’ll make this one concession.” Ignoring her outraged gasp, he continued. “I need someone by tonight. I don’t care who it is or how far you have to travel to get her, as long as you have her here by nightfall. Is that clear?”

  Christina tried hard to hold her tongue, but it proved to be too difficult. “Perhaps you are right. If I were a bright person, I would have recognized you for the mean-spirited cad you are and not come at all!” She held out the baby to him until he reluctantly took it. “I’ll find you a nanny, and not because you are ordering me to do so, but because that poor child needs someone to look after him properly.”

  She swung around and headed for the door, angry with him for being so arrogant and demanding, and angry with herself for letting his behavior get to her.

  “Wait!” he ordered in a tone that stopped her dead in her tracks. It was a voice she imagined he had used on the battlefield.

  She turned back. What now? she wondered, bracing herself for another tirade.

  He spoke only five words.

  “Take this baby with you!”

  ❧

  One thing Nicholas knew how to do was brood, and he did plenty of it in the hours he waited for the vicar’s daughter to return.

  His thoughts ran more to the negative than to the positive. What if she couldn’t find anyone? he thought. Of course, he’d been unreasonable in his request, but he was a desperate man! A man who had no idea how he was going to raise an infant.

  He tried to think of someone who might take the child, but he realized he’d severed most of the relationships with those families who might have helped him.

  His behavior and broken engagement had cast him out of society’s good graces. And since, the ton, as the cream of all English society was referred to, had the ability to make or break someone’s reputation, he realized it might cast a shadow on his nephew’s future also.

  That is, if the poor child survived growing up first.

  There was always his aunt Wilhelmina. Perhaps she would agree to take the child on, despite the fact she traveled so much. Widowed at an early age, his aunt had never remarried nor had any children. Perhaps she would like the chance to raise a child.

  But his aunt was not in England at the moment, and he had no idea when she would return.

  It was ironic that the harder he tried to alienate himself from the world, the more responsibility the world dumped on his lap. He could, of course, live up to his reputation as a scoundrel and dump the child back at Sir Walter’s door.

  But, surprisingly, he couldn’t even contemplate it. Maybe there was some decency left in him after all. A small part that still had honor.

  He had no time to dwell on that thought, however, because his library door was pushed open at that moment without so much as a knock, and Miss Wakelin came sailing into the room.

  Nicholas was struck dumb for a moment as he took in her flushed cheeks and her wild red hair streaming about her face. Never had he known someone (especially a female, for the ones in his acquaintance had been mild-mannered, dull creatures) who appeared to have such a zest for life. When she’d first gone, he asked his housekeeper about her, and she regaled him with tales of the way Miss Wakelin took care of the animals in town and helped the people in her father’s congregation. She was never still, he was told, but always flitting about here and there, finding causes and projects to occupy her time.

  She might be a bit odd, but she was also the most fascinating woman he’d ever met.

  “Good news, my lord!” she exclaimed as she neared him, clasping her hands together. “I have hired a most suitable nanny, a Mrs. Sanborne, and she comes with high recommendations from the Duke of Northingshire himself!”

  Guilt swept over Nicholas as she spoke, for he knew the Duke of Northingshire well. They’d been the best of friends before he went to war. North, as his peers called him, tried to speak to him after his father’s death, but Nicholas spurned his offer of friendship.

  He could use a good friend now.

  But a desperate man couldn’t let guilt stand in his way of finding decent help for his situation. Nodding briefly, he gestured toward the sitting area. “Show her in then.”

  Apparently he did not give her the response she was looking for. “Is that all you can say to me? After the miles I have traveled and the people I have met to make sure your request was carried out?” she asked, clearly put out.

  Maybe it was the red hair that caused her to be so passionate about everything. “What more do you want me to say, Miss Wakelin?”

  “A simple thank-you wouldn’t hurt.”

  “All right then, thank you. Now show her in, please.”

  Rolling her eyes, Miss Wakelin whirled around and strode toward the door. Watching her, Nicholas realized the lady amused him a great deal with her colorful nature. In fact, it was getting harder to maintain a bad mood with her constantly bursting into his life.

  How was it possible to hate and love the way she made him feel at the same time? It was extremely irritating. She was extremely irritating.

  When Miss Wakelin brought the older woman into the room, Nicholas first noticed she carried the baby competently in her arms. He noticed, secondly, that she wore the biggest smile he’d ever seen on a human being.

  “Lord Thornton! May I say what a stupendous honor it is for me to be in your service! Stupendous!” she gushed as she walked up to him, gently bouncing his nephew in her arms as she went. “Might I add what a stupendous little lad he looks to be. Why, just look at how pleasant a disposition he has! Stupendous, isn’t he? Quite stupendous!” She looked up at him with a grin wider than the Thames, as if she expected him to respond to her
cheerful greeting.

  Frankly, he wasn’t sure how to respond to the woman. He’d not been confronted with this much merriment since he was a boy, and he was sure he’d never heard the word stupendous used so many times in one day, much less a few seconds.

  He looked over at Christina Wakelin. Her green eyes sparkled with mirth as she met his gaze, and he wondered if she had known the woman was such a talker when she’d hired her. Perhaps she knew a woman such as this would get on his nerves, and that was why she chose her.

  He would have to keep his wits about him in dealing with Christina Wakelin. She was either extremely crafty or a complete innocent. Either way, she could be dangerous to his peace of mind.

  Returning his attention to Mrs. Sanborne, he had to stop himself from flinching at her bright smile. Just because she’s cheerful does not mean she is incompetent, he told himself.

  And besides, in times of desperation, one could not be choosy.

  “Yes, well, Mrs. Sanborne, I’m sure Miss Wakelin has filled you in on my situation. I’m glad you could come on such short notice,” he told her briskly. “Of course, we need to discuss schedules and salary, but it can wait until the morning.” He walked behind his desk and pulled a heavy rope hanging from the ceiling that rang for the servants.

  It took only a few moments for his housekeeper to usher the new nanny out. Not before she, however, got in a few more sentences of gratitude and used that dreaded word five more times. He was left alone with Miss Wakelin.

  “Well,” Christina said in the awkward silence. “I guess since I’ve solved your little problem, I’ll be on my way.”

  “Not so fast, Miss Wakelin,” he countered, taking her arm as she tried to turn toward the door. Surprised, she spun back around and fell forward onto his chest. Nicholas steadied her, but he wasn’t prepared for the feelings that coursed through him as he held her.

  He looked down at her and their eyes met. Unfortunately, it was embarrassment and not attraction he saw in them as they widened under his inspection. “I daresay I have fallen on you again, my lord,” she mumbled as she scrambled from his arms and backed away. With cheeks rising to the color of her hair, she continued, “Was there something else you wanted to say?”

  It took a moment for Nicholas to answer, because he was still reasoning in his mind that he could not possibly be attracted to the vicar’s daughter. It had been too long since he’d been near a woman, he reasoned. Yes, of course, that must be it.

  He’d sworn off women months ago. He meant to stand by his decision.

  “You will, of course, come by tomorrow,” he said in a voice harsher than he’d intended. “I’ll leave it up to you to decide whether Mrs. Sanborne is the right nanny for my nephew.”

  Her embarrassment vanished at his words, but her cheeks were blazing now for a different reason. “I am weary, Lord Thornton, of being ordered about as if I were one of your servants. I have done as you asked, gone above and beyond what any friend would do, considering we are not friends, but it ends right here.” She thrust her chin in the air in a show of defiance. “I must insist you handle this situation on your own.”

  She turned back toward the door, and Nicholas did something he’d done only a few times in his life—he panicked. He could not allow her to leave him stranded (why this was important, he refused to ponder), so he found himself using the only ammunition at his disposal.

  Blackmail.

  “The church, Miss Wakelin, is it not a part of the Kenswick estate?”

  Those words stopped her cold in her tracks. She turned around, gazing at him through wary eyes. “The church is, but our home is not. Our small estate was given to my father by my grandfather, Sir Charles Wakelin.”

  “I am sure your father enjoys his position as vicar here in Malbury. It would be a shame if something or someone should do anything to jeopardize it,” he said evenly.

  Of course he had no plans to make good his threat, and he fully expected her to blow up at him and call his bluff.

  She did neither. Instead, she studied him calmly, as if trying to see past his haughty façade and read his true thoughts.

  When she finally did speak, her words cut him straight to the bone. “Lord Thornton, you had only to ask for my help instead of yelling orders at me, and I would have been glad to comply. Truly, the events that have led to your withdrawal from society and your abandonment of all gentlemanly behavior must have been great, indeed, for you to treat a lady so abominably.

  “I am also sorry you have no shame in using blackmail to get your way. But you must understand that God is greater than your threats and even greater than the building you are using for ammunition. That is all it is—just a building. God’s church is everyone who believes on Him. If you take away our walls, we will not cease to exist but will simply find another place to join together and worship Him.”

  Miss Wakelin was wrong. Nicholas was feeling his shame most acutely. “Miss Wakelin, I—”

  “Say no more, my lord. I shouldn’t have gotten angry at your suggestion, and I apologize. I’ve suddenly remembered why I came here today. I felt God had opened a door for me to help you. You see, I’d been praying He would ever since I fell out of your tree,” she said with a sad smile. “God has, evidently, not closed the door, so you can count on me to assist you in any way I can. And, of course, I want to do all I can for young Tyler. I’ll call directly after breakfast tomorrow.”

  So stunned was he that she’d apologized to him, he could not get out a reply before she quit the room.

  Four

  The morning came too quickly for Christina, who had not slept well at all during the night. What was it about the autocratic man that disturbed her so? He was much like all the other nobles she’d ever been acquainted with—self-absorbed, haughty, and so unaware of the lesser classes beneath them.

  Not wanting to dwell on him more than she should, Christina chose a pale yellow day dress, accented with blue ribbon around its high waist and cap sleeves. The spring color brought a little cheer to her mood, and she determined by the time she walked downstairs to the breakfast table that she’d be her normal sunny self.

  And she was, especially when she saw her friend Helen sitting at the table with her father.

  “Helen!” Christina exclaimed as she took her seat to the left of her father and across from her friend. “What brings you to us so early?”

  “Why, it’s all over the village, Christina, so I had to come hear the news from your lips straightaway!” The fact that Helen said this as if she were shocked made Christina wary.

  “Um, I’m not sure what you heard. . . .”

  “I’d like to hear your explanation as well, Daughter. I heard from Cook you arrived home at a late hour last night,” Reverend Wakelin interjected. “What kind of mischief are you about now that concerns that scalawag, Thornton?”

  Christina swallowed as she looked from Helen to her father. “I have only been assisting his lordship in procuring a nanny for his young nephew. Yesterday I traveled all over the shire until I found one suitable.”

  Helen’s eyes glinted. “That’s not what I heard from my maid, who got the news directly from one of Lord Thornton’s kitchen help! She said. . .” Helen paused for effect and leaned forward, causing the ribbons of her dress to dip into her orange marmalade. “She said you visited Lord Thornton’s home not once but twice yesterday!”

  “Yes, but there was a perfectly good reason—”

  “Lord Thornton is not a gentleman I would see you associate with, Christina,” her father interjected. “From all accounts I would say he is considered the scoundrel of all English society.”

  Helen sniffed. “I tried to tell her the very same thing, Reverend Wakelin, but she quoted one of your sermons to me and demanded I not judge him.”

  A grin formed on the vicar’s face, though Christina could tell he tried to hide it. “Ah, so you do listen to some of the things I preach about.”

  “Of course, I do, Father, and I heed every wor
d.”

  “If that is true, then it must have been someone else who trespassed on Lord Thornton’s property and climbed his tree,” he responded dryly.

  Christina threw a disgruntled look at Helen, but she quickly threw up her hands in defense. “I never said a word!”

  “Of course not,” the vicar seconded. “I heard it from Cook, just this morning.”

  Christina took a careful sip of her hot tea. “I think the servants gossip entirely too much. Something should be done about it.”

  Her father only gave her an indulgent smile. “You only think so, Daughter, when the gossip concerns you.”

  Christina sighed as she buttered her bread. “You have a point, Father—one that may not be entirely accurate, but a point all the same.” She looked up to find her father giving her one of those I-can-see-right-through-you stares, so she felt the need to blurt, “Oh, all right. I suppose I should confess my true reasons for helping the Earl of Kenswick.”

  Helen slapped her hand on the table. “I knew it!” she declared with a triumphant smile. “I knew you were in love with the earl! I did not believe the excuse about the cat for a minute!”

  Christina prudently didn’t remind Helen it was she who’d sent Christina after it in the first place. “Helen, I do believe that is the silliest thing I’ve ever heard come from your lips. I’d sooner fall in love with that ragged cat of his than waste my feelings on him.” She took another sip of tea and patted her mouth daintily with her napkin. “You can be assured Lord Thornton feels exactly the same way about me. He was quite put out when he realized who I was that day at the tree.”

  Helen leaned back in her chair and smiled dreamily. “How romantic! He remembers you from childhood.”

  “You misunderstand me.”

  “I would imagine his lordship remembers how Christina used to follow him and his brother all around the village,” Reverend Wakelin inserted dryly.

  Christina put out a hand. “Please go no further. Lord Thornton has already listed my numerous misadventures, and I’d rather not hear them again, thank you!”