Page 54 of The Nanny’s Handbook to Magic and Managing Difficult Dukes

A Seaside Sojourn, a Reunion, and Revelation…

“Nanny Chase, Nanny Chase,” called Gareth as he ran toward Emmeline across the pale golden sand of Kingsgate Beach. “Look what I found!”

“More sea-glass?” asked Emmeline as the excited boy tumbled a small handful of “pebbles” into her outstretched palm. The pieces of blue, aquamarine, and green glass, polished smooth by the sea’s waves, glinted in the late afternoon sunlight. “How beautiful.”

Harry, who was sitting on the sand a few feet away, glanced up from her notebook where’d she’d been sketching a starfish. This week, she’d decided she wanted to become a zoologist. “You have quite a lot now, Gareth,” she said. “Well done.”

“Yes, indeed,” said Emmeline. As she picked up an ice-blue fragment to examine it more closely, she tried very hard not to compare it to the Duke of St Lawrence’s eyes.

But of course, she failed. When it came to her employer, the more she tried not to think about him, the more her brain refused to cooperate.

Oh, she really was a hopeless, lovelorn case.

She attempted to hand Gareth’s treasures back, but the boy shook his head. “No, you keep them safe in your pocket, Nanny Chase. I don’t want to lose them.”

“Very well,” she said and closed her fingers around them.

“How is Bartholomew’s quest for seashells going?

” Emmeline glanced over to the shoreline where Bartholomew and her father were still searching for items to add to the boy’s collection.

Bertie waited close by, “standing guard.” Emmeline experienced a pang of sympathy for the young man; attired in his formal footman’s livery, he was the epitome of awkward.

Every time a wave washed up and threatened to splash over the toes of his leather shoes, he took a pronounced step backward.

At one point, he’d had to fight off a seagull that kept swooping down to peck at his powdered periwig and coat’s brass buttons.

(Although, that incident had been laugh-inducing rather than pang-inducing.)

Gareth screwed up his nose while he contemplated Emmeline’s question about his brother.

“I think Bartholomew’s found a few shells.

He wants Harry to name them all.” He brushed his sandy hands down the front of his breeches.

“Are you sure Cousin Xavier won’t pay a visit? I want to show him my sea-glass.”

Emmeline’s chest cramped with a bittersweet pain. While it was heartwarming to see how much closer the duke and his wards had become, she must acknowledge that it was partly her fault that His Grace had sent them all away. Or more to the point, she was the reason he wouldn’t be joining them.

But before she could respond to Gareth’s question, his sister spoke. “I want to see Cousin Xavier too,” said Harry. “But remember what Nanny Chase said. He needs peace and quiet to finish his special clock plans.”

“I know,” said Gareth with glum resignation, kicking at a nearby rock. “When can we go back to the castle, Nanny Chase? I’m getting hungry.”

Emmeline’s gaze skipped back to the gray walls of Kings cliff where it sat atop a chalk-faced promontory like a giant slumbering beast. The enormous clock in the castle’s central tower declared the time to be almost six o’clock. “I suppose we could return home now. It is getting on a bit.”

“Oh, jolly good,” declared Gareth with a bright smile. “I hope there’s something smashing for tea. I’ll go and get Bartholomew and Mr. Evans and Bertie.”

Before Emmeline could say anything, he raced off, his small feet kicking up a surprising amount of sand that landed in his sister’s lap.

“Ugh,” said Harry, climbing to her feet and shaking out her skirts. “Why are boys so tiresome?”

Emmeline laughed as she slipped Gareth’s sea-glass into her pocket. “They can be. Some more than others.”

Harry eyed her over her glasses. “Do you have brothers or sisters, Nanny Chase?”

“Just a brother,” she said. Her heart clenched with an entirely different sort of pang this time. “His name is Freddy. He’s a few years older than me.”

Harry nodded, her expression grave. “Well then, you must know exactly what I mean. About boys. I honestly don’t know why women ever fall in love and get married to the vexing creatures. I’m glad I’m going to be some sort of scientist one day and have a career. Then I won’t have to marry.”

“That certainly sounds like something to aspire to,” Emmeline said. “But I should point out, not all members of the opposite sex are vexing.”

Harry sighed and tucked her notebook under her arm. “Perhaps you’re right. I don’t think Cousin Xavier is vexing. Our mama loved our papa.” She glanced at Emmeline again. “Do you think you’ll ever get married again, Mrs. Chase?”

“Oh… I… Probably not,” she said, suddenly feeling flustered. Perhaps she needed to have a talk with Miss Harriet Mason about what sorts of topics were “manners” and which were not. Just like she needed to have yet another stern talk with herself about her inappropriate obsession with the duke.

Even though they’d all been in Kent for over a fortnight, Emmeline still thought about her employer far too much. At this rate, she’d never be rid of her unrequited love for this man.

The boys, her father, and Bertie joined her and Harry, and then they all began the trek back to Kingscliff Castle.

It was a good five-minute walk across the strand past the other beachgoers, and then they had to scale a steep set of stone stairs up to the shop- and hotel-lined High Street of the small village of Kingsgate.

One of the duke’s carriages would then ferry them back to the castle.

While Emmeline would have enjoyed the walk up the steep headland—and no doubt Harry and Bertie could manage it—she was concerned that such a trek would prove too difficult for her father and young Gareth and Bartholomew.

Her father, while much improved, still had nights when his cough plagued him.

As they walked, Emmeline’s gaze settled on the duke’s childhood home and its rather grim aspect—its dark gray bulk with its crenellated battlements and looming central tower.

She shivered as she imagined Xavier as a small boy, banished to that clock tower, all alone and afraid, high above the bustling hamlet and beach.

To think she might have been down on the shore, paddling and collecting shells and sea-glass while he was imprisoned with nothing to do but watch the beach below and the inner workings of the great clock.

No wonder he’d developed a passion for timekeeping.

If she had the magical ability to turn back the hands of time, she would storm that castle and rescue him.

Emmeline was helping Bertie to hand the children into the duke’s carriage when someone across the street by the King’s Arms Hotel called her name. “Emmeline!”

Freddy?

She swung around on the footpath and then her mouth dropped open in shocked amazement. It was her brother.

“Freddy!” She couldn’t hide the incredulity in her voice. “What on earth are you doing here? How did you find me… and Papa?” Her gaze swung to their father, whose countenance had blanched. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Son,” said Edward Evans gruffly. And then he dabbed at his eyes with his sleeve.

Turning to Emmeline he said, “I wrote to your brother, after I left New—” He broke off and glanced at Bertie, but the footman was still fussing about with the carriage.

“And then I sent him another letter after we left London. I wanted him to know that I was out of danger. And that I didn’t blame him for… for everything that happened.”

“I see,” said Emmeline. Perhaps that explained why she’d caught glimpses of Freddy near the park in Belgrave Square and then at the Crystal Palace. She beckoned to her brother. “Well come on then, Freddy. Don’t stand there like a shag on a rock.”

He gave a quick nod, then, hands stuffed deep in his coat pockets, he crossed the street. When he reached them, he chewed on his lip for a moment then said, “It’s… it’s good to see you both.”

Edward Evans snorted. “Is that all you’re going to say? Come here, Son.” And then he reached out and embraced Freddy tightly. When he drew back, he wiped his eyes on his sleeve again.

Freddy eyed Emmeline sheepishly. “Might I have a hug too, Sis?”

Emmeline gave an inelegant sniff and dashed at her damp cheek with her fingertips. While part of her wanted to embrace her brother, she wasn’t quite ready to forgive him for everything he’d done. All the pain he’d caused their family. She also didn’t trust him. Not yet.

“I’m on duty,” she said, and gestured with her chin at the carriage. “I’m taking care of my employer’s wards.”

Freddy nodded. “I understand, but I… I need to speak with you. It’s important.”

Even though Emmeline’s curiosity was piqued, she frowned. “Very well. I suppose you’d best come back to the castle with us then. We can talk in the garden.”

“I can walk and meet you there,” said Freddy. “If there isn’t enough room in the carriage.”

“All right,” said Emmeline. She wouldn’t let her wards out of her sight until they were safely installed in the nursery at Kingscliff with one of the maids and Bertie watching over them. “I shall see you soon.”

Freddy nodded. “I’ll be there.” Then he turned and strode away, shoulders hunched, his hands still in his pockets, heading for the castle on the cliff.

“It’s good of you to see me, Em,” said Freddy not half an hour later. They faced each other in Kingscliff’s knot garden on the leeside of the castle. “I know you don’t have a lot of reason to trust me, considering how things ended the last time we met.”

Emmeline nodded. “You could say that. You were trying to drag me back to the Oberon and throw me on stage to do Lord knows what to keep you in business.”

Freddy winced. “I’m truly sorry for that. But I was desperate and afraid that I—” He pressed his lips together.

“Afraid that you were going to end up in Newgate like our poor father?”

“Yes. I still might unless…”