Page 5 of A Bachelor’s Lessons in Love

As the footmen took the ladies’ cloaks and gloves, he handed the doll to one of them with a wince and the hope that neither woman saw the toy disappear between the folds of their cloaks.

“I should like to introduce my staff to you both,” he said, eyes going first to his charge. She mattered a great deal more in the moment than her aunt did. “Miss Daphne Price, our butler, Mr. Jones, and our housekeeper, Mrs. Lane.” He calmly went down the list, introducing the ten members of the household staff as they bobbed bows or curtsies. “I will introduce you to the outdoor staff at another time.”

The aunt stood still during the entirety of the introductions, her body stiff beside her niece, her expression marble. Finally, Edward gestured to her with a slight lift of his hand. “And you are most welcome as my guest, Miss Price. I hope you will be comfortable during your time here.”

Her chin came up at the same moment her lashes lowered, as though she was unimpressed by him. Or perhaps, offended? “I am certain we will be well enough, Colonel Halstead.”

What on earth had he done to so swiftly earn her disapproval? He’d worn one of his finest suits of clothing, attended to his grooming with extra care, yet she looked at him as though he’d appeared in muddied boots and fraying trousers—or bore himself like a cutpurse rather than a gentleman.

Squaring his shoulders, Edward stepped back. “Mrs. Lane will show you both to your rooms. There is time to rest before the dinner hour, at which point I hope to have the pleasure of getting to know you both better.”

He’d originally thought the formal meal would prove a treat to a young girl unused to eating with adults at a large dining table. Now, he realized, it would simply prove a matter of course to his charge.

“Thank you, Colonel Halstead,” the aunt said, voice unbetraying of any emotion other than frosty politeness. “We will see you at the evening meal.”

Mrs. Lane curtsied to him, then gestured to the corridor that would lead to the staircase. “If the misses would follow me, please. We will see you comfortable in your chambers in a trice.”

The women followed, and as he watched them disappear around the corner, his valet Randall sidled up to him. “Not a little girl then, sir?”

“Apparently not.”

“How old is she, sir?”

“I haven’t the foggiest idea. Nearly full grown, I think.”

The valet nodded sagely. “That’s both good and bad, I s’pose.”

Edward looked down at his most loyal servant and former batman. “Both?”

“Aye, sir.” Randall winced slightly. “She’ll be fully grown and gone sooner, which means less worries for the raising of her. But…you see you’ll have to actually find her a husband? Not an easy task, I wager. It’ll mean going out. Into Society. London.”

A low, uncomfortable throb pulsed through Edward’s head. Into Society. London. To find Daphne Price a husband.

“Blast it,” he muttered. The valet was right—and there was nothing Edward abhorred more than making a spectacle of himself for the upper-crust of London. He turned on his heel and stalked out the front door, snatching his coat from the lad who held it and throwing it on in a whirl of heavy wool.

He needed a good, brisk walk in cold air to clear his head and form a new plan of action.

His charge wasn’t a child, but a woman of age to enter the marriage mart soon, if not immediately.

“Blast, blast, blast.”

He had even less idea of how to manage a woman-grown than an innocent girl, and that was before one considered the aunt. The woman looked as though she’d happily pitch him out a window the first time he proved an inadequate guardian.

Which he surely would within hours.

Not only did Edward have to determine how to be a protector to a young lady, he also had to win over the only person who might prove helpful to that cause. A woman who did not appear as though she wished to be won over.

He went to the rose garden, sat on a cold stone bench, and gave himself over to thought.

* * *

Mrs. Lane informed them of what each room was as they passed, making certain to give directions to the dining room as well. The corridors were rather austere, as were the rooms Felicity was able to peep into. The house was large and stately enough, but it felt rather…empty. Most of the walls were bare. The carpets they walked across were tidy, but plain.

It was clearly the home of a bachelor, functional rather than welcoming, clean and well-kept but lacking the soft touches of a woman. Trimmings were few, if not altogether nonexistent. The housekeeper was kind and thorough, her tone appropriately warm yet respectful for a servant addressing two gentlewomen.

Then Mrs. Lane brought them to the wing of bedrooms. She gestured to two doors on one side of the corridor. “These are for your use, Miss Price and Miss Daphne. The chambers have a door adjoining them, as we thought…er. We supposed you would want a close connection.” The housekeeper appeared momentarily uncertain, but opened the nearer door. “This will be Miss Daphne’s room.”

They walked through to a room with curtains open, a fire burning in the hearth, and a variety of trappings that made Felicity stiffen at once. The room did not appear at all ready for a young woman about to enter Society, but looked intended for a child of half Daphne’s age.