Louise M Gouge by A Suitable Wife Page B

wait to see what those darling boys look like under all that soot.” Mrs. Parton voiced the very idea Beatrice was thinking.
    As if in response to her curiosity, Crawford opened the door. “Lady Beatrice, Mrs. Parton, Lord Greystone requests your presence.”
    As they entered the chamber, the butler’s bushy gray eyebrows arched at the sight of his granddaughter, but he said nothing to her as she followed them in.
    Clustered around the two boys, who were wrapped in linen towels, Lord Greystone and the footmen were still laughing, despite all of them being drenched and dirty.
    “Can you believe it, Mrs. Parton?” The viscount waved them closer. “The lads are blond. Why, I doubt their own master would recognize them now.”
    Indeed Beatrice thought the two mites bore no resemblance to their former selves, though they still had a gray cast to their skin and black lines embedded in various spots.
    Mrs. Parton harrumphed in her good-natured way as she checked their ears and fingernails, taking care special care with Kit’s injured arm. “It will take a number of baths to get rid of the last of the soil, but you have made a good beginning.”
    “As you say, madam.” Lord Greystone bowed with an exaggerated flourish. “But I shall leave the next washing to these good men.” His brow furrowed briefly. “Perhaps you can advise me...never mind. You have brought the solution with you.” He beckoned to Lucy. “Crawford, we have discussed the direction of your granddaughter’s training, and now I know exactly what she will do. The lads will require a nursemaid with youthful energy to keep up with them, and she is just the one to do it.”
    Lucy emitted a tiny squeak that sounded to Beatrice like a protest, but Crawford’s quick glare silenced her instantly.
    “As you wish, sir.” The butler gave her a furtive wave, and she curtseyed even as she bit her lower lip and stared at the floor.
    Beatrice’s heart went out to the girl, despite her failure to know her place. Chasing two small boys all day would leave her little time and energy to learn the duties of a lady’s maid. But Beatrice would not interfere. After all, she could not pay Lucy. Perhaps this was the Lord’s will for the girl, just as He willed for Beatrice to be humbled by the restrictions of her own situation. In this matter both of them must endure their disappointments.
    To her shock, Lord Greystone approached her. “Did you enjoy your visit to St. Ann’s?” Despite his friendly tone, he did not smile.
    Still, her foolish heart skipped at this singular attention. “I did indeed. The girls are very sweet, and they adore Mrs. Parton.” Looking up into his intense blue eyes, she found herself a bit breathless.
    Now he grinned, but his smile was directed at the older lady. “As do I, and all who know her.” True affection beamed from his eyes, and Beatrice could not help but long to receive that sort of approval. Before she could offer her own praise of her employer, he turned to Crawford with orders about the care of the boys.
    Beatrice watched the viscount while admiration for his Christian beneficence replaced her personal longings. She could not imagine Papa in this setting. He had barely noticed his footmen, let alone bantered with them as Lord Greystone now did. Nor had Papa ever extended any kindnesses to the children in the village near Melton Gardens. He had left all charitable work to Mama, and she had relished those activities. Yet in this family it was the viscount who enjoyed helping the helpless. Perhaps she would have to revise her former opinion that all peers thought only of their own interests.
    “Come along, Bea.” Mrs. Parton once again pulled her from the room. “At last we can have our tea with Lady Greystone.”
    Cringing again at the nickname, Beatrice nevertheless followed. But if she had her choice between taking tea with the haughty Lady Greystone and tending orphans with the lady’s suddenly amiable son, she had no