beg your pardon for that,” he offered stiffly. “I regret it extremely.”
“Well, that’s something, anyway,” Cecilia allowed, but twin spots of angry color burned in her cheeks, and she muttered something under her breath about arrogant marquesses.
Gideon shifted from one foot to the other, waiting for the rest of what was beginning to feel like a severe dressing down. He couldn’t quite believe it was being delivered by one of his housemaids, but perhaps it was just as well to let her have her say, and get it over with.
“There’s no reason I can see for you to have reacted with such violence when you found me in the marchioness’s bedchamber, despite your having forbidden me to enter it,” she said, her dark eyes glinting with temper. “But even that, Lord Darlington, isn’t the worst of your crimes.”
“It isn’t?” Gideon half-expected her to accuse him of murdering his wife and inflicting her ghost on the good citizens of Edenbridge, but she didn’t. Instead she pointed a shaking finger at the door through which Isabella had just gone.
“Your niece is fond of me, my lord. After only a few days, she’s fonder of me than of any other servant in this house, and yet you’d send me away in spite of it. Who, my lord, will take care of her in my place? Amy does her best, but she isn’t experienced with children. Isabella can sense it, and it makes her anxious.”
“How I care for my niece is none of your concern, but since you ask, I—”
“But I am concerned, my lord. I care for Isabella, too.”
“—but since you ask,” Gideon went on, speaking over her. “I came up here to see if you’d agree to—”
“I’m aware why you’re here, Lord Darlington.” She drew herself up to her full height and threw her shoulders back. “You’ve come to send me away, and I daresay I can’t stop you, but I was determined not to leave without unburdening myself first.”
He eyed her, a strange exhilaration pounding through him. There was no reason her show of defiance should please him, but it did. That is, no man cared for being scolded as if he were a naughty schoolboy—and by his housemaid, no less—but defiance was far better than having her shrink away from him in horror, or cower in his presence. “Very well. Have you quite finished?”
“I suppose. For now, at any rate. I’m certain I’ll think of something more I wished I’d said when I’m in the stagecoach on my way home.”
Gideon shook his head, amazed such a delicate, fawn-like young woman could deliver such a blistering scold, but he was beginning to see there was a great deal more to Cecilia Gilchrist than pretty eyes and a sweet singing voice. “No, you won’t.”
She shot him a resentful look. “Yes, I will. That’s always the way with a scold. The best parts never occur to one until it’s too late to say them.”
Gideon’s lips twitched. “No, Cecilia. What I mean is, it won’t be necessary for you to leave, after all. I’ve changed my mind. You may remain at Darlington Castle as Isabella’s nursemaid, provided you can promise you’ll follow my orders in the future. Do you suppose you can do that?”
For all her lecturing, Cecilia clearly hadn’t expected a reprieve. She stared at him for a moment, her mouth open. “Well, I…I can promise to try, at any rate.”
It wasn’t quite what Gideon was hoping for, but since he was no longer willing to dispense with her services, it would have to do. “Very well, then. Have you breakfasted?”
“No. I didn’t want to lose what time I had left with Isabella.”
“Go on down to the kitchens, then. I’m certain Cook can find something for you.” Gideon seated himself in the rocking chair. “I’ll tend to Isabella when she returns.”
Cecilia hesitated, biting her lip.
He raised an eyebrow at her. “You’ve no need to worry, Cecilia. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of my niece. This may surprise you, but she’s rather fond of me, as well.”
Chapter Nine
Mrs. Briggs was a true Englishwoman in that she believed a cup of tea could cure every ill. Cecilia used to think so, too, but today had been a long day, and after that dreadful scold she’d dealt Lord Darlington this morning, even the housekeeper’s bracing tea couldn’t chase away her anxiety.
She’d scolded a marquess. Her friends would have been thrilled at her cheek—particularly Georgiana, who delighted in a good scold—but every time she thought about