Free Anne O'Brien by The Enigmatic Rake Page A

to a life of action and involvement. His behaviour was unpardonable. His manners must disgust. He took a steady breath and tightened his control.
    ‘Forgive me, Mrs Russell. I was not considerate.’
    ‘No. But as my employer you do not have to be so.’
    She placed the book back on to the desk and went out, leaving him more than a little astounded at the parting shot. So meek and mild as his housekeeper appeared. Nothing like. The lady had teeth! And a confidence above the norm for a housekeeper of such tender years.
    Sarah closed her eyes as the door shut behind her and wondered what she could possibly have been about, what fierce dragon she had unleashed from its cave. Seeing the frustration and impatience, she had appreciated its source and her heart had been touched in that moment of physical weakness. But to tell her employer that he was stupid and illogical—if not in so many words—what had she done?
    Yet there were no repercussions other than the child spending time in her father’s company, in an undertaking that the little girl could not resist. All those books with their coloured plates and leather bindings with gilt and red tooling. Altogether a neat little plot that Sarah prayed would be beneficial for both.
    As it proved to be.
    Lord Joshua found his daughter to be not tentative or shy, but painfully reserved with an equally painful desire for approval. She came into the library next day, wished him goodmorning, chose a book and sat in silence, curled up in a window seat, turning the pages with uncanny deliberation. He looked over at her. What did one say to an eight-year-old child whom one did not know? She seemed content with her own company and yet here was a chance he should not overlook since Mrs Russell had effectively thrown them together. He must make a beginning.
    ‘Celestine…’
    ‘Yes, Papa.’
    ‘Mrs Russell says that in the schoolroom you are called Beth.’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Do you prefer it?’
    ‘Yes, Papa.’
    ‘Shall I call you Beth?’
    ‘If you wish it, Papa.’ Not exactly enthusiastic, but it was not an outright no.
    ‘Then I will. It is a pretty name.’ He smiled at her across the width of the library. And, after a heartbeat, she smiled back.
    Which was enough for one day, his lordship decided. Mrs Russell and her stories could wait. They both returned to their silent perusal of the printed word, at least one of them aware that an important bridge had been crossed. Lord Joshua found a smile touch his lips as he watched his daughter and considered the possible tactics of Mrs Sarah Russell.
    Lord Joshua met the other child in his establishment in the stables. John withdrew into one of the empty stalls as his lordship came in to inspect the horseflesh. Lord Joshua noted the quick movement and spoke to the silent shadow.
    ‘Do you like horses?’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘Come here.’
    John edged forward. ‘My mama says I must not be a nuisance or speak to you unless you speak to me first, sir.’
    He laughed ‘Does she now? Then come and tell me—where were you born?’
    ‘In London, sir.’
    ‘Have you always lived here?’
    ‘I have been to New York in America. I have—’ John would have said more, but then stopped and frowned. ‘My mama says that I must not say.’
    The child ran off before tempted into further indiscretions.
    Which admission Lord Joshua thought was probably a tall story, embroidered by a child’s desire for adventure—yet there was something about him and his mother that was beginning to take his interest. He sensed secrets here. And the lad’s mother had clearly laid down instructions. What was Mrs Russell? Gently born, of course, presumably fallen on bad times. He wondered idly about the boy’s father. Perhaps he should ask Judith when they next met since she had employed the lady.
    But of course it was not of very great importance. His mind turned to other matters.
    Meanwhile, imperceptibly the Countess of Wexford began to make her presence felt