Read Online Miss Grantham's One True Sin (The Regency Matchmaker Series Book 2) by Melynda Beth Andrews - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Melynda Beth Andrews
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natural. His late sister-in-law hadn’t exactly been the maternal type, but Marianna Grantham seemed to like children. He supposed he should be grateful for that small boon, but he couldn’t bring himself to rejoice. He wondered how interesting she’d find the ABC’s in comparison to London’s charms. Would she leave the girls here rusticating for months on end here in the country as had his brother and sister-in-law? He wouldn’t doubt it for a second.
Mrs. Robertson grunted. "Marianna will believe you are cross with her for being late if she catches you with such a sour expression."
"I am not scowling."
"Humph!"
True wanted to ask Mrs. Robertson why she cared what Miss Grantham thought of him, but he knew better. Over the past three days, the old lady had been exasperatingly close-lipped, making it clear that she would divulge information in her own time and not before.
True paced the marble floor a few more minutes and then glanced at his watch. "Miss Grantham has been an early riser until now. Do you think I should have a maid check on her? Perhaps she has gone back to sleep." Or perhaps the ABC's have lured her to the tower garret and tied her in order to have her to themselves the entire day.
They'd been quite put out with True for having to share her with him.
Ophelia Robertson shook her head. "New frocks demand extra time for dressing, Trowbridge. She shall be down presently—and you shall be properly appreciative of her efforts if you know what you are about."
A movement at the top of the stairs caught his eye, and True turned to see the ABC's. His eyes widened, for they were floating downstairs in a cloud of pristine white muslin. They each wore a clean frock with lovely wide ribbon sashes—one yellow, one pink, and one green.
Their shiny hair was dressed in matching ribbons. They were perfect, from their washed and glowing faces to the dainty black slippers they each wore on their usually-unshod feet. They tried to act serenely dignified as they descended the stairs, but before they reached half-way, they spoiled their grand entrance by dissolving into excited giggles and running to crowd around True, where they posed and twirled for his benefit and all spoke at once.
"Are you surpwised, Uncle Sin?"
"Mary curled my hair to look just like hers!"
"Do you think we look all the crack?"
Mrs. Roberston spoke. "You should not say 'all the crack,' dear. It is not proper."
"Ophelia!" All three little girls squealed and ran to pose and twirl for her. The old woman admired their frocks, clucking over them appreciatively and, True took note, not reprimanding them for using her given name.
True smiled after them, and Miss Grantham appeared suddenly at his elbow. "I apologize that I kept you waiting, my lord. Beatrice's curls were dreadfully knotted."
"Miss Grantham," he said, marveling at the change in the girls' appearance. "Even God took six days to perform some miracles. You have managed to complete one in four."
She wrinkled her nose. "I wouldn't call this one complete. Eleanor still refuses to wear gloves, as you can see, and I had to bribe Alyse with the promise of an extra hour of reading to her tonight in order to get her to wash behind her ears. But I think I am making progress."
"Indeed," he said. "I would hardly recognize them. Do you know, I have never seen them wearing their good clothes."
"Why, that is because they had none, my lord. I took the liberty of examining the children's wardrobes and then had these dresses made," she said. "Do they not look lovely?" She went to join “Ophelia” in praising and admiring the girls, and it was only then that True noticed what Miss Grantham was wearing.
Or what she wasn't wearing, rather.
She had on the same plain brown traveling gown she'd had on the day she arrived. He touched her elbow to get her attention.
She turned to him. "My lord?"
"Pray, take your time in getting dressed. There is no need to rush. We shall be happy to wait."
She
Mrs. Robertson grunted. "Marianna will believe you are cross with her for being late if she catches you with such a sour expression."
"I am not scowling."
"Humph!"
True wanted to ask Mrs. Robertson why she cared what Miss Grantham thought of him, but he knew better. Over the past three days, the old lady had been exasperatingly close-lipped, making it clear that she would divulge information in her own time and not before.
True paced the marble floor a few more minutes and then glanced at his watch. "Miss Grantham has been an early riser until now. Do you think I should have a maid check on her? Perhaps she has gone back to sleep." Or perhaps the ABC's have lured her to the tower garret and tied her in order to have her to themselves the entire day.
They'd been quite put out with True for having to share her with him.
Ophelia Robertson shook her head. "New frocks demand extra time for dressing, Trowbridge. She shall be down presently—and you shall be properly appreciative of her efforts if you know what you are about."
A movement at the top of the stairs caught his eye, and True turned to see the ABC's. His eyes widened, for they were floating downstairs in a cloud of pristine white muslin. They each wore a clean frock with lovely wide ribbon sashes—one yellow, one pink, and one green.
Their shiny hair was dressed in matching ribbons. They were perfect, from their washed and glowing faces to the dainty black slippers they each wore on their usually-unshod feet. They tried to act serenely dignified as they descended the stairs, but before they reached half-way, they spoiled their grand entrance by dissolving into excited giggles and running to crowd around True, where they posed and twirled for his benefit and all spoke at once.
"Are you surpwised, Uncle Sin?"
"Mary curled my hair to look just like hers!"
"Do you think we look all the crack?"
Mrs. Roberston spoke. "You should not say 'all the crack,' dear. It is not proper."
"Ophelia!" All three little girls squealed and ran to pose and twirl for her. The old woman admired their frocks, clucking over them appreciatively and, True took note, not reprimanding them for using her given name.
True smiled after them, and Miss Grantham appeared suddenly at his elbow. "I apologize that I kept you waiting, my lord. Beatrice's curls were dreadfully knotted."
"Miss Grantham," he said, marveling at the change in the girls' appearance. "Even God took six days to perform some miracles. You have managed to complete one in four."
She wrinkled her nose. "I wouldn't call this one complete. Eleanor still refuses to wear gloves, as you can see, and I had to bribe Alyse with the promise of an extra hour of reading to her tonight in order to get her to wash behind her ears. But I think I am making progress."
"Indeed," he said. "I would hardly recognize them. Do you know, I have never seen them wearing their good clothes."
"Why, that is because they had none, my lord. I took the liberty of examining the children's wardrobes and then had these dresses made," she said. "Do they not look lovely?" She went to join “Ophelia” in praising and admiring the girls, and it was only then that True noticed what Miss Grantham was wearing.
Or what she wasn't wearing, rather.
She had on the same plain brown traveling gown she'd had on the day she arrived. He touched her elbow to get her attention.
She turned to him. "My lord?"
"Pray, take your time in getting dressed. There is no need to rush. We shall be happy to wait."
She
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