brass spectacles slipping down his nose. When she had been told he was calling, she had never guessed he would make a request that could gratify a craving in her heart. She had been struggling in recent months not to be envious when her younger brothers and sister began creating homes of their own. She had not realized how much she wanted to do the same. Cothaire had been her responsibility for the past five years, but that changed when her brother Arthur, Lord Trelawney, had married.
Even though she would always have a place to live at Cothaire, Caroline had been shunted from her position as the great house’s chatelaine. Not that Arthur’s wife, Maris, was anything but the epitome of kindness. She sought Caroline’s advice regularly. However, the household now looked to Maris for direction, not Caroline. It was as it should be; still, Caroline longed for a house to make into a home.
Now Lord Warrick was here with an offer for her to help him do exactly that with dilapidated Warrick Hall. Assisting him to make the old manor house comfortable for his family would show her father she should be allowed to renovate a house in the village for her, Gil and Joy. At last, she would have the snug cottage she had hoped to share with her late husband John and their children.
That dream had died along with John when his ship sank. Even before then, because she had been told by the local midwife the chances of her becoming pregnant diminished as each month passed and she did not conceive. She had continued to pray for as long as John was alive that she would someday hold their baby in her arms. Others wondered why she had not remarried in the years since his death, but how could she wed when she might never be able to give her husband a child? She had sensed John’s disappointment each month, and she did not want ever to hurt someone she loved like that again. It was better she remained unmarried and found a small home of her own in the village.
She looked at Joy who took a block from Gil, then let it fall to the floor as she giggled. God had heard her prayer and brought children into her life in a way she could not have imagined. And now He was answering another prayer from deep within her heart by giving her the chance to help Lord Warrick with renovating Warrick Hall.
“I would be glad to do what I can,” she said, proud how serene her voice sounded when her thoughts were whirling like a tempest.
Lord Warrick’s hazel eyes widened behind his brass spectacles. “Really?”
She smiled. “Yes, really.”
A flush rose from his collar. “My lady, I didn’t mean to suggest you would speak anything but the truth. I admit I expected you to demur because you would be busy with holiday preparations at Cothaire.”
“Our New Year’s Eve gathering has been held for so many years, everyone knows what to do in preparation.” She did not add that many of the tasks she had done in previous years would now be assumed by the new Lady Trelawney.
Joy cried and raised her hands. Caroline picked up the baby, who was growing rapidly and getting plump. She had guessed the baby was little more than a newborn when Joy was rescued along with five other children at the end of summer. In the past few weeks, Joy had begun to act a couple of months older than anyone had assumed. She pulled herself up on anything and anyone, and she made jabbering sounds, which had earned her the nickname of “little monkey” from Father. Soon she would start saying real words. Caroline wondered what Joy’s first word would be. She secretly hoped it would be “Mama.”
“When does your family arrive?” Caroline asked the baron.
“In about a month. Will that be enough time?”
“It must be, because it is all we have.” She stood as the baby gave a sharp cry. Reaching for the teething stick on the table next to Lord Warrick’s chair, she nearly bumped her nose into his as he came to his feet. He leaned away, and she snatched the teething stick from the table. She handed it to Joy, not looking at the baron. She hoped her face was not as red as his had been a moment ago.
Caroline froze at a distant rumble. The glass in the garden doors rattled sharply.
“What was that?” she asked as Gil jumped to his feet and ran to hide his face in her skirt.
“It sounded like thunder,” Lord Warrick said, lines of bafflement threading across his forehead. “But the sky is clear.”
“Storms can come up quickly at this time of year.” She did not add more as Joy cried out in pain. She put the baby to her shoulder and patted Joy’s back. The little girl flung aside the teething stick and began chewing on a seam along Caroline’s shawl.
“One more thing, my lady,” he said, clearly trying not to look at the widening spot of damp from the baby’s drool on her shawl. “I have no doubts my family will wish to entertain while they are here. Because of that, I must ask another favor. Will you help me learn the niceties and duties of a host so I can avoid any mistakes that might embarrass my family?”
Caroline blinked once, then twice, then a third time. “You want me to teach you the proper graces of Society?”
“Yes, if you are willing.” His unsteady smile warned her how important this request was.
Why? She wanted to ask that question but swallowed it unspoken. Lord Warrick’s explanation did not ring true for her. Other than his late uncle, no member of his family was of the ton, so why would they expect him to know the complex intricacies of the Beau Monde when, as far as she knew, he had never been to London or even attended many gatherings in Cornwall? There must be some other, more important reason he was not sharing with her, but asking that would prove her own manners were beneath reproach.
She could think of many reasons to say no. She needed to discover the truth about the children. She needed to spend time with Joy and Gil and her family, both its longtime members and its newest ones. That was very important, because she had no idea how much longer the children would be in her life.
Withhold not good from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power of thine hand to do it. The verse from Proverbs, one of John’s favorites, burst out of her memory. She had the time and ability to help Lord Warrick with both of his requests, and, to own the truth, she was thrilled to have the chance to see inside ancient Warrick Hall.
Gil took advantage of her silence to go to Lord Warrick and, grinning, hand him a wooden horse.
“Thank you, young man,” the baron said.
“You welcome.” Running to the other toys, Gil began piling blocks one on top of the other.
“You have taught him well,” Lord Warrick said, drawing her gaze to him. “Would it be any different to teach me?”
“Of course, it would be different. He is a child.”
“And I am as a child when it comes to etiquette. You have seen that yourself.” He held up his hand. “You need not be polite and try to deny it, my lady. I saw the truth on your face when I made blunders upon my arrival today.”
“If I made you feel uncomfortable or appeared judgmental, I am sorry.”
He crowed, “There!”
“There what?” she asked, confused.
“What you said.” He set the toy horse on the floor near Gil, and the little boy pretended it was galloping along a road of blocks. “Gracious and kind. I want to learn how to be as eloquent and cordial in social situations. Will you help me?”
“I will try.” She did not hesitate before she went on, “May I ask you for a favor in return?”
“Whatever you wish.” His words were casual, but she sensed an undertone of tension in them. What was he hiding?
“You know we are searching for the children’s families and are desperate to discover why they were left in a wobbly boat.”
“And by whom, so you know who was heartless,” Lord Warrick said, his voice as serious as a magistrate handing down justice. “I will be happy to do whatever I can to help in the search.”
She nodded, glad