them.
“Do the children eat all their meals in here?” she asked.
“That they do,” Mrs. Royce said wearily.
“Have they always? I mean, before…?”
“Before their mother died, do you mean? Of course.” Mrs. Royce shook her head. “That’s the way it’s done, don’t you see?”
“And that was all right with Mr. Ingalls? Even after his wife died?”
“Not my place to ask,” Mrs. Royce told her.
Josh didn’t want to eat with his children? How odd.
“The children went upstairs,” Mrs. Royce said, saving Annie the embarrassment of having to ask where her charges were. She smiled her thanks and took the back stairway to the second floor.
A number of bedrooms opened off the wide, central hallway. The main staircase stood in the middle, and double doors opened at each end of the hall to large balconies on the front and rear of the house. Light spilled into the hallway from a room at the end.
Stepping into the doorway, Annie saw the three Ingalls children dressed in white nightshirts. Ginny and Cassie sat together on one bed, and Drew bounced on his knees on the other.
Three formidable enemies? The thought skittered through Annie’s mind. Or three little means to get the money she needed?
Annie took a breath. No. Neither. They were just children. Children whom she wasn’t going to let get the best of her. Certainly not on her very first day as their nanny.
“Ready for bed, I see,” Annie said briskly, coming inside their room.
The children quieted, sharing glances with each other.
Annie tucked them under their covers. They’d gotten themselves ready for bed, but hadn’t washed. Dirty little feet and hands disappeared under the quilts.
She sighed to herself. Something to work on tomorrow.
“I’ll let your father know you’re in bed,” she said. “He’ll be in shortly.”
“We didn’t do nothing wrong,” Drew declared.
“He’s coming to tell you good-night, of course,” Annie said.
Cassie’s eyes rounded as she sprang up. “Papa’s coming? He is?”
“No, he’s not.” Ginny pushed her sister down on the pillow and threw Annie a contemptuous look. “He’s not coming, Cassie. Go to sleep.”
A little ache throbbed in Annie’s chest as Ginny pulled the covers over her sister. Josh didn’t see his children at bedtime, or at meals?
Suddenly, she wanted to take all three children in her arms, hold them tightly against her. She wanted to march downstairs and demand to know why Josh paid so little attention to his children.
But it wasn’t any of her business. Not really.
Not if she wanted to keep her job.
Ginny gathered Cassie close. Drew stuck out his tongue at Annie and rolled away.
“Well, good night,” Annie murmured.
“Hannah,” Ginny said, pointing to an open doorway at the rear of the room.
“Hannah?” Annie asked.
Ginny huffed irritably. “The baby.”
“Oh. The baby. Yes, of course.” Annie blew out the lanterns and backed away.
The adjoining room was small, just big enough for a crib, bureau, washstand and rocker. There Annie found a young woman probably ten years older than herself, rocking a sleeping baby.
“I reckon you’re the new one, huh?” she asked, her Southern accent evident, though she spoke barely above a whisper. Her dark hair was pinned up and she wore the same gray dress and white apron as the cooks.
“Yes, I’m the new nanny,” Annie said.
The woman hoisted herself out of the chair, cradling the baby against her shoulder. “My name’s Georgia.”
Annie introduced herself. “Are you the one who looks after Hannah?”
“Doing the best I can since the last nanny left,” Georgia said. “That Mrs. Flanders—you met Mrs. Flanders yet?”
“Yes. Briefly.”
Georgia rolled her eyes, and Annie got the distinct feeling the two of them shared the same opinion of the woman who ran the Ingalls house.
“Well, that Mrs. Flanders, she don’t let me tend to little Hannah here, ’less it’s her feeding time. ’Cause, you see, I’m one of the maids and I’m not supposed to do nothing but my own chores.” Georgia tossed her head. “According to Mrs. Flanders, that is.”
“That’s why I heard the baby crying so much?” Annie asked. “Mrs. Flanders wouldn’t let you come in here and take care of her?”
“Yep. Like to broke my heart hearing her cry, I can tell you that. I’ve gotten right attached to this little thing.” Georgia laid the baby in the crib, then lingered for a moment, caressing her wisps of dark hair. “But, seeing as how I need this job, I didn’t have much of a choice other than to do like Mrs. Flanders said for me to do, even if it don’t set well with me.”
Annie nodded. “I can certainly understand that.”
Georgia reared back a bit, raising her brows and looking Annie up and down. “So you’re truly here just to take care of the children?”
“Of course. Why else?”
Georgia shrugged. “Well, it ain’t exactly some kind of a secret, but most of those other women who came here weren’t interested in doing nothing more than sniffing around after Mr. Ingalls.”
“They hoped to marry him?” Annie asked.
“Not that the man couldn’t use the benefit of a little female comfort, if you get my meaning. Especially after that wife of his. Lordy…” Georgia shook her head. “Well, Annie, it’s a pleasure to meet you and a pleasure to have you working here.”
“Thank you,” Annie said, glad to finally hear a kind word from someone in the Ingalls home.
“All I can say to you is good luck. You’re a-gonna be needing it.” Georgia stepped away from the crib. “I’d better get a-going. You’ve a room all to yourself, you know, right through that door. I tidied it up for you and unpacked your things. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thank you, Georgia.”
She gave Hannah a little pat on the back, then leaned closer to Annie. “You let me know if you’re needing any help with the baby here. Like I said, I’ve gotten right attached to her.”
After Georgia left the room, Annie watched the baby, thankful she was sleeping. She considered checking on the three older children, then changed her mind. They were quiet, and that was good enough. Tonight, at least.
She opened the adjoining door and found her bedroom. Annie fell back against the closed door, staring wide-eyed.
Soft light came from the lanterns beside the canopy bed and on the spacious bureau. There were two chests, a wardrobe, a writing desk and a washstand, all in rich mahogany. The coverlet was pale blue with tiny yellow-and-white flowers. Curtains were pristine white, and a floral rug of rich hues covered the floor.
Heavens, such a lovely bedroom. She’d never even had one of her own before—she’d always shared with her sisters. If she, the nanny, had so fine a room, what must the others be like?
A strange heat swelled inside Annie. Josh’s bedroom. What did it look like?
She gasped in the quiet room. Why had she even thought such a thing?
Quickly,