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Though it was beyond foolish, he had got the idea in his head, that if he could bring Goshen Court up to scratch and make it a safe and comfortable home for his daughter, that he might go some way to atoning for what he’d done.

Not that he had known Jenny had been pregnant.

He would have married her had he known, and caused the scandal to end all scandals too, for she was hardly eligible.

But she had known that and wished to save him from such a fiasco.

He had known nothing about his darling Tilly until after Jenny had died, leaving him the beautiful child who now occupied the entirety of his heart.

Yet he must leave her over Christmas and the knowledge ate away at him.

She did not know what Christmas was, he consoled himself, just as he had written to his brother, but it was cold comfort.

The new nanny certainly thought so. When he had explained he would need to leave over Christmas, she’d looked at him as if he’d crawled out of cheese.

This was possibly a step up from the utter contempt he had felt emanating from her at the revelation that he was actually the Earl of Ashburton and not Mr Russell.

He might have sent her on her way, if not for the manner in which she had greeted his daughter.

Everything had changed the moment Mrs Harris had met Tilly, and the woman had smiled warmly and spoken so kindly that the girl had taken to her at once.

In a matter of days, ‘Harry,’ as Tilly called her, had become her second favourite person in the world.

If he hadn’t been so relieved, Pip might have been a little jealous.

Still, one thing was clear: no matter what Mrs Harris thought of him, she adored Tilly, yet she was not so smitten that the child could run rings around her.

In truth, she was perfect for the position, and if the price he had to pay was to suffer her contempt, well, he’d pay it and gladly.

After all, it was no more than he deserved.

Putting the letter aside to be posted, he got up and made his way to the nursery.

It was the one place in the entire decrepit house that was actually warm and watertight, and he did not wish to miss a moment with his daughter.

He had arranged with the cook that a Christmas celebration dinner be prepared today, so he might celebrate with Tilly and give her the presents he’d bought.

Upon reaching the nursery, he opened the door and stepped in, pausing as he saw Mrs Harris and Tilly sitting side–by-side on an overstuffed and well-worn sofa before the fire. He really must get some new furniture, he thought with a sigh.

“And what is this one?” Mrs Harris asked, pointing at a picture in the book she held.

“Apple,” Tilly said, stabbing the picture with a chubby finger.

“Very good,” Mrs Harris said, approval in her voice. “And this?”

“Cat!” Tilly exclaimed triumphantly.

Mrs Harris laughed, and it was a surprisingly warm sound from a woman who emanated froideur towards him with such aggression it was a wonder he didn’t have frostbite.

“Clever girl. Now, this one is harder,” she said, watching Tilly with an amused smile.

Tilly stared at the picture, brow furrowed. “Carriage,” she said. “And horses. Papa’s horses?”

Mrs Harris shook her head. “Your father’s horses are black. What colour are these?”

“Brown,” Tilly replied, and then gave a squeal of delight as Pip made his presence known and came into the room.

“Papa!”

“Good morning to you, little bird, and how are you today?”

“Good,” Tilly announced as he picked her up, wrapping her arms about his neck. Pip looked towards Mrs Harris.

“Forgive me for interrupting your lesson, only I would like to spend some time with Tilly before I leave.”

“My time is yours to direct, my lord,” the woman said, though so stiffly it was clear she did not believe this for a moment.

“Well, we have a wonderful Christmas dinner to eat together, and then presents,” he told his daughter, whose eyes lit up.

“Presents!” she said, staring at him. “I like presents.”

“I think everyone likes presents, sweetheart. But we shall have a fine dinner first.”

“Harry eat dinner too?” she asked, gazing at her father with eyes of the same strange glinting silver as her grandfather.

Pip’s heart plummeted at the idea of the icy woman sharing a table with them but to his great relief Mrs Harris stepped into the breach.

“It wouldn’t be proper for me to eat with you, Miss Ottilie, but I shall see you again at bedtime. Now you enjoy your time with your father and be a good girl.”

“Yes, Harry,” Tilly said, looking rather crestfallen as she watched Mrs Harris gather up the books they had been reading.

“Say thank you to Mrs Harris, love,” Pip said, determined he behave just as he ought and give the woman no further reason to despise him.

“Thank you, Harry.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Ottilie,” the woman said, giving the girl a warm smile before turning to Pip. “My lord,” she said, her face suddenly devoid of any scrap of warmth, her tone cool.

Pip smiled inwardly, aware he had been dismissed. “Mrs Harris,” he said, inclining his head, as he carried his daughter out of the room.