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Alice turned toward them both. “What do you think of my new hair style, sweetie?”
Joseph pursed his lips and shook his head. “It’s ugly.”
Alice laughed, but a part of her hurt at his honest assessment. He was right. As a woman, she looked far worse now than she had only an hour ago. But then she turned once more to Joseph.Hewas more the reason she was doing this than anything.
“Come here, my darling boy.” She pulled him onto her lap. Ponto trotted up and sat beside her feet. “Now what was it you were so wanting to say to me?”
“Has my new papa come yet?”
Alice’s heart ached at his sweet question—the single question he’d asked day in and day out over the past several weeks. Weakened by his persistence, she’d finally relented and, not realizing how much he’d take her statement to heart, Alice had said, “Perhaps Father Christmas will bring you a new papa.”
Never had she regretted words so much. Joseph had instantly taken her word on the subject. In his young, five-year-old mind, it was as good as a solemn promise. He was getting a new papa this winter holiday, and nothing could shake his belief. Blessedly, as tradition had it, Father Christmas sometimes came at the beginning of December, sometimes closer to the end, sometimes not until Epiphany. It wasn’t much wiggle room, but Alice would take all she could get at this point.
“Not yet, Joseph,” she said, stroking his hair.
He gave her a firm nod. “That’s all right. Tomorrow’s December first, so maybe Father Christmas will bring my new papa then.”
Ponto barked his agreement.
“I doubt he’ll come so early this year,” Alice tried to warn her son. “I wouldn’t count on him before Christmas Day at the earliest.” Even that felt frightfully soon. She had a few connections in town—a few men who’d caught her eye before she’d ever been engaged to Lord Hoskins and who, as luck would have it, were still available and residing in Carlaby. She could only hope she hadn’t misjudged their characters six-and-a-half years ago despite having veen a very young debutante. Either way, with her new disguise, Alice was determined to learn of their true naturebeforewedding vows were said.
Joseph, for his part, had stopped listening and instead began counting the freckles across her nose and cheeks, numbering each under his breath as he poked at them. “Six, seven, ten, eweven, twelve, fourteen, five-teen, sixteen...”
Alice chuckled, then kissed him on the forehead. As soon as she found little man a new papa, it appeared he needed a tutor as well. But one thing at a time.
Mrs. Clarke stood upright after having brushed the majority of the loose locks off the floor and into her hand. “Never you fear, Lady Nightingale, I have a few tricks up my sleeves yet. We’ll have you looking ladylike and elegant for the ball tomorrow night.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Clarke.” They’d discussed the best way to introduce herself to Carlaby society at some length. It had been agreed upon that she would show herself as Lady Nightingale first and, while at the ball, lay the groundwork for her “cousin,” Mr. Allen, to make his appearance at a local gentlemen’s club in a few days’ time.
It had sounded all very doable when they’d discussed it before removing themselves to the country. Now that her first appearance was tomorrow—and her hair was short at that—it all felt far less achievable and far more...scary.
Joseph left off counting her freckles and instead traced a crease along Alice’s forehead. She eased the scowl she hadn’t known she’d allowed to show, then took his still somewhat chubby hand and kissed that adorable little finger of his.
“Come now, how about you and I go upstairs and finish rearranging your books and toys in your new nursery?”
“Hurray!” Joseph cried, sliding off her lap and bouncing out of the room. “Come on, Ponto. We’re fixing up our new nursery!” The small brown and white spaniel barked happily and darted after him.
Alice stood and walked toward the door, pausing to look back at Mrs. Clarke. “Thank you again.” She would know Alice meant not only cutting her hair, but also helping her plan this whole insane idea and, of course, for keeping quiet about the whole thing.
“Anything for you, my lady.”
The housekeeper’s sincerity touched Alice. She may no longer have parents or a husband, and she’d never had any siblings or even brothers or sisters-in-law, but she still had a family, small and unusual though it may be. Mr. and Mrs. Clarke were as good to her as any caring aunt and uncle could be, no matter that she employed them as her butler and housekeeper. Even Mary, her abigail, was almost like a friend. And of course there was Joseph—the dearest little boy a mother could ever ask for.
Alice moved out of the room and followed Joseph down the hall and up the stairs. The only family member whose absence they truly felt was that of an attentive husband and father.
And it was up to Alice, this Christmas, to find the right man for the position.
