was demure and soft spoken, she was kind and talented at the pianoforte, and she was completely and utterly boring. Scowling at that last admission, I took another drink. It was an unfair description that she had done nothing to deserve. Yet, my poor decision to call upon Miss Bathurst this morning had hindered my thinking. That was the only way to explain it.
If Miriam Bathurst wasn’t so, so, bold, and so, confident, and… so damn beautiful, it would be easier for a man to forget her when he left her presence. However, she made it damn well impossible with her eyes that shown a depth most ladies her age would never fathom. She would make a poor countess and wife. There was not one ounce of meekness in her gaze. She was fascinating and intelligent. The life I would provide would bore her and Emma needed a mother to be a proper role model, so she could ease into this society without question or speculation.
The door behind me opened and a squeal erupted before a flash of blue passed beside me to hide behind the heavy drapes. I stared a moment, wondering if I should ask or just wait on Alice to arrive. She wouldn’t be far behind. I took another drink of the brandy then sat my glass down on the desk beside me, just as Alice entered the room.
The exasperated look on her face as she scanned the area then looked at me was clear. Emma was causing trouble. Another reason my pursuit of a wife needed to speed up and my thoughts about Miss Bathurst were wasting my time.
“Where is she?” Alice asked, placing a hand on her hip and scowling at me as if I had been the one to hide her. I motioned toward the drapes just as a small giggle came from them.
“Miss Emma, come out from behind those drapes at once!” Alice demanded. I wondered what the child had done now. It looked as if it were bad. Alice was not happy, but then she was not a happy person.
“No!” Emma shouted, but it was muffled from the thick fabric in front of her.
Alice sighed in frustration. “You were to be writing your name.”
“I don’t like writing. Tis boring,” Emma shot back at her Governess. “I want to wash my baby.”
“You’ve washed more than your baby. Come out from there so we can change your clothing. You are completely and utterly soaked.”
“You’ll make me write my name more!”
Alice shot me a look that was clear she required help.
I walked over to the drapes and pulled back the panel and my little trouble-maker was hiding behind. Emma stood there shivering slightly in a damp blue dress with her blonde hair in wet ringlets around her face. “What have we here? Did you decide to take a bath in your clothing?” I asked her.
She shook her head and her bottom lip quivered slightly. “No-oo-o” she said chattering her teeth. “I was washing May and I fell into the ba-ba--bath. It wasn’t o-o-on purpose.”
“I should hope not. It would be silly to bathe with your dress on then dart around wet and hide behind drapes. Why was there water still in the bath?” I asked, wondering who had been remiss at their duties.
Emma scrunched her nose at me then. “I had it drawn for May,” she admitted.
“I see.” I didn’t ask who had drawn a bath for a doll for I had a feeling Emma wouldn’t rat on them. I respected that in her. I held out my hand to her. “Come now, you need to go get on dry clothing and dry your hair before you catch cold.”
Emma leaned to the side and peeked around me. “She will make me write my name some more,” Emma said as if this were a grave issue meant to be dealt with.
“I should hope so. It would be a terrible thing for a young lady not to be able to write her own name.”
Emma looked up at me then. “Truly?”
I nodded. “Every princess I know can write her name brilliantly.”
Emma considered that a moment then sighed in defeat. “Very well,” she said then walked around me toward Alice. “Come, Alice. Let’s get me dry.”
Alice looked relieved and gave me a nod of thanks.
“Will you tell me who drew the bath for you?” Alice asked her then.
Emma shook her head no. “I am afraid not, Alice.”
“Of course not,” Alice replied sourly.
I grinned then as they walked from the