Winter Is Past. Ruth Morren Axtell
gentleman in uniform. Colonel Ballyworth, she remembered, was his name.
Just as their glances met, she saw his mouth move, but she couldn’t hear his words above the clatter as the footmen began removing the soup bowls and all the dishes and silverware around and under them, whether used or not. She could only smile at him while waiting for the noise to subside again.
A new set of plates was set before the guests and the next cover brought in. Althea looked and saw with satisfaction that the two kinds of fish arrived with their accompanying sauces and vegetables. Thus far, everything was going according to schedule.
“I beg your pardon, Colonel Ballyworth,” she said to the gentleman who had addressed her earlier. “I didn’t hear what you said a moment ago.”
“Quite all right, m’dear.” He took a hearty bite of sole. “I was just inquiring if you weren’t the Marquess of Caulfield’s ward?”
She smiled in surprise. “Yes, I am. Do you know Lord Caulfield?”
“Oh, my, yes. Since we were boys. How is Caulfield? He doesn’t come up to London much anymore, does he?”
“No. He prefers the quiet country life in Hertfordshire.”
Colonel Ballyworth chuckled. “He must have changed a lot since I last saw him. He was one of the leading rakes in his day.”
“He has…mellowed somewhat since then, I believe. Now that he is awaiting the arrival of his first grandchild, he doesn’t like to be away from Pembroke Park.”
“Oh, no, I should think not.” Colonel Ballyworth took a forkful of potatoes before turning to her once again. “And how are you, m’dear? I recall you during your London Season.”
Her eyes widened. “You do?”
He chuckled at her amazement. “Quiet little thing, you were. Didn’t think anyone noticed you, did you.”
“That was quite some time ago. I’m certainly flattered you remember me.”
“Oh, I never forget a face. Can’t always come up with the right name, but never forget a face. Must say you look much prettier now than you did then.”
She blushed. “I—I thank you.”
“Oh, I’m not saying that you weren’t an attractive thing then. Excuse my saying so, but at my age, you earn the right to speak your mind, and I always like a pretty face. You were so pale and timid back then that I guess a body wouldn’t notice you much, sitting at the back of the room. But, my dear, when you walked into the room tonight, I saw more than one gentleman stand at attention.”
She said nothing, but her glance strayed back down the length of the table. Had her employer noticed that she wore something other than her “gray governess garb”? She doubted it, watching his absorption with his immediate dinner companions.
The colonel’s voice cut into her thoughts. “Excuse my asking, but what’s your connection to Aguilar?”
She did not hesitate. “I am nurse—or perhaps I should say governess—” she remembered her correct title “—to his young daughter, Rebecca.”
“Nurse-governess, eh?” He turned back to his plate and took a last bite of fish. “My, that was excellent. Not every cook knows how to prepare sole. I must send her my compliments.”
Althea restrained a smile.
“Nurse-governess, eh?” he repeated. “I heard his little girl was ailing. What a shame.” He shook his head, then took a sip of wine. “So, you were forced to seek employment. Pity you never married. Didn’t Caulfield settle anything on you? Never knew him to be niggardly.”
She shook her head. “My decision to enter my present employment did not have to do with my financial state. Lord Caulfield has always been most generous to me.”
He looked more puzzled than ever. “I can’t understand why some young gent didn’t grab you up then. What’s got into them nowadays? No starch in ’em. It’s all in their shirt points, I guess. Now, in my day—”
Althea laughed out loud. “Colonel Ballyworth, please, I’m sure the fault was not in the young gentlemen who were presented to me. As you pointed out, I was a quiet thing who preferred sitting in the background.”
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