Page 40 of His Bluestocking Bride

Ellen asked Sarah to be sure to inform the master of the house of where she had gone, in case he forgot about it in his business of the day.

Keeping to herself during the day did not usually prove difficult for Ellen. She had several things to occupy her, such as meeting with the cook and the housekeeper to go over meal preparations and house business, respectively. She would hold discussions with Sarah about her wardrobe, what should be mended and what put away. Then she would walk through the gardens in their winter slumber, enjoying the cool air and exercise.

If only people would call on her, so she might return the courtesy. But, as she told Marcus, she hardly expected anyone to go out into the weather. Despite the mild snowfall, it remained cold.

Visiting today, by specific invitation, lifted her spirits. Though they would be in London in another week, the time between now and then stretched into an eternity.

It did not help matters that Marcus made her aware of his determination to see her accepted and popular in society. If anything, the very idea made her nervous.

“I suppose I ought to be grateful he wishes to help,” she murmured to herself in the carriage, watching out the window for the Banners’ driveway. “But all I can think is that he must be disappointed he did not know then what he does now about my personality.”

They turned off the country lane and she heard the crunch of gravel. When the carriage stopped, the footman helped her down and she made her own way up the steps. The door was thrown open by her hostess.

“Oh, Mrs. Calvert, good afternoon. I hope the drive over was pleasant?”

“Very, thank you.” Ellen handed her things to a maid, with the exception of the small basket she brought with her, filled with embroidery materials in case busyness would be the order of the day.

“Would you come up to the nursery with me, Mrs. Calvert?” The woman of the house asked immediately, without even stepping into the parlor. “I usually take tea with the children before I enjoy my own. If you’ve missed the company of your nieces and nephews, I thought you might not object.”

Ellen’s heart warmed even more toward this kind woman. “Please. I’d like to meet them.”

They went up the flight of stairs in the hall, but rather than climb to the level of an attic, Mrs. Banner took Ellen a few doors down the hallway. “I know it isn’t generally done, but our children live on the same level as we do. It saves their small legs the stairs and I like having them near.” She opened the nursery door and Ellen stepped into a room full of light and laughter.

“Mama has come for tea,” Mrs. Banner announced from the doorway, then immediately knelt as a small figure hurtled towards her.

The boy looked a great deal like his mother, with dark hair and eyes. He wrapped his arms about her neck in an embrace. Then a smaller child in a long white dress, no leading strings, toddled over from the arms of the smiling nurse. The little girl’s hair was fairer and her eyes a grayish blue. She babbled happily at her mother in the language of babies.

Arthur was talking, and while some adults might not understand, Ellen could tell his mother took in every word. Then the boy caught sight of the guest and fell silent, taking a step back from his mother to get a better look at the intruder.

“Arthur, this is Mrs. Calvert. She is Mama’s friend and has come to take tea with us. Can you say hello?”

“Hello,” the boy repeated obediently, still staring upward.

Ellen remembered her manners and knelt down as low as she could, offering a kind smile. “Hello, Arthur. Your mother tells me you like to slay dragons.”

It was exactly the right thing to say; Arthur’s face brightened and he began talking excitedly. “I’m a knight!” He turned and ran away from her to snatch up a picture book and bring it back, showing it to her with a pleased face.

Ellen took the book with reverence and read the cover. “Saint George and the Dragon. A very good book, indeed."

“But I wouldn’t kill the dragon,” the boy told her with great solemnity. “I would keep it.”

Mrs. Banner laughed, hugging her daughter to her. “And a fearsome pet it would be, but I am not certain it could remain in the house, and I doubt the barn would do for such a beast either.”

Arthur did not seem impressed by this but took the book back and handed it to his nurse. “Nurse knows where t’keep dragons.”

The woman, in her late thirties, nodded sagely. “I have told him that a dragon would do very well living in the garden, frightening off the rabbits that eat Cook’s vegetables.”

“Nurse Hardy is very wise.” Mrs. Banner kissed her daughter’s head and gestured for Ellen to sit at the table near one of the large windows. Two windows filled most of the outside wall, with curtains pulled away, allowing the winter sunlight to flood the room. Warm carpets covered the floor and a fire burned cheerily behind a grate. The walls were decorated with water colors of animals, both domestic and wild. A basket sat in one corner, filled with wooden toys, and a small bookshelf was the repository of a handful of books.

“This room is absolutely perfect,” Ellen said in a breathless sigh. An open doorway led to another room where she could see a crib and a small bed.

“Thank you.” Mrs. Banner settled her daughter on her lap and waited patiently for her son to take his seat. Then Nurse Hardy brought over a tray that had been waiting on a taller shelf, covered to keep in some of the warmth.

"Would you like me to pour out, Mrs. Banner?” the nurse asked.

“Please, Nurse Hardy. Thank you.”

Arthur received steamed milk in his cup and two biscuits on his plate. Little Esther took a biscuit from her mother and proceeded to break it into pieces before shoving bits in her mouth. Though crumbs rained into Mrs. Banner’s lap, she didn’t seem to notice or care. She was at complete ease in the nursery.