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“A father’s tears and fears are unseen, his love is unexpressed, but his care and protection remains as a pillar of strength throughout our lives.” Ama H. Vanniarachchy
—-
Chapter Four
Nate helped Maggie into the carriage before climbing in himself. He was still fuming over the ignorant comments the Giselle woman had made regarding Charlotte’s size. She was a tiny girl anyway! For a gown to be too tight it had to be ridiculously small.
“I want you to eat every meal from now on, Maggie,” Nate instructed. “No fussing.” He didn’t want her thinking that she needed to stop eating, nor would he be having her fit for a corset when she was old enough. The sight of Charlotte collapsing because of one had scared him half to death.
He could have sworn his own heart had stopped as soon as she said, ‘I can’t breathe.’ Watching her slight body crumple to the floor for a second time was nearly enough to put him into an early grave.
He’d noticed her pinching her sides and looking as though she was breathing uncomfortably throughout the evening, so he knew it was her corset that was restricting her.
He’d put Maggie on the ground and had grabbed the first object he could find. It was a golden candelabra that had hung on the wall in the foyer. He’d blown out the flames and then smashed the hilt against the floor so he could create a serrated edge. He’d grabbed the bodice of her gown and had hacked at the material with the candelabra while he ignored the frightened cries of her family around him.
It didn’t even occur to Nate that he was seeing Charlotte in her undergarments. As soon as the white corset was in view, he could see just how tightly it was pulled. Her shoulders were not broad, they were normal, but her waist was half, if not a third of that width. Nate had hacked at the laces on her corset until each of them gave way. As soon as the corset was free from her, she became conscious once again and gasped for air.
There was no sound sweeter than that of her breathing, he’d decided.
Maggie yawned. “Sure, Daddy,” she said drowsily. “You were real brave,” she commented as she laid down on the seat in the carriage and settled her head on his thigh. “And she was watching you real nice-like.”
“Thank you,” he said in reply to her compliment, but he paused when he processed her second statement. “Wait, what?” Even though he’d spent two years there, some of the laidback American language escaped him.
“You know,” Maggie said lethargically. “Smitten-like.” She settled down on his leg and closed her eyes, the soft jolts of the carriage rocking her into slumber.
Smitten? He hadn’t got that impression from her when he’d first arrived. Did it make him a terrible man to want to persuade her away from a fiancé he didn’t even know? Nate prayed her fiancé was a horrid man so it wouldn’t be hard to convince her that he was truly sorry and that she belonged with him. But if he was a good man then it would be a hard task.
Nate loosened the cravat around his neck and laid his head back. He was glad Bess had brought him home. He’d only loved one woman in his life, and he’d let her slip through his arms so easily. He wouldn’t be making the same mistake twice. After all, she was looking at him smitten-like.
***
When the carriage pulled back into his estate at Montrose, it was an odd feeling, yet a good feeling. It was definitely time to come home. It would be a good home to Maggie as well. She’d no doubt stir and alarm a few people but she’d be a welcome breath of fresh air to the stiff traditions that England held so dear.
Though it startled him to think that one day she’d be called upon by suitors. He knew Maggie would be a very loyal companion … and a rather entertaining one.
Nate lifted Maggie into his arms and carried her out of the carriage and into the foyer of the hold house he called home. It was nowhere near as grand as Ascot House but it suited him just fine.
John Jacoby, the trusted butler that had run Montrose since the days of his grandfather, greeted him with a warm smile. He’d startled his household when he’d returned home suddenly, but they’d quickly adjusted. Mr Jacoby had been caring for the estate in Nate’s absence. It wasn’t at all in his job description but he’d done so happily.
“Good evening, milord,” Mr Jacoby said in a hushed tone. He was a good-looking older man, with a happy face and curly, silver hair. He was slightly portly but it only added to his endearing nature. “Lady Margaret’s bed has been turned down.” Maggie enjoyed being called ‘Lady Margaret.’ Though she didn’t like her full name, being referred to as a lady made her feel special. “I’ve asked one of the housemaids to attend to her for the time being until we can find a proper governess.”
That was something he needed to do. He needed to place an advertisement to find Maggie a governess. She’d been doing so well with her lessons and he wanted to continue her progress. “Thank you, Mr Jacoby. I’ll take her upstairs.” He stopped himself before he walked towards the staircase. “And thank you … for everything you’ve done in my absence. I had a chance to peruse the legers earlier and everything is impeccable. I’ll have to make you my private secretary or something.”
Mr Jacoby chuckled. “You’re very welcome, milord, but my calling lies in service. It was exciting to sit in the chair for a while but I wouldn’t want to do it forever. I am best served commanding downstairs than up.”
Nate chuckled. “Remind me to increase your salary, would you?”
“Very good, milord.” Mr Jacoby bowed his head. “Will that be all?”
“Yes, good night, Mr Jacoby.” Nate carried Maggie gently up the stairs and into her bedchamber. He’d given her the bedroom that connected with his, typically the room occupied by the Countess of Montrose, though it hadn’t been used for the purpose in years; the Swifts had had a long line of loving marriages. He wanted Maggie to be able to find him easily if she needed him. She’d just crossed an ocean; she had a right to be a little bewildered.
He laid her down on the wide bed and then pulled the duvet over her. She looked so small in such a wide bed. He couldn’t help but smile. She looked very innocent when she was sleeping. But when she was awake and observing everyone she was the canniest young lady he’d ever encountered.
When Caroline had asked him to take Maggie he’d thought it was the craziest idea he’d ever heard. He’d thought that insanity might’ve taken her in her final hours. Nevertheless he’d promised to take her.
Maggie was a sassy spitfire when he’d first met her. She still was. After Caroline had died though, Maggie’s attitude had become aggressive and she’d spent more time running away from him than she did in his eyesight. Maggie hadn’t wanted a replacement for her mother at first.
After a few months of trying as hard as he possibly could to connect to Maggie and keep her in one place, he’d finally had a breakthrough. Maggie had run away from their Charlotte house and Nate had chased after her. She’d run straight into the path of a stage loaded with heavy trunks. She would have been flattened. With a sudden burst of energy, Nate had run into the middle of the street and he’d grabbed her just in time.
He told her then and there that she could run just as long as she wanted, but he would always catch her in the end because he wasn’t about to give up on her. She believed him. After that she’d started to let him in. She went to bed when he told her to, she got up when he told her to, she held his hand when they were out and about. Eventually she’d begun to call him ‘Daddy.’
If Charlotte didn’t love him anymore, then he would be alright eventually. He already had a lady in his life, and he loved her more than anything.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing her forehead.
***
Nate awoke the next morning to the feeling of someone poking at his eyes. “What in the world?” he grumbled, keeping his eyes closed.
“Your lady friend wrote you a letter,” Maggie chirped. He heard her flapping the letter about. “She says thank you for saving her life and she wants us to go to Ascot for luncheon — whatever that is — and to play cricket … what’s cricket?”
Nate squinted. Maggie had opened his thick drapes and the sunlight was streaming in. “Is there a time when I’ll read my letters first, Maggie?” he mumbled. He held out his hand for the letter. Sure enough it was in Charlotte’s neat hand. She apologised for not thanking him the night before and she wanted him to know how grateful she was to him. She’d invited them both to luncheon at one in the afternoon and for an afternoon on the green playing cricket ‘just as we all did as children,’ she’d written. He grinned. “Luncheon is a midday meal and cricket is a sport,” he explained.
“You’re the one who wanted me to read,” she reminded him, showing a little of her sassy attitude.
He smirked and grabbed her jaw in his hand. “Don’t be clever with me, young lady. I want my letters sealed, thank you.”
She rolled her pale green eyes and nodded. “Do you think they’ll have cornbread at luncheon?” she asked, putting emphasis on the word that was new to her.
“I’ll ask our cook to find a recipe for you,” he promised. “Are you hungry?”
Maggie nodded. “I got to eat every meal, right Daddy?”
There she was, listening. “Absolutely.” He nodded. “Go and ring your bell so that you can get dressed and I’ll meet you downstairs for breakfast in twenty minutes.”
***
Nate didn’t think he’d have to worry about Maggie missing a meal. She’d enjoyed her English scones very much indeed.
“Y’all might have some nasty-looking green soup but you sure do have nice desserts,” she’d said, cream and jam lining her lips.
“Scones aren’t dessert, they’re an occasional breakfast treat. Eggs tomorrow, I think, and fruit.”
After breakfast, Nate had set Maggie up in the library with ‘The Sleeping Beauty.’ She’d curiously read the inscription and had giggled, spying him thoughtfully. She was far too inquisitive for her own good.
He’d then gone up to his study to further check over the legers of his estate. Everything was in order and kept perfectly. Rent had been paid on time, new leases had been drawn up and signed, and his farming land was turning a decent profit.
Nate decided then, in the coming week, he’d go out and visit each one of his tenants and let them know that he cared. It was something his father had always done. Though a broken man himself, he always had time to lend a helping hand. He’d neglected his responsibilities for two years. It was time to rectify the situation.
When it came time to dress for the trip to Ascot, Nate chose a forest green coat with an ivory waist jacket and matching cravat. He’d been told by women in the past that the colour suited his eyes and he wanted to look his best. He wanted to encourage the smitten-like behaviour.
He stepped into his freshly laundered slacks and polished boots and then ran his hand through his blond curls. He needed a haircut. It was getting a little long. He then felt his rather long whiskers and decided that he would shave before he and Maggie left for Ascot. Bess had told him that he needed a shave.
He quickly cleaned and sharpened his blade and then lathered his face with soap and water. He then ran the blade over his face as speedily and proficiently as possible, trying to avoid any injuries.
When his jaw was smooth, it was time for them to get in the carriage and go to Ascot.
“Now, if they serve something like pheasant, what are you going to do?” Nate asked Maggie in the carriage. They’d been rehearsing correct table manners for a good hour.
Maggie smirked. “Seeing as I don’t know what pheasant is, I’m not so sure.”
“A pheasant is a bird, but that is not what’s important. What are you going to do?” he pressed.
“I’m going to eat three quarters of the dish, smile, and then complain in private,” she repeated his previous instructions.
“Very good,” Nate complimented. “And what do we not do with our cutlery? Particularly Emmett’s fancy silver.”
“Lick it and stick it on my nose. But I don’t care what you say, it makes people laugh.” Maggie shrugged.
Nate chuckled. “When we’re alone, feel free to stick your cutlery wherever you please, just not when we’re dinner guests. Lastly, what do we not do with our elbows?”
“You’re no fun.” Maggie pouted.
“I’m incredibly fun,” Nate said cockily.
“Do you think Lady Charlotte likes me?” Maggie asked suddenly, nervously playing with a section of her hair.
“What would make you think she wouldn’t? She gave you her book, didn’t she?” Nate had actually found Charlotte and Maggie’s interactions touching.
Maggie pursed her lips. “Momma used to say that sometimes I could be trying on her nerves. Momma said that if I ran my mouth too much people wouldn’t understand me.” Maggie didn’t often look vulnerable. But right now she did. “I run my mouth, Daddy. And I get on your nerves. I like sticking your fancy spoons to my face and I don’t like your fancy birds or your fancy soups. You want your Lady Charlotte, but what if she doesn’t want me?”
“Sit,” he instructed, tapping his lap. Maggie moved from the seat opposite him to sit on his lap. Nate encircled her in his arms and held her close. “She’d be a fool not to love you, and I won’t pursue any fool. We’re a team, you and I. We come together or not at all.”
Maggie didn’t look convinced. “Momma’s old piano player used to call me a brat. Sometimes he’d called me a bastard child. I don’t know what that means, but he said that I’d be best served in the workhouse. I could still go …”
“Enough of that,” he said firmly. “I love you. Every taxing bit of you.” Nate leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. He then tapped his own cheek with his forefinger. Maggie grinned and kissed his cheek.
“I love you, too, Daddy,” she said sincerely.
“If you want to put your elbows on the table, you can. We’re not dining with the King of England.”
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