Page 30 of A Winter Scandal

“Very well. I came to ask for your help.”

Thea’s brows shot up. “My help? In what way.”

“I considered what you said, and I cannot deny that you have a point. I must employ a nursemaid for Matthew and acquire some other female servants as well. But I haven’t the slightest idea where to begin, and the butler is someone I hired in London, so he has little knowledge of the area, either. It occurred to me that someone who had grown up in the village, who knew everyone, and who was, as well, a pillar of rectitude and morality would be the perfect person to help me in such an endeavor.”

“Are you asking me to hire servants for you?”

“Well, I would hire them, obviously. But your advice on who might be a likely candidate would be a great help. And if you were to perhaps join me in interviewing said candidates, I would be most grateful. Also, and perhaps more important, I need to discover whether anyone in the village might have seen or even spoken with whoever left young Matthew in the church. Who could be more valuable in that regard than the vicar’s sister, the woman who clearly hears all the latest gossip?”

“Oh. Well.” Only an hour ago she had been wishing she knew what Lord Morecombe was doing to find Matthew’s mother, and now here he was, offering to include her in it. She could not suppress the grin now. “I suppose we could ask Mrs. Brewster who might be available to act as a nursemaid. My knowledge of the village pales by comparison with Mrs. Brewster’s, I assure you.”

“Excellent.” Gabriel smiled back at her, his eyes warm with approval, and Thea could not help but wonder how many other women had hastened to do as he asked, just to win that smile again.

She did not plan to be one of them, Thea told herself firmly as she turned and whisked Matthew up from the floor. It was her own curiosity and her desire to help the baby that drove her to join Lord Morecombe in his search, not any hope of pleasing Morecombe.

They found Mrs. Brewster in the kitchen, beating egg whites in a bowl. She pursed her mouth thoughtfully as she whipped the whisk through the whites, pausing to inspect the foam, then launching into another attack as she talked. “Well, there’s Maggie Cooper; her youngest is old enough that her oldest girl could take care of him, but she wouldn’t do if you’re wanting to have her stay through the night.”

“I would prefer that,” Lord Morecombe told her.

Mrs. Brewster eyed him for a moment before saying carefully, “Are you talking ’bout taking the little one to your house, then?”

Humor lit Gabriel’s eyes. “I assure you, I intend to make the place fit for female servants. Miss Bainbridge has informed me already that my household is generally regarded as a den of iniquity.”

“And until such time as the Priory is suitable,” Thea added, “the baby and his nursemaid will stay here. She can sleep in the extra bedroom at the end of the hall.”

The housekeeper nodded. “Lolly Havers might do.”

“Ned Havers’s girl?” Thea asked. “Why, she’s not even eighteen yet.”

“Aye. But she’s looked after the younger ones most her life. And I reckon as she’d be glad to have a room of her own and make a mite of money for minding the one baby.”

Thea nodded. “True. And she does seem to have a level head for a girl her age.”

It was soon arranged that Mrs. Brewster would send for the girl while Lord Morecombe and Thea started their search for the missing mother. Leaving Matthew in the housekeeper’s care, Thea and Gabriel set out. The day was crisp, but the sun was shining down weakly, and it was, Thea thought, a beautiful day. She glanced up at the man beside her. She wondered what he was thinking, how his mind worked. He was completely foreign to her, unlike any of the other men she knew. Did he find her hopelessly provincial and naïve? Thea could well imagine the sort of sophisticated, beautiful women he must be acquainted with. They would know how to flirt and bedazzle him—not that she was interested in doing those things, but still, it must be nice to know how. The ladies he was used to would have gone to plays and operas and seen all sorts of places that Thea could only dream about. Glittering with jewels, dressed in the finest silks instead of a serviceable wool walking dress, such women would know all the latest on-dits and be able to discuss the events of the city.

What did she know? How Mrs. Gathers’s daughter-in-law was recovering from her bout with catarrh or how many years it had been since old Mr. Adams had graced the church with his presence because he and Thea’s father had had a falling-out over a certain Sunday sermon? Oh, and books; Thea had consumed a number of them over the years. But somehow she suspected that Lord Morecombe was not a bookish man.

As if feeling her gaze on him, Morecombe turned his head and raised his eyebrows quizzically. “What? You look as if you are contemplating very deep thoughts, indeed.”

Embarrassed at being caught staring, Thea shrugged. “I was wondering what your plans are. How do you intend to set about finding Matthew’s mother?”

“The Blue Boar seems the likeliest place to start.”

“I wouldn’t have thought you would need any introduction to anyone at the tavern,” Thea commented drily.

He chuckled. “You have me there. I do know Malcolm Hornsby well enough to ask him a few questions, and I shall do so. But it is the visitors to the inn that interest me more than the ones in the tavern. And there Mrs. Hornsby reigns supreme. I feel sure that you will be able to get a great deal more out of her than I. She looks at me in a decidedly disapproving way—much the way you do, actually.”

“She has three daughters,” Thea explained, ignoring his comment about her. “And while that makes mothers of eligible girls like the Squire’s daughters view you with great hope, it makes mothers of ineligible ones want to keep you far away—if they value their daughters’ happiness and virtue, that is.”

“You make me sound like a most despicable man. I really am not such a lecher, you know. I don’t make it a habit to go about seducing innocent maidens.”

“Then what do you call kissing me?” Thea shot back.

“I call that an unexpected delight.” A slow smile curved his lips, his eyes lighting with an unmistakable warmth. “One I wouldn’t mind experiencing again. But, trust me, it was not a seduction.”

Whatever thoughts Thea had had in her head immediately fled. Her mouth was suddenly dry and her lips tingled. She was aware that she should give him a sharp setdown, but all she could think of was the heat that blossomed deep in her abdomen at his words. What would a seduction by Gabriel Morecombe be like?

Thea looked away, afraid of what he might read in her face. She cleared her throat. “This is scarcely a suitable topic of conversation.”