‘‘Cinnamon,’’ he said.
‘‘I’m still not coming out,’’ Rowan said.
‘‘Would you like a drink of chocolate?’’ Hilda coaxed, taking the warm pitcher from Ford’s hands.
‘‘Chocolate?’’ The boy inched forward. ‘‘Real chocolate?’’
‘‘He cannot have it,’’ his sister said firmly. ‘‘Chocolate gives him hives.’’
Rowan crawled closer and bumped his head on the apron of the table. ‘‘Ah, Violet . . .’’
She reached to grab him by the wrist. ‘‘Got you, you little monster.’’ She dragged him out. ‘‘Now, I cannot blame you for being intimidated, but you must mind your manners. Guests do not hide under tables.’’
‘‘I want to go home.’’
‘‘Guests do not say things like that, either. It’s very rude.’’
Jewel rose and brushed off the mint green skirts that Ford had spent half an hour struggling her into.
He was really much better at removing female clothing than putting it on.
‘‘Here.’’ She handed Rowan a biscuit, and he reluctantly climbed to his feet. ‘‘Eat this, and then I will show you Uncle Ford’s laboratory.’’
‘‘No you won’t,’’ Ford said. Not again. He’d taken her in there yesterday afternoon, hoping she’d sit quietly while he worked. Ten minutes later he’d hauled her out—thankfully before she’d managed to destroy the place.
‘‘Please, Uncle Ford?’’
‘‘No.’’
‘‘Puleeeeeze?’’ The look in Jewel’s green eyes bordered on pathetic. Chase eyes, like his twin sister’s.
Just what he needed . . . another Chase woman who could wrap him around her little finger.
Apparently she realized her feminine wiles were working, because she turned her lavish charm on Rowan. ‘‘You must stay,’’ she told him. ‘‘Uncle Ford has magnets, and bottles of smelly stuff, and a pen-pen—’’
‘‘Pendulum,’’ Ford supplied, remembering too late that she didn’t like to be helped.
But she was so intent on convincing Rowan, she failed to take notice. ‘‘Yes, a pen-du-lum. And lots of clocks and a telescope. That’s a thing to see the stars.’’
‘‘Is it?’’ Lady Violet asked, interest lighting her eyes. ‘‘I’ve never really seen the stars.’’
Scant moments ago, she’d looked like she was ready to haul Rowan home. Not that Ford could blame her, but his own sanity depended on Jewel’s ability to win over the boy. He had to keep the Ashcrofts here.
Whatever it took.
He wouldn’t go crawling back to his brother for help.
‘‘I think Rowan might find my laboratory interesting,’’ he said with an inward grimace. ‘‘And although the telescope cannot help you see stars in the daytime, if you wait until dark—’’
‘‘I cannot stay until dark!’’ Violet looked horrified at the suggestion.
Bloody hell. If she was stuck on propriety, he would invite her maid in to chaperone. No wonder he preferred the loose-moraled women of King Charles’s court. These sheltered country lasses must be damned difficult to seduce.
Good thing he’d sworn off women.
‘‘I wasn’t planning to stay at all,’’ she added. ‘‘I had thought to introduce Rowan and then leave—’’
‘‘Leave me?’’ Rowan interrupted, looking even more horrified than she did. ‘‘I told Mum I didn’t want to come here!’’ He turned to his sister, burying his face in her dark blue skirts. ‘‘Would you really leave me, Violet?’’
She patted him on the head. ‘‘Of course not. You must have misunderstood me.’’ She glared at Ford as if to say,
This is all your fault.
And he knew, then and there, that his happy visions of working while she and her brother entertained his niece were just that—
visions. As ethereal as a dream.
Lady Trentingham’s fairy dust wasn’t working, after all. Violet’s mother wasn’t his savior, and her suggestion that the children play together wasn’t the answer to his prayers. As a man of science, he should have known better than to imagine such flights of fancy, even for a moment.
His plans were spinning out of control. No, make that his life . . . his life was spinning out of control.
And unlike the centrifuge in his laboratory, this wasn’t a spin he seemed equipped to stop.
The next morning, Ford managed to get Jewel up and dressed by nine o’clock, at a cost of only two shillings. He was getting much better at this child care business. A good thing, because his dreams of additional help had been dashed last night.
A letter from his solicitor had arrived, hinting at financial concerns and asking for a meeting in London at Ford’s earliest convenience.
Bloody hell, he thought—it certainly wasn’t convenient now. Maybe after his niece went home. In the meantime, the two of them were getting along famously this morning. Now that he knew what she preferred for breakfast—bread and cheese, with warm chocolate to drink—he no longer had to pay her to eat at all.
Now, if only he could bribe that Rowan boy to play with the girl, life would be rosy. True, after he’d suggested they stay ’til evening, Lady Violet had hurried her brother home so fast she’d tripped over his threshold on her way out. But today was a new day, and he’d awakened with a new determination.
Desperation bred courage and ingenuity.
Getting the children together hadn’t been Violet’s idea, he reasoned, but Lady Trentingham’s. Perhaps the mother would be willing to try again. With that goal in mind, he settled Jewel in front of him on his horse and started riding toward Trentingham Manor.
‘‘What do you call her?’’ she asked.
‘‘Well, my lady, of course. I would have to be much more familiar with her to use her given name.’’
Jewel’s little hands tightened on his where he held her around the waist. ‘‘You are not fa-mil-iar with your horse? That is sad. Mama and Papa are friends with
their
horses.’’
‘‘My horse?’’ He was feeling thickheaded again.
Women seemed to do that to him, to his constant irritation. ‘‘Of course I know my horse. But he’s not a her. He’s a boy.’’
‘‘Oh.’’ His niece was silent a moment as they reached the Thames and turned to ride alongside it.
‘‘What do you call him, then?’’
‘‘Galileo.’’
‘‘Gali-who?’’
‘‘Galileo. Have you never heard of him? He was born in the last century, though he lived into this one.’’
‘‘Was he a horse?’’
‘‘No.’’ Ford choked back a laugh. ‘‘He was an astronomer and a physicist and a mathematician.’’
‘‘That sounds boring.’’
‘‘Oh, but it isn’t.’’ Sunlight glimmered off the water, a beautiful morning to visit. Ford was sure this meeting would end better than yesterday’s. ‘‘Galileo invented a horse-driven water pump, and a military compass, and something called a thermometer that measures hot and cold. And a much better telescope than the one invented before it.’’
‘‘Like the one in your laboratory?’’
‘‘Well, that one is called a reflecting telescope. ’Tis a newer one, invented by another man named Isaac Newton, only about five years ago. But he wouldn’t have invented it if Galileo hadn’t invented
his
telescope first.
That’s the way science works. And with his telescope, Galileo discovered moons around Jupiter—’’
‘‘Auntie Kendra told me about Jupiter. But not moons.’’
‘‘She was talking about the Roman god.’’ Knowing his twin, she’d likely regaled the innocent girl with bloody tales of Jupiter slaying poor souls with thunderbolts. ‘‘I’m talking about the planet.’’
‘‘Like Earth?’’
‘‘But much bigger. I can show you with my telescope. And I can show you Saturn, too, which has rings around it. Galileo was the first to notice those.’’
‘‘That doesn’t sound boring.’’
Behind her, he smiled. ‘‘ ’Tis wonderful, I assure you. Did you know all the planets go around the sun?’’
‘‘Mama told me that.’’
‘‘Well, another man named Nicolas Copernicus thought so first, but Galileo wrote a book to explain it.’’
‘‘Galileo is lucky,’’ she said. ‘‘Your horse, I mean.
To be named after a special man.’’ She leaned forward to stroke the animal’s jet-black mane, which matched her own dark, wavy tresses. ‘‘Rowan is named for a tree.’’
‘‘Did he tell you so?’’
‘‘No. He wouldn’t talk to me.’’ Ford could hear the pout in her voice. ‘‘But when you were out of the room, his sister told me that in her family, the girls are named for flowers and the boy is named for a tree.’’
‘‘That is because their father loves to garden,’’ he told her as Trentingham Manor came into view. A wide lawn studded with shade trees sat between the river and the sprawling, red-brick mansion, its uneven skyline and irregular patterned brickwork the result of a century of alterations. In the extensive gardens set around it, Ford spotted a well-dressed man fiddling with a rose bush. ‘‘In fact,’’ he said, ‘‘I’d wager that’s Lord Trentingham there now.’’
Ford hadn’t seen the Earl of Trentingham in quite a few years, but as they rode nearer across the lawn, he could see where Rowan had inherited his looks.
The earl’s black hair glistened in the warm summer sun. He looked up, raising a hand to swipe his sweat-slicked brow.
‘‘Who goes there?’’ he asked when Ford reined in beside him.
‘‘Viscount Lakefield, my lord. Ford, to you.’’ Ford slid off Galileo, taking Jewel with him. ‘‘And my niece, Lady Jewel Chase.’’ The moment he set her on her feet, she raced to a nearby fountain, thrusting her hands into the spurting water.
The earl narrowed his emerald green eyes. ‘‘Eh?’’
‘‘A long time since we’ve met, my lord.’’ Smiling, Ford held out a hand.
Though the man shook it warmly, he still looked perplexed. ‘‘What? What did you say?’’
Too late Ford remembered Violet had mentioned her father was hard of hearing. ‘‘Ford Chase!’’ he fairly yelled. ‘‘I’m glad to see you!’’
Jewel splashed herself in the face as her eyes popped open wide. Then she giggled, and her lips parted in a grin. ‘‘Jewel Chase!’’ she shouted, clearly thinking it was a game.
The earl bowed. ‘‘I’m glad of your acquaintance, young lady!’’ he hollered back.
‘‘Joseph!’’ Lady Trentingham rounded the corner of the mansion. ‘‘How many times must I remind you the rest of us can hear just fine?’’ Laughing softly, she came close and kissed him on the cheek. ‘‘You forgot your hat,’’ she added, plopping a wide-brimmed specimen on his head.
‘‘My thanks, love.’’ Apparently grateful for the shade, the earl clipped a blood-red bloom and presented it to his wife with a flourish.
‘‘Just what I needed,’’ she murmured. But the smile she sent her husband was genuine.
‘‘I’m wearing your perfume,’’ Jewel piped up.
The woman turned to her. ‘‘Well, come closer, and let me see if it’s the right scent for such a lovely girl.’’
Jewel ran right over, wiping her wet palms on her dress. ‘‘Do I smell good?’’
Lady Trentingham leaned down and sniffed. ‘‘You smell glorious.’’
A radiant smile transformed Jewel’s face. ‘‘Will Rowan like it, do you think?’’
‘‘She is rather fond of your son,’’ Ford said.
‘‘So my daughter told me.’’ Lady Trentingham’s eyes danced as she looked up at him. ‘‘She also told me the feeling was less than mutual.’’
‘‘I’m afraid she was right,’’ he lamented. ‘‘And I was so hoping the children would get along.’’
‘‘I’d wager you were.’’ She looked contemplative.
‘‘Men, you know, they sometimes take a while to come around.’’ Her husband had resumed puttering around, but her gaze on him was unmistakably affectionate. ‘‘My Rowan takes after his father, I’m afraid, but I’m sure, given time, he’ll come to appreciate this delightful young lady.’’
Ford watched as Jewel went back to the fountain, sighing when she splashed her dress. Another change of clothing in the offing. He could already imagine Hilda complaining about the additional laundry and ironing. And him having nothing to do but listen, because he couldn’t work with a child running loose.
‘‘Lady Trentingham . . .’’ Desperation setting in, he ran a hand back through his hair and then favored her with one of his famous seductive smiles. ‘‘Do you suppose your son might give Jewel another chance?’’
Perching a knee on one of the window seats in the gold-and-cream-toned drawing room, Violet peered out the window at the blur she knew was the viscount and her parents. ‘‘What do you think they’re saying?’’
she asked her sisters.
Rose pressed closer to the panes, fussing with a floral arrangement she’d set in the window niche. ‘‘They seem to be discussing that little girl who is playing in the fountain.’’
‘‘Jewel,’’ Violet said. ‘‘The one I told you about who fancies herself in love with Rowan.’’
Nearby, Lily’s fingers glided over the harpsichord, producing a lyrical tune. ‘‘How sweet.’’
‘‘How absurd,’’ Rose countered. ‘‘She’s too young to be in love.’’ She patted her deep chestnut curls.
‘‘Unlike me. I do declare, that man out there looks mighty fine.’’
‘‘He’s too intellectual for you,’’ Violet snapped, then wondered why she should suddenly be so short-tempered. ‘‘Does Mum look like she’s pleased to see them?’’
Lily didn’t miss a beat as she looked up and out the window. ‘‘Very.’’
Rose leaned her hands on the sill. ‘‘Now Lord Lakefield has lifted the girl, and Mum is running a finger down her cheek.’’ She turned to Violet. ‘‘I think she must like her . . . Do you suppose Mum’s already matchmaking for
Rowan
?’’ Rose seemed genuinely worried that their little brother would beat his older sisters to the altar.
‘‘Well, she’s not going to get me to take Rowan to Lakefield again. He was miserable.’’ The blurred figures were getting bigger. ‘‘Egad. They’re coming inside. All of them. Even Father.’’
The music stopped as Lily stood, looking puzzled.
‘‘Why shouldn’t they come inside?’’
‘‘I . . . no reason.’’ The sudden quiet was unsettling.
Violet drew a deep breath and found herself smoothing her russet skirts, which was not like her. She arranged three long curls to drape over one shoulder, then dropped her hand as Jewel bounded into the room ahead of the adults.
The girl skidded to a stop on the carpeted floor, backing Violet against the wall in her enthusiasm.
‘‘Lady Violet!’’ Throwing her arms wide, she hugged her around the knees. ‘‘Where’s Rowan?’’
‘‘Having his lessons.’’ Looking down into the child’s face, Violet couldn’t help but be charmed. ‘‘Would you care to meet my sisters? Lady Rose and Lady Lily.’’