The Nanny and the Millionaire. Линда Гуднайт
narrow face blossomed with colour. ‘That’s okay, love. I reckon you need a little TLC. Well,’ she said brightly, moving to the door, ‘I’ll leave you to settle in. Lunch at one. You might want to find young Riley before then. I haven’t heard any screeches, I have to admit I was rather expecting a few, so the children must be getting on, or Riley can’t find her. She has a hundred hiding places.’
‘Don’t worry, Olly.’ Marissa went to the window, looking out. ‘I’ll go find them in a minute or two. Riley is an amazing little person. Georgia will find it hard to quarrel with him.’
Olly’s gaze was sceptical. ‘I hate to say it, but Georgy could quarrel with a stone. She’s getting too much for me and I do my best, but Georgy is as wilfully moody as her mother.’
Left alone Marissa had a quick wash to freshen up. She changed her striped shirt for a nicer one, an embroidered T-shirt in the shade of red that suited her colouring so well. That done, she brushed out her hair, then took the time to put their things away. Some of the clothes needed ironing. Marj had let her use the washing machine and the dryer at the pub, but some things demanded ironing to look good.
She was very happy with their rooms. They were generously sized, both with queen-size beds and comfortable armchairs. Above her bed was a grouping of botanical prints in handsome gold frames; above Riley’s a collection of prints of thoroughbreds. He would love those. It was accommodation any governess used to a shoe box and blank walls would die for.
She should have asked where Georgia’s bedroom was but she would find out soon enough. From all accounts six-year-old Georgia was a real handful with all attempts at discipline washing off her like water. She had also learned Georgia had a mercurial personality like her mother. The mother who had abandoned her as Riley’s mother had abandoned him. That was one big thing they would have in common, although Riley had come to terms with his mother’s abandonment while Georgia sounded like she was furious about it. Probably all the tantrums were a cry for attention. Holt McMaster might be doing his level best for her but he didn’t particularly sound the doting dad. She disapproved of that. Georgia would need an awful lot of reassurance.
Time to go find them! Both children would need to wash their hands for lunch. She wondered what Aunt Lois would be like. A ‘wilfully moody’ woman like her sister? Marissa hoped not. It was good to know Riley would respect Holt’s admonition not to go outside the home compound. Riley was an obedient child, a child of light.
Marissa had just reached the foot of the staircase when a young woman entered through the front door.
When she caught sight of Marissa she frowned heavily, looking Marissa up and down in hostile inquiry. ‘Who are you?’ There was a snap in her voice like a released elastic band.
Ah, another rambunctious one! ‘I’m Marissa Devlin,’ Marissa introduced herself as pleasantly as she could. ‘Mr McMaster has hired me as the new governess.’
‘He’s what?’
It sounded as if Aunt Lois couldn’t believe her ears. ‘I’m Georgia’s new governess,’ Marissa repeated, her euphoric mood flattened in a second. ‘And you would be Georgia’s Aunt Lois?’
The haughty young woman held up a staying hand ‘Just one moment. This is very difficult for me to take in. I had breakfast with Holt this very morning. He said nothing whatsoever about hiring a governess.’
Had he, Marissa had no doubt, Aunt Lois would immediately have talked him out of it. She was an attractive woman. It was her manner that wasn’t. Her thick blond hair fell in a straight pageboy around a sharp featured but interesting face. She was wearing expensive riding clothes, cream silk shirt, fawn jodhpurs and burnished riding boots. She was fashionably bone thin, maybe a borderline anorexic.
Marissa hastened to placate this woman who was fairly sizzling with indignation. ‘Mr McMaster wouldn’t have known about me then. We met in Ransom. I was looking for work as a governess. He took me on.’
‘What were you doing in Ransom? What are you doing out West anyway? What exactly are your qualifications? Who would know if you’re to be believed or not? I just don’t understand this.’ Aunt Lois bit her lip. ‘Georgia has been doing extremely well under my tutelage.’
‘I’m sure that’s true—’ Marissa kept up her valiant attempt at conciliation ‘—but Mr McMaster did say you had your own life in Sydney.’
Aunt Lois looked like she might go after Holt that very minute and kill him.
‘If you do have qualifications, I would very much like to see them.’
‘Mr McMaster has seen them,’ Marissa told her, not at all intimidated by the other woman, though clearly she was meant to be. Even so, she was unhappy their meeting was going so badly.
Out in the driveway, the sound of a little girl yelling at the top of her voice cut through the golden stillness. It wasn’t an angry yell or a frightened yell. To Marissa’s trained ears, it sounded more like high excitement, fast getting out of control. Next came the sound of a dog barking. Marissa would know that bark anywhere. It was Dusty. Why wasn’t he tied up? No way was Aunt Lois going to tolerate Dusty.
‘What is going on?’ Aunt Lois demanded in furious amazement. She turned to go back onto the verandah only a sandy headed little girl came flying up the steps with a mad urgency, followed by a worried looking Riley and an overexcited Dusty in full bound.
Aunt Lois screamed.
‘Riley, Dusty!’ Marissa tried for the voice of authority but couldn’t get either’s attention. Certainly not Georgia’s. In fact she nearly got knocked down as the little girl—the heralded terror— tore into the entrance hall followed up by the extremely frisky Dusty, his tongue lolling, his strongly muscled body almost rigid with excitement, just loving the kids and the game.
Marissa was horrified, aghast at what damage might be done. Riley was trying desperately to control his beloved pet without a great deal of success. Her own commands were equally ineffectual. What a start! The odds were she would finish the day out of a job.
‘Sit!’ A man’s voice cracked like a whip.
Dusty dropped on all fours, his expression previously so joyful, unmistakably shame faced. He knew he had done wrong.
Marissa thought she would be pleased to sit, too, her legs were so wobbly.
‘He’s a lovely dog, isn’t he?’ Georgia, who enjoyed nothing better than giving everyone a good fright, caught sight of her father and ran to him. ‘His name is Dusty.’
Holt McMaster placed a restraining hand on her head. ‘I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting Dusty, thank you, Georgy. Dusty is not, I repeat, not to come into the house. He can only come as far as the verandah. Have you got that, Riley?’ He glanced at Riley who like Dusty was looking chastened.
‘Yes, sir. I’m sorry he got so excited.’ Ever gallant, Riley didn’t add it was mainly because of Georgia’s frenzied behaviour.
‘What is going on here, Holt?’ Aunt Lois, rubbing furiously at her temple, was looking at him in alarm. ‘That ugly brute almost knocked me down.’
‘Excuse me, he’s lovely!’ Georgia now full of truculence bellowed, a spindly little girl with a big voice. One foot kicked out in a temper, but mercifully didn’t connect with anything.
‘You’re a wild, wild child, completely undisciplined!’ Aunt Lois accused, on her own furious streak.
‘Riley, take Dusty outside,’ Marissa said quietly. ‘How did he get here anyway?’
‘Bart must have dropped him off.’ Holt McMaster came up with the explanation.
One could scarcely expect a cattle baron used to hazards and even life threatening situations on a daily basis to take a small domestic incident too seriously.
‘Take