a problem in the making, a calamity waiting to happen.
“I can’t imagine why Lady Dunton would lie about it,” Haslemere replied with a shrug. “But it hardly matters, even if she did. You can’t afford to dispense with Cecilia, regardless.”
“Why not? She’s a dreadful housemaid.”
“Yes, so you’ve said. She’s too pretty. Wasn’t that your complaint?”
“She dropped the coal scuttle when she was making up my fire yesterday morning. It shocked the life of out of me. I thought the ceiling had collapsed.” Gideon stabbed a piece of toast with his knife under the pretense of buttering it. He was a devil for saying it, given it was partly his fault she’d dropped that coal scuttle, but it was the only excuse he could think of for dismissing her.
Haslemere stared at him. “That’s why you dismissed her? Well, I daresay she looked far too fetching with coal dust smudged on her pert little nose. Very right and proper, Darlington.”
Gideon snapped off a bite of toast with his teeth, wincing as the dry crumbs lodged in his throat. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t simply tell Haslemere he’d dismissed Cecilia because she’d entered Cassandra’s bedchamber. Haslemere would understand that, but for reasons he couldn’t explain even to himself, he held his tongue.
“I don’t deny she’s pretty, Darlington, but she also happens to be an accomplished nursemaid, from what I hear. Mrs. Briggs and Amy are in raptures over her management of Isabella. It isn’t fair to them for you to dismiss her. They need the help.”
Gideon set his uneaten toast carefully on his plate, fighting off a pang of guilt. “How is it, Haslemere, you always know so much about what’s happening in my house?”
“Ah, now there’s a question. I’ll leave you to answer it for yourself, but if you won’t take my word for it, then ask your housekeeper her opinion on the matter. Mrs. Briggs and Amy say Cecilia has a way with children.”
Gideon huffed. Of course she did, because it was too much to ask Cecilia to be impatient and short-tempered with Isabella, and thus easily dispensed with. It would have been a damn sight simpler that way, but no, she had to be pleasant and cheerful and win everyone over after a single day here.
“According to Mrs. Briggs, she’s just what one wishes for in a nursemaid.” Haslemere dropped another lump of sugar into his teacup, studying Gideon as he stirred. “She has the patience of a saint, and a sincere affection for Isabella.”
Gideon pushed his plate away, his appetite deserting him. Nothing was more important to him than Isabella’s well-being. If Cecilia made his niece happy, what was left to say?
“You still haven’t found a replacement for the last nursemaid, I take it? The thief—what was her name again? Mrs. Vermin, wasn’t it?”
“It was Vernon, not—”
“I shudder to think what sort of woman you’ll have to settle for if you dismiss Cecilia.” Haslemere let out a dramatic sigh.
Gideon shuddered to think what could happen if he didn’t dismiss her. He grimaced at the memory of the incident last night, of the horror on Cecilia’s face, the way she’d frozen with terror when he grabbed her.
But even that paled in comparison to the tension between them in his study afterward. He’d touched her. He hadn’t meant to, but even now he could recall with perfect clarity the feel of her smooth skin under his fingertips. There was no telling what might happen next, or how he’d react to it. Darlington Castle simply wasn’t a safe place for an unpredictable young woman like Cecilia Gilchrist.
He wasn’t safe—
“You’ll end up with the worst of the lot. Worse than Mrs. Vermin, even, and she was a wretched old thing.” Haslemere’s tone was dark. “You could settle for Amy, but the girl’s as jumpy as a cat with Isabella. Have you tried the scullery maid? Perhaps she’d make a suitable nurse.”
Gideon rolled his eyes. “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”
Haslemere’s spoon landed in his saucer with a clatter. “If you’re determined to dismiss Cecilia, at least you should send a footman to attend her to the stagecoach, Darlington. It’s the proper, gentlemanly thing to do.”
Gideon pushed his chair back from the table, a sigh on his lips. He’d spent a good deal of time staring out his study window after Cecilia left last night, cringing as he replayed the events of the evening in his mind. A gentleman didn’t manhandle a lady, no matter the circumstances. He’d behaved like a blackguard, and it