he wanted to know my bank account, which I didn’t have, I just told him I’d always worked for cash in hand and most of that went in day-to-day living.” She shrugged. “It was the truth. There was no other way to avoid the paperwork I had no answers for.”
“He didn’t press you about your lack of official status?”
“Why should he? The accountant made me official enough to cover Vivian’s requirements. The question of a passport never came up.”
“I see,” Beau murmured, then looked at her quizzically. “When did you tell him what you’ve just told me?”
She paused for thought. “He was talking about family lines. He wanted to know my...my background. It would have been about two months before he died.”
Beau heaved a sigh that seemed to hold both relief and satisfaction. “Thank you for confiding in me. It answers a lot.”
Maggie didn’t want to ask what it answered. If he was now seeing her in a different light, it didn’t show. It didn’t seem to be affecting him one way or another.
“Will you come with me to Europe, Maggie?’ he asked.
“I told you...”
“I’ll get you a passport. I’ll get you all the official identification you’ll need for anything, whether you come with me or not.”
“But how?”
“Believe me, I have the power and the resources to do it.”
She stared at the resolution stamped on his face and felt something hard and cold inside her start to warm and melt. “You’d do that for me?” Her voice was a bare whisper.
“Yes. I’ll put it in motion at once.”
Decisive, confident, fearless. Maggie was sharply reminded of her first impression of him...the aggressive vitality of the man, the flow of positive energy, the innate power that seemed to proclaim he could overcome anything or anyone, a hunter who always succeeded in attaining his goal, no matter what road he had to take or what hardship he had to endure.
A mate worth having...fighting for her...
She felt the stirring of desire again, the pins and needles of promising possibilities. Hope danced in and out of her brain, taunting her caution, fraying her doubts. He was waiting on her answer to the suggestion he’d made. Not forcing. Waiting for her to choose, of her own free will. Her heart insistently pumped one message...give it a chance.
“Then I will,” she said huskily. “I will come with you to Europe.” She managed a wobbly smile. “As a nanny.”
“THIS is so exciting!” Mrs. Featherfield bubbled, her eyes darting around the Rose Suite to check for any item that might have been overlooked. “Are you sure you have everything packed?”
“The list has all been ticked off,” Maggie assured her, almost light-headed with the enormity of the step she was about to take. “And I put it in the lid of the suitcase as you told me so I won’t leave anything behind.”
The housekeeper’s smile beamed with pleasure and self-satisfaction. “I taught Master Beau that a long time ago.” Tears suddenly welled into her eyes. “I remember when Mr. Vivian took him off to Europe. I’m sure Mr. Vivian would be delighted this has come about with you, my dear.”
Maggie gave her a quick hug, barely containing her own flood of emotion. “It was good of Beau to think of it,” she said huskily.
“He has a generous heart. Just like his grandfather. You’ll be safe with him, dear.”
Maggie was beginning to believe it. He’d been so different to her these past four weeks, treating her as an equal, caring, considerate, including her in planning the itinerary so she could read about the places and have the pleasure of anticipation, answering all her questions with good-natured patience and obvious enjoyment.
Best of all, he’d done what he said he’d do. Amazingly, she now had a birth certificate, credit cards and a passport, which made her feel like a real person. Even though there were no names of a mother and father on her birth certificate, it hadn’t been a deep disappointment. Somehow she’d accepted having no parents a long time ago. It was better not to have them, knowing they’d cared so little for her they’d abandoned her to the unknown...a foundling.
Besides, it was more than heart-warming to know that Beau cared about her feelings. As well as everything else, he’d insisted on arranging driving lessons, which she’d duly taken—with Wallace aiding and abetting—so she also had a provisional driver’s licence. She was suddenly, wonderfully, overwhelmed with identification papers, all of which were now securely tucked away in her newly bought traveller’s handbag.
Mrs. Featherfield pulled back and dabbed at her eyes. “Well, we mustn’t keep them waiting. I’ll carry your coat. You look so smart in those clothes, it would be a pity to clutter you up before Master Beau sees you.”
Maggie’s heart instantly kicked into overdrive. She had tried not to think of how alone together she was going to be with Beau on this trip. He had booked separate rooms, as promised, and he hadn’t once presumed on the attraction between them. Both of them did their best to ignore it, yet it was there, stronger than ever for Maggie since Beau’s attitude no longer carried any discernible trace of hostility. Sooner or later the temptation to give in to expressing it was bound to arise.
Would it be right or wrong?
She’d know when it came, she nervously assured herself.
Beau and Sedgewick were in the stairhall. Both of them turned to watch her come down as she and Mrs. Featherfield reached the balcony landing. Benevolent approval was written all over the butler’s face. Beau looked relaxed and happy. Nevertheless, Maggie felt there was more than a simmer of pleasure in his eyes as they skimmed her appearance.
She’d donned comfortable clothes, as advised, teaming black trousers and skivvy with a leopard-print velvet vest, a gold-buckled belt and her gold anchor-chain. The outfit wasn’t spectacular, just well put together, as Vivian had taught her. It was Beau’s gaze on her that made her feel it was sensational and sexy.
Or maybe it was because he looked that way to her, dressed in sage green trousers, a fawn ribbed skivvy, and a dark brown leather jacket, casually hooked over one shoulder. He had such a magnificent physique, it was difficult not to let her gaze linger on his powerfully muscled body.
“I take it all the luggage is already in the car,” she said brightly, trying to settle the flutters in her stomach with a concentration on practicalities.
“Wallace has it stowed and is standing by,” Beau answered, grinning at the efficiency with which everyone was seeing them off. It was impossible to be unaware of the staff conspiracy to encourage every move towards a harmonious and happy togetherness.
“Perhaps you will send us the occasional postcard, Nanny Stowe,” Sedgewick said, his eyebrows raised in pointed appeal.
Wanting to be kept posted on any promising developments, Maggie interpreted. “Of course I will, Sedgewick,” she assured him, hoping her smile didn’t look as stiff as it felt.
Both he and Mrs. Featherfield escorted them out to the car. Mr. Polly was standing beside Wallace, waiting for them, intent on adding his good wishes to everyone else’s.
“Mr. Vivian always reckoned the gardens at Versailles were something special. Should have a look at them when you get to Paris,” he advised.
“We will,” Beau promised.
“You have a good time now, Nanny Stowe. Mr. Vivian would be real pleased about Master Beau taking you off around the world.”
“Thank you, Mr. Polly. I can’t imagine I’ll see any roses better than yours...”