Chapter 22 #2
A few minutes later, Emmeline caught sight of a petite woman marching with sure steps across the square far below. She couldn’t see the pedestrian’s face—it was hidden by a pearlgray parasol trimmed with lace—but Emmeline knew it was Mrs. Felicity Temple.
Glancing at her pocket watch, Emmeline saw that it was precisely three o’clock.
Who’d have thought that such a pleasant-sounding, innocuous hour—the time when one took afternoon tea or naps—could very well be the hour of her professional doom.
When the summons came twenty minutes later—one of the housemaids knocked on her door to relay the message—Emmeline descended to the drawing room with heavy footsteps and an even heavier heart.
She would tell the truth. She wouldn’t paint herself in a better light or sugarcoat her actions. The Parasol Academy Handbook hadn’t prepared her for a situation like this, but attempting to minimize her own failure would not help.
Upon entering the drawing room, Emmeline found Mrs. Temple sitting alone by a large bay window with a tea tray set out before her.
The headmistress immediately put down her cup and rushed over to greet Emmeline.
She gathered up Emmeline’s hands and gave them a light squeeze.
“Oh, Mrs. Chase. Just look at you.” Her concerned gaze traveled over Emmeline’s face.
“The duke said you’d been hurt, and he wasn’t exaggerating.
Are you sure you’re up to speaking with me? ”
Emmeline breathed a small internal sigh of relief. Mrs. Temple didn’t seem displeased with her. Not yet at any rate. “Yes, I am, ma’am,” she said. “I think it’s best for everyone if we talk sooner rather than later.”
“Very well, if you’re sure.” The headmistress gestured toward the pair of shepherdess chairs by the window.
“Come and sit and we can go over what happened in Hyde Park. I’m afraid it’s Parasol Academy protocol when a major incident involving one of our nannies or governesses occurs.
Especially when one of her charges has been endangered and the event is very much in the public eye. ”
“Yes. I understand,” replied Emmeline as she took a seat.
Mrs. Temple offered to pour her a cup of tea, but she politely declined, claiming her lip was too sore.
In truth, her stomach was churning far too much.
While Emmeline was reassured that she wasn’t in any immediate danger of being hauled over the coals for misconduct, until she knew for certain her job and license were safe, her nerves would be all ajangle.
“Now,” said Mrs. Chase, “the Duke of St Lawrence and I have had a good talk and we both want to reassure you that you are in no way to blame for what happened today. The attempted kidnapping of little Gareth Mason was not your fault.”
“What the duke doesn’t know is that I was speaking with his raven, Horatio Ravenscar Esquire, when Gareth was taken,” said Emmeline dolefully. “I wasn’t watching his ward closely enough. I’d entrusted his care to the nurserymaid-in-training.”
“Who let go of his hand and didn’t watch where he went or who he spoke to.” The headmistress’s expression was grave but kind. “Mrs. Chase, you are being too hard on yourself. How long did you converse with Horatio? Whom I have just met, by the way, and what a charming fellow he is.”
Emmeline thought back. “I’d say a minute. At the most. But a minute is all it takes sometimes.”
Mrs. Temple shook her head. “We cannot have our eyes glued to each and every child twenty-four hours a day, for every single second. I understand one of the duke’s footmen was in attendance too.”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts. Your continued self-flagellation will not help protect the duke’s wards.
What you must do is provide a thorough account to the Metropolitan Police when they arrive.
In fact, the duke has requested that Scotland Yard detectives investigate the matter.
He believes young Gareth’s attempted kidnapping may be linked to a domestic sabotage plot. ”
“I believe he’s correct,” said Emmeline.
And then she gave (a slightly edited) account of everything strange and sinister that had occurred since she’d taken up her post. (The only incident she was particularly vague about was the time she and the duke had been pursued by the guv’nor’s two hired henchmen.
Mrs. Temple didn’t need to know that she’d cast the Cloakify spell, then kissed the duke in the rain.
It would not be wise at all to divulge she’d broken yet two more Parasol Academy rules, thus risking the immediate cancellation of her nannying license.)
Mrs. Temple nodded and hmm -ed throughout Emmeline’s narrative and at the end, she said, “Yes, that aligns perfectly with everything the duke told me. It is of great concern to me, and His Grace, that there’s been an escalation in the types of attacks occurring.
An attempted abduction is terrible indeed.
Thanks to your brave actions and quick thinking, you rescued young Gareth. ”
“Horatio helped.” Emmeline explained how the raven had scouted for Gareth in the crowd in Hyde Park and that’s how she’d been able to locate the boy so quickly.
“And it’s most admirable that you’ve cultivated such a wonderful relationship with the duke’s pet. Which is another reason why I don’t think it was a terrible thing that you were chatting to the raven today.”
Emmeline winced. “The publicity surrounding this is going to be awful, isn’t it? And what will Queen Victoria think, considering she issued the Academy a Royal Charter?”
“Oh, Her Majesty thinks you are marvelous, Mrs. Chase. A credit to the Parasol Academy. I’ve already spoken with her and there’s nothing at all to worry about on that score.
As for publicity—I will be providing an official statement to the newspapers.
Any headlines and articles that appear in the coming days will portray both you and the Academy in a positive light.
If they do not, I’m certain Her Majesty will have something to say about it. ”
“Oh goodness.” Emmeline at last let out a shaky but relieved sigh. She could hardly believe it. Everything was going to be all right—
“However,” said Mrs. Temple, “there is another matter—something of quite a delicate nature—that I need to broach with you.”
“I see,” said Emmeline carefully, even though she didn’t. “It sounds… serious.”
Mrs. Temple’s clear silver gaze met hers.
“One of the other Parasol nannies who was present in Hyde Park today, she did notice something a little odd and felt duty-bound to report it. It’s nothing you did, Mrs. Chase, but it was noted that the duke placed his hand on your back in a most familiar way as he escorted you from the Park. ”
Oh… Emmeline couldn’t stop the telling flare of heat that crept up her neck into her cheeks. “I-I don’t recall that His Grace did that. I was rather shaken after my impromptu wrestling match with my charge’s kidnapper.”
“I’m sure you were in a bit of pain too,” said Mrs. Temple, her voice soft with sympathy.
But then her expression firmed. “While the duke was no doubt concerned for your well-being, this nanny also said that he became quite incensed when a gentleman in the crowd verbally insulted you and made vulgar insinuations about your virtue. In fact, the duke gripped him about the neck then threw him to the ground.”
“Yes. That did happen,” said Emmeline. “It was Sir Randolph Redvers, a rival horologist who was rude to me. The duke suspects that the baronet might be behind this sabotage plot. I suppose it’s only natural that he’d had enough of the man who could have orchestrated the kidnapping of his ward.
I don’t think there’s anything more to it than that.
” (Oh dear. Another lie. Was there a special Fae hell for fibbers?)
“I see,” said Mrs. Temple. She picked up her cup of tea, took a quick sip, then put it down again with a precise click.
“In light of the duke’s actions, and the fact it is clearly not safe for his wards to stay in London at present, I suggested to His Grace that he might consider sending you and the children away for a while. And he agrees.”
“He does?” murmured Emmeline faintly as astonishment momentarily stole her breath.
Then she cleared the throb of emotion suddenly clogging her throat and said as firmly as she could, “Of course.” Because what else could she say?
It wasn’t as though she hadn’t been contemplating worse outcomes a short time ago.
She hadn’t lost her license or her job altogether.
She should be relieved, not trying to stem the prick of tears.
“I know you will understand it’s for the best.” The headmistress’s expression grew kind.
“You are an attractive, vivacious young widow, Mrs. Chase. It’s understandable that the duke might become enamored of you.
There’s a reason the Parasol Academy has a strict, no fraternization policy.
We don’t want anyone’s judgment to be compromised, and romantic entanglements tend to do that. ”
“That’s not… I don’t think…” Emmeline pressed her lips together then winced because of the resultant sting. “I’m sure the duke doesn’t harbor any sort of tendre for me.”
Oh, that was the biggest, fattest lie she’d ever told. She was definitely bound for Fae Fibber Hell.
And then a voice at the back of her mind whispered, The duke is going to send you away. So perhaps he doesn’t feel anything for you. Maybe you’ve been misreading the whole situation.
And then she told herself to stop being such a selfish, selfpitying ninny-poop. This wasn’t about her. This was about the children and what they needed. Her feelings, or the duke’s for that matter, did not signify.
Mrs. Temple cast her another sympathetic look. “That might be true, but I rather think some time away is all for the best. No doubt His Grace will have more to say to you about where he would like his wards, and you, to reside.”
Emmeline clasped her fingers together in her lap and her abraded, swollen knuckles protested. “Yes. I’m sure he will,” she said far too brightly, ignoring the pain in her hand and in her heart.
Nothing to see here. Nothing’s amiss. I’m really not about to burst into tears.
“Which is why I will leave you now.” Mrs. Temple rose to her feet and Emmeline did too.
“You did well today, Mrs. Chase,” she said with a kind smile.
“I trust you will continue to shine as one of our best and brightest Parasol nannies.” Reaching out, she touched Emmeline’s arm. “I shall see myself out.”
As the door closed behind the headmistress, Emmeline sank onto her chair again.
She didn’t feel shiny at all. She felt as glum and miserable as a raincloud on a midwinter’s day.
A tear escaped and this time, she didn’t wipe it off her cheek. Even when it touched her split lip and made it sting.
The duke was going to send her away, and she didn’t think she could bear it.
Because she loved him.