The Gentleman's Bride Search (The Glass Slipper Chronicles Book 4) Read online

  “Perhaps a little,” he admitted. “But that does not make it any less true. I am trying to make up for all the times I should have praised you in the past. If I thought flattery would persuade you to stay, I would lay it on with a trowel.”

  His eyes danced with mischief that reminded her of Alfie. She wondered if he had been like his son during his younger years. She could not help being amused by the image of him laying on thick gobs of praise the way a stonemason applied mortar.

  “But back to my problem,” Mr. Chase continued. “We are agreed that I can remove Miss Anstruther from my list of potential brides. Miss Leveson too, I believe. Rosie likes her, but I am not sure about the other children. And I fear that giggle of hers would drive me mad inside a year.”

  Evangeline told herself she should be dismayed that Mr. Chase had casually rejected half the ladies she’d hoped he might wed. Instead, she felt elated. It must be relief that he could be trusted not to make an unsuitable match. She should have had more faith in his judgment.

  “Even if the lady were more to my liking...” Jasper Chase grimaced. “Ì fear I could not tolerate having Mrs. Leveson for a mother-in-law.”

  Evangeline clapped a hand over her mouth to contain an unseemly burst of laughter that might rouse the children. They would be waking up on their own soon enough. For now she enjoyed this rare opportunity to talk privately with their father.

  “Who does that leave?” He held up four fingers then lowered two. “Abigail Brookes. I believe she sincerely likes the children.”

  Evangeline could not dispute that.

  “I cannot deny I like her,” Jasper Chase continued. “She was a wild little scapegrace as a child, but she seems to have matured into a very agreeable woman.”

  All that was true, Evangeline acknowledged. Abigail Brookes was not haughty and demanding like Miss Anstruther. Nor did she have Miss Leveson’s flighty facade that masked a more calculating nature. Miss Brookes wanted to be a governess, which suggested an affinity for children. Her actions the past few days bore that out.

  Then why did a sinking feeling come over Evangeline when Jasper Chase professed his fondness for the lady?

  As he sat in the cozy, quiet nursery discussing prospective brides with Miss Fairfax, Jasper could not escape the feeling that he was a fraud.

  In spite of the effort he had made to keep an open mind on the subject, he was still not convinced he wanted to remarry. Were the faults he had found with Miss Anstruther and Miss Leveson only excuses that might have been easily overlooked if he’d sincerely wanted to take a second wife?

  Surely if he had been eager to wed, he would not have been so pleased when Miss Fairfax agreed that neither of the ladies was likely to suit him.

  Now he raised the possibility of Abigail Brookes. He was certain her brother would approve of such a match. In turn, he would be delighted to have Norton for a brother-in-law. But could Abigail care anything for him or only his children? Jasper told himself perhaps the latter might be for the best. Then she might not feel neglected when he was obliged to be away so much on business.

  Did Miss Fairfax guess the thoughts that were going through his mind? Perhaps, for her smile faded and an anxious look crept into her eyes. “Miss Brookes is, as you say, most agreeable. Matthew and Alfie are both quite taken with her. If they were twenty years older, you might have a pair of rivals for her hand.”

  It sounded as if Miss Fairfax might have her heart set on him wedding Abigail Brookes. Jasper was sorry to disappoint her, but something in him resisted her efforts to choose a wife for him. “I like Abigail, as if she were my sister or a friend, but I fear my feelings can never be more than that.”

  He expected Miss Fairfax to betray her frustration with him, but clearly the lady possessed even more self-control than he gave her credit for. The tension in her features eased and she released a soft, slow breath. “Do not be too sure. People’s affections can change, you know.”

  “Perhaps.” Jasper could not conceal his doubts. “That leaves only Miss Webster. She seems pleasant enough, though we have had little opportunity to become acquainted. If I did not know better, I would say she was avoiding me.”

  The governess shook her head. “I am certain she is not.”

  Jasper shrugged. “At least it makes a refreshing change from being openly pursued.”

  “Or secretly stalked,” Miss Fairfax muttered under her breath.

  “Do you suppose it would be fair to Miss Webster if I tried to court her?” he asked. “Any romantic spark I ever possessed was snuffed out long ago by my responsibilities to my family and my business.”

  “Are you quite certain?” Miss Fairfax glanced up at him with a teasing half smile. “Perhaps it has only been hibernating and needs to be woken.”

  Her challenge seemed to stir something in Jasper that had lain fallow for a very long time.

  At that moment, Matthew popped his head out of the boys’ room and Rosie out of the girls’. When she spied her father sitting at the nursery table, Rosie scampered across the room and scrambled onto his lap.

  “Good morning, Papa!” She flung her dimpled arms around his neck and gave an affectionate squeeze. “What are you doing up so early?”

  Jasper returned his little daughter’s embrace with equal warmth. “I wanted a few minutes to talk to Miss Fairfax before she got busy with all of you.”

  Rosie contorted her face into an endearing look of puzzlement. “What did you want to talk to her about—us?”

  Partly to avoid answering his daughter’s question, Jasper opened one arm to Matthew. He was pleased when his son responded to the invitation by dashing over and giving him an eager embrace. He feared the boy might soon consider himself too grown up for such gestures of affection.

  “Will we be able to fly our kites today, Papa?” his son asked.

  Jasper nodded. “I have consulted Miss Fairfax and she agrees that conditions appear ideal for kite flying.”

  “Can we bring a picnic again?” asked Rosie. She seemed to have forgotten her previous question.

  “I believe that could be arranged.” He gave her nose a playful tap with his forefinger. “After breakfast, why don’t you go ask Mrs. Gilman? She cannot seem to deny you anything.”

  Their conversation soon roused the other children. Owen stumbled out, rubbing his eyes while Alfie yawned and stretched. Emma peeped out like a shy woodland creature from her den, but ventured out more boldly when Jasper smiled and beckoned her.

  Miss Fairfax rose from her chair to begin her duties for the day. “Matthew, you should get dressed.”

  She approached Jasper with her arms open. “Come with me, Rosie, to pick out a dress for the day.”

  The child gave Jasper a parting kiss on the cheek then let her governess scoop her up and carry her away.

  As the other children approached to receive some attention, Jasper realized that Miss Fairfax had subtly removed Matthew and Rosie to make room for them. Basking in the warmth of their affection, he reflected on the way his guests seemed to prefer one or the other of his children. Would he be able to find a wife capable of loving them all, different as they were?

  Once Matthew and Rosie finished dressing, Miss Fairfax summoned the other children to get their clothes on. By the time they were all dressed and combed, the nursery maid had arrived with breakfast.

  “Will you say the blessing this morning, Mr. Chase?” asked the governess as they sat down to eat.

  Other nurseries might have a particular little prayer the children would say before meals, perhaps a short rhyme that became rote and slipped off the tongue with little thought. Jasper liked the way Miss Fairfax chose one of his children to ask the blessing in his or her own words. Sometimes he had to bite his lip hard to keep from grinning at the things Alfie and Rosie came out with, but it never failed to remind him to be thankful for the abundant blessings he had received.

  “Very well.” He watched the children fold their hands and close their eyes. “Heavenly Father,
we give thanks for this good breakfast. We thank you for the sunshine outside and the wind to fly our kites. We thank you for new friends, old friends and the love that fills this house. Help us to be mindful of our blessings and to share them with those who have less. Amen.”

  “Amen,” murmured the children. Then they seized their spoons and tucked into their porridge.

  “Not quite so much sugar, Rosie,” Miss Fairfax cautioned Jasper’s little daughter. “You are sweet enough, as it is.”

  Rosie broke into a broad grin and only sprinkled half the heaping spoonful of sugar onto her porridge.

  Matthew began telling his brothers about plans for their excursion to Red Hill, while Rosie asked Emma to take her to the kitchen after breakfast to consult the cook. Miss Fairfax followed their lively conversations, sometimes answering questions or slipping in a remark to praise or gently correct one of the children. As Jasper watched all this, he could not help feeling that she was as much a part of this family as he, if not more.

  Would he ever be able to find a governess, or a wife, capable of filling her place? And why was this school she wanted to start more important to her than the welfare of his children?

  The sun and wind had dried the grass by the time the Amberwood party set off for Red Hill, though the road was still muddy. Mr. Chase, Mr. Webster and Reverend Brookes rode on horseback, as did Miss Anstruther, in a stylish riding habit. The other ladies crowded into two carriages with the children. Evangeline shared one with Miss Brookes, Miss Webster and the three boys, while Mrs. Leveson and her daughter rode with Mrs. Thorpe, Verity Dawson and the girls.

  Though Mr. Chase claimed he had no intention of courting Miss Anstruther, it vexed Evangeline to see how close the lady kept her horse to his, taking every opportunity to engage him in conversation. Miss Brookes and Miss Webster appeared to notice, too, but seemed to find her blatant pursuit of their host more amusing than annoying.

  “I suppose she will need someone to help her down from her saddle when we reach our destination.” Margaret Webster’s bright blue eyes twinkled with merriment.

  “Woe betide my poor brother if he offers to do the honors.” Abigail Brookes gave an infectious chuckle. “He might get the toe of her riding boot in his ribs for his pains.”

  “You mean Miss Anstruther?” asked Owen in a tone of grave bewilderment. “Why would she kick the vicar if he tried to help her? That would be unkind.”

  The two ladies glanced at each other, then toward Evangeline, with apologetic grimaces. Matthew and Alfie were sitting up with the driver, not paying the other passengers a bit of mind. Clearly Miss Brookes and Miss Webster had thought Owen too young to take any notice of their banter.

  Now Miss Webster wrapped her arm around the child’s shoulders. “You are quite right, Owen. It would not be kind and I fear we were not kind to make a silly jest about such a thing. But that is all it was, a bit of thoughtless fun. I am certain you are too much a gentleman to repeat any of it and risk hurting anyone’s feelings.”

  Miss Webster’s actions secured her Evangeline’s good opinion on two counts. First, that she had frankly owned up to her mistake. Second, she’d taken notice of quiet little Owen in a way none of the other ladies had.

  “Do you mean I should keep it a secret?” the boy asked.

  It was clear from his tone that Owen found the prospect distasteful. As he should, in Evangeline’s opinion. Her experiences at the Pendergast School had taught her that when grown-ups encouraged children to keep secrets, it often created a shadowy environment in which corruption thrived.

  “Not... exactly.” Miss Webster seemed to realize she was out of her depth. She cast Evangeline a look that pleaded for help.

  “I believe what Miss Webster means, Owen, is that she is relying on your discretion. Do you remember what that is?”

  The boy nodded. “It means knowing when to speak and when to keep silent. Like it says in the Book of Egg-lease... Eek-leasy...”

  “Ecclesiastes,” Evangeline pronounced the word carefully, certain he would get it right the next time. “And you are correct. ‘To everything there is a season.ʼ”

  Miss Webster smiled her thanks to Evangeline then turned her attention back to Owen. “Something tells me you have an abundance of discretion, which is an essential quality in a gentleman.”

  Owen seemed pleased with the lady’s praise and with being addressed as if he were much older than his years. Evangeline had noticed him giving Miss Leveson and her mother a wide berth after they chucked him under the chin and cooed what a pretty little fellow he was.

  “You are a good judge of character, Miss Webster.” Evangeline seized her chance to speak with the lady. “Owen is one of the most naturally discreet young men I know. You may rely on him never to embarrass anyone with an ill-considered word.”

  She was pleased this incident had given her an opening to become better acquainted with Miss Webster. If Mr. Chase could never feel anything warmer than sisterly regard for Miss Brookes, that left Margaret Webster as the only possible match remaining.

  Just because she did not pursue him as blatantly as Miss Anstruther, did it mean she had no interest in Mr. Chase? Or was that like comparing Alfie and Owen in their reactions to people? Alfie’s feelings were so emphatic and he never made any effort to conceal them, while Owen’s were more difficult to guess from observation. That did not mean he felt them any less deeply—quite the contrary. Perhaps Miss Webster, like Owen, simply did not wear her heart on her sleeve. Evangeline hoped that by getting to know the lady better, she could decide whether Miss Webster might welcome an overture from Owen’s father.

  “You have taught your pupils well, Miss Fairfax,” the lady replied. “They are as delightful a family as I have ever met. You must be as proud of them as their father.”

  “I am very proud,” Evangeline replied, warmly disposed to anyone who praised her young pupils. “I cannot begin to take credit for all their fine qualities. I only hope I have helped them make the most of their natural abilities. If I may say so, you have a natural way with children. Do you come from a large family?”

  “Not anymore.” Miss Webster shook her head with an air of regret. “I had two brothers, but the younger one was sickly and died of consumption. The older one joined the army and was killed in the war.”

  Evangeline was about to apologize for provoking such painful memories, when Owen piped up, “My mama died. Do you remember your brothers? I cannot remember my mama. Emma does and Matthew might, but it was very long ago, when I was only little. I wish I could remember her.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Miss Webster clasped one of Owen’s hands. “I never thought before what a blessing it is that I remember my brothers and my mother.”

  Evangeline tried to think of something to say that might comfort the child, but Miss Webster seemed to have managed quite well by acknowledging his sadness and letting him know that she understood. Perhaps she would be the right mother for the Chase children.

  “My aunt had a large family,” Miss Webster said, returning to Evangeline’s question. “Perhaps that accounts for it. Most of her children were a good deal younger than I. Whenever I visited I enjoyed looking after the little ones. I hope I shall be blessed with a family of my own one day—a big jolly one like Owen’s.”

  Did she, indeed? It sounded as if Miss Webster might not be as indifferent to Mr. Chase as he believed.

  A few minutes later, the Amberwood party arrived at the foot of Red Hill, the tallest prominence in this part of the Vale of Eden between the lake-studded Cumbrian Mountains and the Pennines, which some called “the spine of England.” While the riders dismounted and the rest of the party piled out of the carriages, Evangeline was kept busy watching that none of the children wandered off or strayed too close to the horses. Meanwhile, she parceled out the colorful kites they had built from bits of light strapping and scraps of silk found in an old trunk in the attic. Finally, she arranged for the picnic hampers and rugs to be carried up the hill. />
  As she watched the others pick their way up the winding path, Evangeline started when she heard her employer’s deep voice close behind her. “How would we manage without you, Miss Fairfax? You arrange all our festivities and make certain everything runs smoothly. Is it as little effort as you make it appear?”

  “Indeed it is not!” Her surprise and other unruly feelings found release in a burst of laughter as she spun about to face him. “There always seems to be a dozen things to do at once... besides keeping an eye on the children, which can be a handful on its own.”

  “Are you sorry you put yourself to so much trouble to find me a wife?” When he asked the question, Jasper Chase cocked his head to one side, just like Matthew. His grin sparkled with impudence, yet there was an appealing warmth about it.

  “Of course not.” She tilted her chin and looked him in the eye. “I enjoy a challenge.”

  He nodded as if to say he did too. “You have risen to it admirably. You must be very anxious to get away and start that school of yours.”

  “I am.” Evangeline willed her voice to remain steady and positive, without the slightest quaver of doubt. If Mr. Chase heard it, she feared he might apply pressure to that weak spot to persuade her to stay.

  But when she betrayed nothing he could exploit, Jasper Chase simply shook his head and repeated his earlier words, with one minor but significant change. “How will we manage without you, Miss Fairfax?”

  Chapter Six

  HE MUST FACE the fact that Evangeline Fairfax was going to leave Amberwood in two months’ time and there was nothing he could do to prevent her.

  That afternoon, as flocks of woolly clouds chased one another across the summer sky over Red Hill, the Amberwood party enjoyed another lively outing. Meanwhile, Jasper grappled with the realization that there were some things even his strong will could not change and this was one of them.

  “Why so solemn looking, old friend?” asked Norton Brookes, his voice breathless from running to get kites aloft for Emma, Mrs. Dawson and his sister. “Thanks to you, everyone is having a fine time. It would be unfair for you not to.”