Chapter 17
Concerning Cocked Legs, Leg-shackles, Bosoms, and Moon-eyes; And a Book Excursion Featuring Unanticipated Traps and Bonnet Blows …
At two o’clock, Mina, Christopher, and Tom met Lord Kinsale and Brutus in the grand entry hall of Kinsale House. Smedley gave them all a snooty look and Mina sent him a snooty look right back.
She would not be cowed by the man, and she was gratified when the butler was the first to look away. No one intimidated a Parasol governess.
Lord Kinsale did not seem to notice the exchange of disdainful looks as he donned a well-cut frock coat, gloves, and top hat. Brutus did, though, and he gave a throaty chuckle.
Ye want me to cock me leg on Smedley? he asked. Or tear a hole in his trouser leg? I hear he’s in the master’s bad books after this mornin’, so I’d be happy to do it.
Mina’s cheeks warmed at the thought that Lord Kinsale was willing to defend her honor by taking the odious butler to task about the sitting room incident.
Nevertheless, she gave a discreet shake of her head as she assisted Christopher and Tom into their coats.
Bad books or not, it will create too much fuss and bother.
And Lord Kinsale might feel obliged to discipline you.
You probably won’t be allowed to accompany us on this excursion.
And surely you don’t want to be banished to the terrace again.
I suppose not, replied the pug with a grumble.
Mina gave the dog a smile. I appreciate the offer though. And at least you and I can at last see eye to eye on something.
Oh, we are not bosom friends, by any means, retorted Brutus with a huff and a backward kick of one small stocky leg then the other. Ye cannot sweet-talk me like ye can the master.
What? No one is sweet-talking anyone, protested Mina as she fastened her own Parasol Academy coat over her gown.
Brutus gave a yap. A likely story. Me master might be all moon-eyed whenever he looks yer way right now, Miss Davenport.
But that won’t last long. The marquess isn’t lookin’ to get leg-shackled anytime soon, so you can stop battin’ your eyelashes at him.
To be sure, like most men, he likes a pretty face an’ shapely figure.
But don’t ye be thinkin’ that his admiration goes beyond that.
Before Mina could retort that she was a career governess and not the sort to dally with her employer, the impudent pug was racing out the front door while the marquess was inviting her and the boys out to the square, where a footman was letting down the steps to the carriage.
It was certainly a novel experience taking a carriage ride with the marquess.
The cabin’s interior was spacious, with ample room for two adults, two boys, and a pug.
But of course, Lord Kinsale’s large frame seemed to dominate one entire side of the confined space.
Mina, who sat with Tom and Christopher on the opposite leather bench seat, tried very hard not to stare all “moon-eyed” at her employer.
But it was hard not to sneak an admiring glance at him every so often, even when Brutus sent her narrow-eyed looks that clearly told her that he knew what she was doing.
(Even though she wasn’t doing anything. Not really.)
She was not the simpering, flirtatious type, despite what Brutus thought.
Her mind was on the job and nothing else.
She would look after Tom and Christopher and find them educational texts and books that would both entertain and engage them and expand their knowledge.
That’s all she had to do. She was not going to stare at Lord Kinsale all afternoon.
At least the journey to Piccadilly wasn’t too long.
Indeed, within fifteen minutes, they were exiting the carriage, right in front of Hatchards.
Lord Kinsale lifted the boys down onto the street and then, to Mina’s surprise, he handed her out like she was a fine lady.
As his large hand engulfed hers, her skin tingled within her gloves, almost as though she was using magic. Her cheeks might have grown warm too.
Thank goodness Brutus was too busy sniffing around a lamppost and then observing another dog—a pretty golden-brown spaniel—who trotted past with her owner. Mina had had quite enough of the pug’s tetchy remarks, thank you very much.
A tug on Mina’s sleeve drew her attention. It was Christopher. “Miss Davenport. There’s a wizard sweet shop just over there.” The boy gestured across Piccadilly toward Burlington Arcade. “Might we visit there first? It’s been ages since I had any sweets.”
Mina was conscious of the fact that both Lord Kinsale and Tom Fleet were watching the exchange.
“It has,” she agreed. “But let’s visit Hatchards first. We’re right here and sticky fingers are not particularly good for leafing through the pages of new books.
Perhaps we’ll go afterwards if it’s all right with Lord Kinsale. ”
The marquess smiled. “It-it will be per-perfectly fine with me,” he said with a grin. “I like … I like sweet things too.”
Brutus gave a disgusted snuffle. Ugh. The pair o’ ye make me ill even without eatin’ any sweets.
Says the dog who was just making eyes at the pretty spaniel who pranced by not half a minute ago, replied Mina with a small smile. You don’t have a leg to stand on, Brutus.
The pug snorted then cocked his leg on the lamppost he’d been sniffing. I beg to differ, he retorted.
Mina simply rolled her eyes. She knew she should be above such petty squabbles. But really, the pug was most vexing. At this rate, it didn’t seem like she and Lord Kinsale’s pet dog would be calling a truce anytime soon.
Once their small party was all inside Hatchards—except for Brutus, who stayed outside with the marquess’s footmen—Mina led the boys toward the Children’s Literature section.
“Now, I want you to have a look through the books shelved on these two bookcases and point out anything that catches your eye,” she said.
“Picture books are just as valuable as books with text alone. The main thing is, I want you to enjoy reading whatever you choose. Learning doesn’t have to be a chore. ”
Now it was Tom who was looking disgruntled. “I ain’t ’ad any use for books in all me eight years. Don’t see why I need books now.”
“Just have … just have a look, lad,” said Lord Kinsale. “That’s all Miss Dav-Davenport is askin’. You nev-never know. You might find some-somethin’ you like.”
Tom sighed dramatically. “All right, my lord.” He turned away from the marquess but didn’t stray far from Mina’s side. Christopher joined him, and the boys each selected a book and began to thumb through the pages.
“Thank you, my lord,” said Mina, choosing a book herself. It was An Illustrated History of the British Isles; 1066 to Present Day. “Do you enjoy reading? Is there anything in particular you’d like to look at in the store?”
The marquess’s mouth lifted in a wry grin. “I’m ha-happy right here,” he said. “Unless you’re tryin’ to get rid o’ me, Miss Dav-Davenport.”
“Oh no,” said Mina hurriedly. “I didn’t mean that at all, my lord. And I apologize if—”
She stopped when she saw that Lord Kinsale’s eyes were gleaming with mischief.
“I’m just jokin’ with you,” the Irishman said with a soft chuckle that Mina seemed to feel all the way to her toes.
To hide her blush—heavens, she’d never blushed so much in her entire life—she slid the history book back into place then selected another title at random.
Robinson Crusoe. “I’d still be interested to know if reading is a pastime you enjoy, my lord.
Perhaps we could choose something for you to recite from tonight. ”
Lord Kinsale plucked a book from the shelf—it was a Dickens title—then returned it to its spot.
“I can-cannot say I am much of a re-reader. Growing up, me mam—I mean, my mother—did-didn’t have anythin’ much on hand except a worn-out B-B-Bible and a copy of Gulliver’s Travels, which I can-cannot say I enjoyed.
” He grimaced. “She ended up sellin’ both for-for food.
That was before I took up box-boxin’ for money. ”
“I’m sorry,” said Mina. And she meant it. “I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.”
“It’s not your fault, Miss Dav-Davenport. Do you … do you have any books you’d rec-recommend? A fa-favorite book? I find myself … I find myself wantin’ to learn more about you and the things you like.”
Oh goodness. Why did Mina’s heart flip over at the thought? “I … er. I would say my favorite book is Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte.” She laughed. “Ironically it’s about a governess.”
“Who falls … who falls in love with her employer?” Smiling, Lord Kinsale leaned an arm against the bookshelf and Mina tried very hard not to ogle the man’s bulging biceps muscles, which pushed against the seam of his coat.
“I know of it,” he continued, seemingly oblivious to Mina’s flustered state.
“It sounds quite scandalous, Miss Dav-Davenport. Com-completely outrageous.”
“Well, obviously that’s something that I would never do,” said Mina, attempting to marshal her professional, never-put-a-foot-wrong, never-going-to-give-my-heart-away-like-Jane-Eyre-did self. “After all, the Parasol Academy—”
“The Pa-Parasol Academy forbids fraternization? I know. I’m … I’m simply—”
“Teasing me again?” Mina sent the marquess a mock frown. “For shame, my lord. For what it’s worth, I also enjoy Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility and Emma by Jane Austen. And the poems of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Her Sonnets from the Portuguese is quite sublime.”
Again, that teasing, bordering-on-rakish smile. “Hmmm, all works with romantic themes if I’m not mis-mistaken.”