Addie counted every tread as she walked back to the entry. Twenty-one. She kept track of every time she put her foot down on the entry and porch, and on each of the front steps. Thirty. And she prayed. The austere man she’d glimpsed sitting in the automobile next to the lieutenant wasn’t what she’d expected.
The yard was empty except for Gideon and Edward. Smiling, she approached the boy and dog. “He likes you, Edward.” She couldn’t resist touching his hair again. The soft locks curled around her finger.
“Can I have him?” The question was asked with the innocence of a child who had never been denied.
Addie inhaled as she tried to decide how to answer. She’d raised Gideon from a puppy and would never give him up. “I’ll be happy to share him,” she said finally. “But he’s my dog.”
Edward’s lip thrust out. “I want him to be my dog.” He began to sob.
Addie wanted to gather him in her arms and soothe his cries, but she knew it wasn’t wise to give in to every demand.
“How did you get him to do that?” a gruff voice demanded from behind her. “The dog, I mean. Yvonne informed me the canine appeared to have anticipated my grandson’s fit.”
She turned to see Henry Eaton approaching. He’d removed his cap and scarf. Flecks of mud dulled the sheen of his boots. “I don’t know, Mr. Eaton. I’ve never seen him do anything like this before.”
Edward had his arms around Gideon’s neck. “He seemed quite attuned to the lad,” Mr. Eaton said.
“He’s always been intuitive. Whenever a shipwreck occurred at our lighthouse, he knew before we did. He would have plunged into the raging sea if I had allowed him to do so.”
“He must stay with my grandson at all times,” Mr. Eaton said. “You’re the new governess, is that right?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, raising her voice above Edward’s hiccupping sobs.
He studied the dog again. “We should breed him. His pups might have his magical ability as well. I’ll find a female at once. Where did you find him?”
“In Crescent City. My father bought him from a neighbor.”
“Give me his name, and I’ll see if he has any other dogs with this one’s ability. What’s the dog’s name?”
“Gideon.”
“This is a lucky day for us, young lady. We must do all in our power to make sure you and the dog stay with us.”
The note of approval in his voice brought the truth to the front of her tongue. How much greater would his welcome be if he knew she was his daughter? She had to get away before she blurted out the story. “I believe God brought me here for a reason, Mr. Eaton. I’ll do my part to follow the Lord’s guidance in all ways.”
“Such simple faith,” he said. “Very quaint.”
His condescending tone squared her shoulders. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to unpack.”
The intensity of his demeanor softened. “I’ve come on too strong with you. Please accept my apology, Miss Sullivan. We all indulge the child too much. It’s his af-affliction, you see.”
His heartfelt stammer tugged at her heart. “No need to apologize. “I’ve already fallen in love with Edward myself. I’ll protect him with my life. After all, God has arranged this for Edward’s benefit.”
Eaton tipped his head to the side. “You look familiar. Have we met?”
She turned her head. “I don’t remember meeting you, sir. I grew up much north of here.”
“Strange,” he muttered. He put his large hand on Edward’s head. “Enough of these histrionics, Edward. The dog will be here for you. Miss Sullivan has graciously agreed to share the animal with you. Stop the wailing.”
Her charge sniffled, then swiped the back of his hand across his wet face. “Can he sleep with me, Granddad?”
“You know I quite dislike animals in the house, boy,” his grandfather said.
“But he helped me!” Tears filled Edward’s eyes.
Eaton sighed. “Very well. But keep him out from under my feet. And out of the kitchen, you hear? It will be your job every morning to put him out for the day. He’s not to lie around on the rugs.”
Edward’s eyes began to shine. “Yes, sir!”
Addie hid a smile at the boy’s deft manipulation. She would have her hands full with him. He’d been coddled all his life. While she pitied him his affliction, it would be her job to see that he developed into a man, not a namby-pamby without backbone. At least her father showed love and compassion.
A movement caught her attention, and she watched Lieutenant North approach from the carriage house where the automobile was stowed. Warmth crept into her skin. When they’d talked over Edward’s bed, she’d had the most peculiar sensation, as if something inside her had recognized him—the timbre of his voice, the way he looked at her as if he really saw her. He possessed everything she’d dreamed of when she read Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s poetry: wide shoulders that tapered to a trim waist, unruly black hair, and dark brown eyes that pierced right through her defenses. She’d read about love at first sight and assumed it was the stuff of dime novels, but when she held this man’s gaze, she could almost believe in it.
Her gaze went to her dog. Had he really sensed Edward’s approaching seizure? Often she’d thought Gideon could sense pain and despair. He’d proven it again today when he’d led her to the garment factory. What if he possessed some innate ability to predict the seizures? He could be a great boon to the child.
She told herself not to be so silly. It was a childish fancy that had taken Edward. He’d soon outgrow it and move on to a new obsession. Children always did. She turned toward the driveway as a carriage turned in at the gate.
John turned his back on Miss Sullivan and approached his mother-in-law’s carriage as it rolled to a stop. He extended his hand to help her alight. Would Katherine have aged as well as Clara? Her creamy skin was unlined, though he knew she had to be fifty or a little older by now. The smile he greeted her with was genuine. “Clara, it’s good to see you.”
She touched a gloved finger to his cheek. “John, when did you arrive? You look quite handsome with that tan.”
He brushed his lips across her cheek and inhaled her rose perfume. “Just this afternoon.”
“Fetch my parcels from the driver, would you? I am perishing for tea.” She swayed off toward the house without waiting for his answer.
John shrugged and did as he was told. Henry never begrudged her any of the funds she spent on her fripperies. Katherine might have paupered him in following her mother’s example. Carrying the parcels, he strode to the house, where he handed off the purchases to Molly, then followed the sound of voices to the parlor.
Miss Sullivan stood with her back to the wall and her hands clutched in front of her green dress. She faced his mother-in-law. Driscoll stood off to one side with Edward.
“Yes, ma’am,” she said. “I studied three years of Latin, though I don’t think Edward is quite ready for another language.”
“I agree, Miss Sullivan.” Clara made a sweeping survey of the younger woman. “Your dress is quite well made. Where did you find it?”
“I made it, ma’am.”
“How refreshing to find such an industrious young woman. How did you learn to sew such a stylish garment?” Clara stepped nearer and examined the waist of the dress. “The way the waist dips is very becoming. And the stitches are invisible.”
The young woman shifted, and the color leached from her cheeks. “My mother taught me to sew when I was a child. She thought the income would help the family, but I discovered a real love for textiles and design.”
To John the dress appeared ordinary, but then, what did he know of style? He noticed how long Miss Sullivan’s lashes were and averted his gaze. She was his employee.
Miss Sullivan touched Clara’s hand. “Are you feeling all right, Mrs. Eaton? A headache perhaps?”
Clara pressed her other hand hard on her forehead. “My head does ache. How did you know?”
“I saw it in your eyes. Let me rub it for you,” Miss Sullivan said. “I have some peppermint oil that will help ease the pain.”
“What a dear you are,” Clara said. “We have a few minutes before dinner, and anything you might do to help would be most welcome.”
“I’m sure it will comfort you,” Miss Sullivan said.
“Over our meal I wish to know more about your dressmaking skills. I’m planning a ball for Henry’s birthday in two weeks, and I must have a new dress. I have an idea in my mind’s eye, and perhaps you can bring it to life.”
“I’ll be happy to do whatever I can, Mrs. Eaton,” Miss Sullivan said. “But I need to start immediately if I’m to have time to complete it.”
John glanced at the young woman, then at his mother-in-law. Both of them were smiling. “What about Edward?” he asked. “Miss Sullivan was hired to teach my son.”
Clara tapped her closed fan on her son-in-law’s arm. “Don’t be such a stickler, John. I’ll make sure my dress doesn’t cut into Edward’s lesson time. Come along, my dear. Get your oil, and meet me in my salon.”
John’s mouth dropped as Clara took Addie’s arm and escorted her out of the room. He’d never known the older woman to bother with those she deemed beneath her. After a falling-out with Walter over the young man’s shenanigans of drinking and gambling, their father had bequeathed to her one of the most lucrative logging operations in the West. She seldom let anyone forget that she came from power and money. She must have been inordinately impressed with Miss Sullivan.
He called Yvonne and had her take Edward for his meal. When the boy protested, John stepped to the front door and called the dog in. Gideon’s nails clicked across the wood floor, then he went up the stairs after the boy and his nurse, and John made his way to the dining room, where he found Walter pouring himself a glass of claret.
Walter set the decanter back onto the sideboard. “I hope Miss Sullivan is to your satisfaction.”
“She appears competent.” John noticed Walter’s sling. “You never mentioned what you did to your arm.”
“I sprained it in a fall down some steps. Near Crescent City. I shall dispense with the sling in a day or two.” Walter turned to pour another glass of claret. “Miss Sullivan is a lovely girl, is she not? Edward is crazy about her dog. Hauling all her books here nearly broke my back.”
John grinned. “I doubt you carried them yourself with your injury.”
Walter smiled back. “You caught me. She’s quite the scholar though.” He went to his place at the table as the ladies joined them.
Clara seated Miss Sullivan beside John. The young woman’s eyes took in the gleaming silverware and china, then the napkin ring holding the linen. She’d likely never seen a place set with twenty-four pieces of silverware. She bowed her head and closed her eyes. Her lips moved. Was she praying? The rest of the family gave her but momentary notice, then turned back to their plates. When she raised her head, she kept her hands in her lap. John nudged her discreetly, then slipped the ring off the napkin and placed it in his lap. A faint smile curved her lips, and she imitated his action. When the servants brought in the first course of raw oysters, he selected the proper fork.
She took only one oyster from the footman’s tray, and he noticed her pale when she managed to gulp it down. “It’s not my favorite either,” he whispered. “But soup is coming too.”
Henry appeared not to have noticed Miss Sullivan’s discomfort. “I stole my cook from the Vanderbilts,” he said. “I went to one of their parties, and after dinner, I slipped back to the kitchen and promised Mrs. Biddle double the salary and her own house on the grounds. She’s been with us for three years.”
John had never heard the story, but he could well believe it. When the footman brought the next dish, broiled salmon, he again deliberately selected the fish fork. Miss Sullivan was a quick study and selected the proper one as well. She took a larger portion of the fish from the tray and ate daintily as the conversation flowed about his new assignment at the base and the places he’d been with the navy. By the time the spring chicken arrived, she barely picked at the meat with the proper fork. At the salad course, she managed only a few bites, though he hid a smile as he noticed how quickly the bonbons disappeared when the footman brought them around.
All through the meal, Walter kept a sharp eye on Miss Sullivan. The longer the meal went on, the more his attention irritated John. Walter was much too old for an innocent girl like the new governess. John sprang to his feet when the meal finally came to a close two hours later.
Miss Sullivan rose as well. “Thank you for a wonderful meal, Mrs. Eaton,” she said. “I’m blessed and honored to be here with you.”
Clara colored. “What a lovely thing to say, Adeline. We shall enjoy having you join us at every meal.”
How did Miss Sullivan do it? Any other governess would have been ignored at the end of the table. She drew everyone with her charm and naiveté. He found he didn’t mind the thought of staying at the manor for the next three weeks.