Free Regina Scott by The Courting Campaign Page B

Yet here he sat, attempting to make conversation with a four-year-old and a porcelain-headed doll, just so he could partake of Mrs. Jennings’s masterpieces.
    Yet something suggested it wasn’t only the biscuits that kept him in his seat at the little table in the nursery. Each time he spoke with Alice, Miss Pyrmont’s face took on the strangest look, as if her skin and eyes had developed translucent properties. It was enough to make the humblest of men feel decidedly worthy.
    “And what are your plans for the day?” he asked Alice. It was a gambit that had never failed to win him at least a quarter hour of discussion with Ann.
    Alice frowned as if giving the matter considerable thought. He had met few children her age, but it seemed to him that she was more serious than most. Certainly he and Ann had been serious children, preferring books to battles with tin soldiers, drama to comedy at the theatre, a minuet to the more sprightly country dances.
    “I believe we are going to study our letters,” Alice said, “then take a turn out of doors.” Her rendition was such a perfect imitation of Charlotte’s superior tone that he had to smile.
    “Perhaps your father would like to join us on the lawn,” Miss Pyrmont put in.
    He started to demur—after all, he had work waiting, but then she added, “We intend to conduct an experiment, you see.”
    Nick swallowed the last of the biscuits. “An experiment, you say?”
    Her eyes sparkled. He’d considered them a muddy color, perhaps brown or dark gray, but now with her sitting so near him at the table, he could see they were a clear color somewhere between blue and green. Interesting. Perhaps the shade changed with the color of her clothing. If Charlotte followed through on arranging for newer gowns, he could test that hypothesis.
    “What’s a spare mint?” Alice asked.
    “Perhaps your father should answer that,” Miss Pyrmont replied. “He’s conducting one in his laboratory beside the Grange.”
    Alice regarded him with wide eyes, as if he’d done something quite heroic. Nick wiped his hands on the napkin beside his plate. “An experiment,” he explained, being careful to enunciate the word properly for her, “is a way to address a question when no one knows the answer.”
    “Like what?” Alice asked.
    “Like which kind of biscuit you prefer,” Nick temporized, “or what color gown would look best on Miss Pyrmont.”
    Miss Pyrmont blushed, a shade the color of the roses Ann had liked to tend in their small garden in London. Perhaps that was the color he should suggest to Charlotte. It would certainly look better on her than that dreary brown.
    Alice giggled. “That’s easy. Cinnamon biscuits and purple.”
    “Purple?” Miss Pyrmont was clearly trying not to laugh. “Why purple?”
    “Lady Chamomile likes purple,” Alice said.
    “And I’m certain a lady of her station would look charming in it,” Nick said. “I’ll tell you what, Alice. Let us conduct an experiment right now. Can you find me something blue, say the shade of the sky on a clear summer’s day?”
    Alice slid down from her seat and hurried to a chest that lay against the far wall.
    “What are you doing?” Miss Pyrmont asked, though the smile on her face said she wasn’t opposed to the game.
    “Humor me,” he said.
    Alice came scurrying back with a china plate the size of a guinea. Part of Lady Chamomile’s tea set, perhaps? “Very good,” Nick said, as he accepted it from her. “Now perhaps something yellow, the color of the daffodils that used to bloom in your window box in London.”
    Alice frowned, then hurried off toward her bedchamber.
    “And do you dash off looking for things in your experiment, Sir Nicholas?” Miss Pyrmont asked.
    “I only wish it were that easy,” he replied. “Ah, excellent, Alice. That slipper will do nicely. Now something pink, the very color of Miss Pyrmont’s cheeks.”
    As Alice regarded her steadily, Miss Pyrmont’s color