Louise M Gouge by A Suitable Wife

the viscount’s arm brushed against Beatrice’s, and a pleasant shiver swept over her making her fully aware of his height and masculine presence. Gracious, what was the matter with her? She cleared her throat and returned her attention to the child.
    “Lord Greystone speaks the truth. You may trust him.” Her words earned her a warm smile and a conspiratorial wink from the gentleman, and another pleasant feeling swept through her. A bit breathlessly, she suggested, “Perhaps you can send for a footman to do the honors?”
    “It has already been ordered, Lady Beatrice.” Again his smile stirred a giddy feeling within her. “I do believe we think alike in this matter.” A frown darted across his brow, but he shook it away and focused on the child. Then, as if to confirm his words, several footmen entered the bedchamber carrying a large brass tub and buckets of steaming water.
    Kit squirmed and sniffed, his eyes wide with fear. Her heart breaking for his terror, Beatrice bent down as close as she dared and whispered, “If you are brave and let them bathe you, I shall ask Lord Greystone to bring you sweetmeats as a reward.”
    “Sweeties? For me?” Now his wide eyes filled with wonder. He held his arm, sat up and seemed to shake off his fright. “I’ll do it fer you, miss.” He offered her an impish grin. “And for the sweeties.”
    Again Lord Greystone and Mrs. Parton laughed in harmony. Beatrice joined them, filled with a sense of a companionship such as she had not experienced since Mama died.
    * * *
    Against his better judgment Greystone permitted himself to enjoy the moment. He could not deny that Lady Beatrice intrigued him. This was no spoiled lady who refused to let her clothes be soiled by the work at hand. In fact she seemed not to notice the soot on her pretty new frock and white kid gloves. How different was her willingness to be involved with this child from her brother’s apathy to any charitable matter introduced in the House of Lords. How could a brother and sister be so dissimilar? Greystone tried to build an inner wall to block out the effects Lady Beatrice had on him, but her gentle, generous spirit breached all his defenses. With luck this would be a passing attraction, one that would mellow into kind regard. For now there was a child to deal with, and the lady was putting him to shame in comforting the lad.
    “Ladies, perhaps you would wait outside while the servants tend to our new friend?”
    “Yes, of course.” Mrs. Parton, who had been uncharacteristically quiet for the past few minutes, beckoned to her companion. “Come along, Bea.”
    Lady Beatrice gaped briefly at her employer, then complied with her order. “Yes, of course.”
    “Don’t leave me, miss.” Kit reached out as if to grab her arm and almost fell out of the bed for his efforts.
    Greystone caught and righted him. “Easy, lad.”
    “I shall come back when you are presentable, Kit.” She looked at Greystone, and her blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “And when you are presentable as well, sir.”
    “What?” Greystone quizzed her with a look, then glanced in the mirror over the nearby bureau. Like Kit, he bore streaks of soot all over his face, hardly the visage a peer wished to display in front of ladies. Yet he could not object when it brought such amusement and, dare he say, a feeling of amity with the most charming, selfless young miss he had ever met.
    * * *
    “Come along, Bea.” Mrs. Parton clasped Beatrice’s hand and led her from the chamber. “We will have that cup of tea with Lady Greystone while we wait.”
    Beatrice did not resist her leading, but she did balk at the byname her employer used. “Mrs. Parton—”
    Before she could voice her complaint, a plump young housemaid in mobcap and apron came charging up the corridor dragging a tiny boy who was as dirty as little Kit. The girl stopped in front of them and curtseyed.
    “Begging your pardon, mum, but her ladyship sent me up with this one to