Page 70 of The Governess and the Rogue

“We have eight house dogs,” Agatha informed her. “But there are more on the estate.”

“Our steward has two sheepdogs,” Charlotte volunteered. “And the stablemaster has a great big mastiff.”

Agatha directed Bea to a diminutive chair. “You may sit down.”

Bea obliged her, though she didn’t entirely trust that the chair would hold her weight. Gertrude continued to dance around her hem, while Frances panted and Wilhelmina eyed the ring cake.

“I shall pour,” Agatha said imperiously. She addressed Charlotte: “You may serve the sandwiches.”

* * *

“Where is this mysterious fiancée of yours?” Kate demanded the moment she stepped down from her carriage. “I’m dying to meet her.” She embraced Jack with characteristic exuberance, only mildly inhibited by the growing protrusion of her belly. She and her husband, Charles, were expecting their fourth child in the summer.

Jack hugged her in return. It had been three years since he’d seen his little sister. Neither time nor motherhood had altered her. With her glossy mink tresses and stubbornly cleft little chin, she was still the same firebrand who had, in childhood, been his frequent collaborator in various foolhardy endeavors.

“Miss Layton is here somewhere,” he said.

Jack had left her midmorning to go off with James. An unavoidable inconvenience. It was James who had been managing Marston Priory in Jack’s absence. The two of them had much to discuss. They’d be talking still if James hadn’t seen the Heywoods’ carriage approaching through his study window.

“She went upstairs to change,” Hannah said. “She’ll be down directly.” Standing on the gravel drive, along with her husband, she was attempting to corral the children—both the Heywood’s and her own.

Nicholas and Arthur had run out to meet their cousins the moment they’d arrived, hailing the Heywood brood with whoops and shrieks. The three Heywood children—Edward, Felicity, and Delphia—were slightly better behaved. But only slightly. They were all chattering at once, vying for Jack’s attention and each other’s.

“Are Agatha and Charlotte not at home?” Felicity asked Nicholas.

“They’re in the nursery,” Nicholas said.

“Having one of their silly tea parties,” Arthur added. “Edward! Come and see the bow and arrow that Uncle Jack brought me.”

“What about our gifts, Uncle Jack?” Delphia asked. “You did bring us something, didn’t you?”

“Your gifts are forthcoming,” Jack told the little Heywoods. “I have them in one of my trunks.”

A cheer went up.

“Come into the house, children,” Hannah said, urging them forward. “Mrs. Kirby has a surprise for you in the kitchens.”

Old Mrs. Kirby, who had been the housekeeper at Beasley Park since Jack was a lad, awaited the children at the top of the steps. “This way, my dears,” she encouraged them. “Cook has made something special for you.”

Amid all the chaos, Jack turned to greet Charles Heywood. The tall, raven-haired former naval captain was as solemn as his wife and children were spirited. At first glance, one wouldn’t think that he and Kate had anything in common, yet the two of them had fallen deeply in love when they’d met. And they were still in love, as far as Jack was aware.

“You’d think they hadn’t seen each other in years,” Charles said, flashing a bemused smile at the departing children.

James chuckled. “As opposed to at least once every fortnight.”

“The benefits of living so close to one another,” Kate said. She linked her arm through Jack’s as they all made their way to the house. “Benefits that Jack and Miss Layton can now share. When they have children⁠—”

“Kate,” Jack objected. “I’m not even married yet. Perhaps you might refrain from organizing the social calendars of my nonexistent children?”

“Nonexistent now,” Kate conceded. “But not for long. Not if your marriage is indeed a love match like Hannah and Meg suspect.”

Jack’s jaw tightened imperceptibly. He loved his sisters-in-law, but how in blazes would either of them know how he felt about Bea? Meg hadn’t even met her yet. And Hannah had only made her acquaintance last night.

It was all just supposition on their parts, based on the suddenness of his engagement. In incidences of haste, or inequalities in social standing, love was generally the operating force.

Either that or scandal.

“Besides,” Kate went on. “You must indulge me in my condition.” She called to her husband: “Isn’t that right, my love?”