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  Her thoughts returned to Richard Graham. She would have liked to see him again but, even if that were possible socially, it couldn’t happen. He lived in England and she was about to go back to America.

  Chapter 2

  On her visit to Lady Wheatly a few days later, Beth rode to the mansion in one of their automobiles, which Lady Wheatly still called a “carriage.” Beth had been there a few times before, the first being when she applied for the position of governess to Penelope and Charles, then five and three years of age. At the interview she’d been terribly nervous, but it ended with the thrill of being chosen to accompany the family during their voyage to New York and their lengthy sojourn in that city.

  Lord Wheatly planned to establish a branch of his British textile company in America. However, he’d apparently recognized that such a venture would require extra time. After all, Beth reasoned, he would be in a different country, working with strangers. He had no doubt elected to bring his family with him for however long it might take rather than return to London too soon, or too frequently, because he missed them.

  Now that the subsidiary was doing well and little Charles was ready to start school, Lord Wheatly obviously preferred to resume his life in his beloved England.

  Her duties as governess finished, Beth expected to return home, but Lady Wheatly had insisted that, after she enjoyed a vacation and an opportunity to visit her own family, she return to New York for a month or two. Besides, as she had explained to Beth only the week before they had boarded the ship home, Lady Wheatly, for the sake of her children, absolutely required the presence of their governess on the return crossing.

  When the automobile arrived in front of the house, Beth exited and mounted the steps. The door already stood open. She saw the same butler she’d met on previous visits. He nodded, as if recognizing her as well, and ushered her across the wide entry hall and into the spacious sitting room.

  Lady Wheatly, seated in a chair, extended her hand. “Ah, here you are, my dear.” She gestured to a chair near her own. As always, she looked elegant in a well-fitting rose-colored gown, and well-groomed, every dark hair in place.

  “Thank you, M’Lady.” Beth sat down.

  “My husband will be here shortly, but, meanwhile, I would like to discuss a few things about the New York house with you.”

  “Of course.”

  “Some tea?”

  “Thank you. I’d like that very much.”

  Lady Wheatly reached toward the table at her side and poured tea into two cups. “Milk, sugar?”

  “No, thank you.”

  After adding both to her own tea, Lady Wheatly took a sip, replaced her cup and saucer on the table, and picked up a small silver pencil and notepad.

  “First, of course, is the matter of the items I believe should be placed in storage. My secretary will provide you with a list before you leave today.”

  “I see.”

  “We have already made arrangements with the storage company, and they will remove the items, pack them and store them. Monthly bills will be sent directly to us and, in turn, we will arrange for them to be paid from our New York banking account.”

  She paused. “Your responsibility in this matter is simply to arrange for the day the workmen should arrive to do the packing and oversee it. Make certain nothing is overlooked.”

  “I understand.”

  Lady Wheatly looked up at Beth and smiled. “As usual, your superior organizational skills will be most appreciated.”

  “Thank you.”

  “As for the rental of the house itself, the leasing company will find proper tenants. They will, of course, wish to show the property. You will arrange for the dates and times for those visits and accompany the agents and their clients during their perusal.”

  “The leasing agent will keep you informed, as well?” Beth asked.

  “Only when a suitable offer is made. Actually, they will communicate with my husband.” She glanced at her notepad and continued.

  “As soon as you know the date on which the tenants will move into the house, you will make arrangements to return home. Payment for your passage will be handled by my husband’s New York office.”

  “I’m very grateful for this opportunity to be of help to you again, M’Lady.” She paused. “However, I wonder why you didn’t arrange for someone in New York to handle these matters. I imagine it would be much less costly.”

  Lady Wheatly leaned closer and spoke in a softer tone.

  “I expect another person might have done so, but I’m ... well, I prefer to deal with people I understand. English people, like you, for example, people I feel I can trust.”

  “No doubt during these past few years you met many Americans whom you came to trust.”

  “The upper classes, yes, but servants and other workers might not be so ...” She let her voice trail off, as if Beth would understand her meaning.

  Beth did. “I shall do my best.”

  “Excellent.” Lady Wheatly smiled again, returned her notebook and pencil to the table and resumed drinking her tea. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed your presence in our home. Charles and Penelope adore you and, were it not that our children must now go to public school, I would most certainly keep you on.”

  She lifted her shoulders briefly. “As for the cost, I hope you understand, my dear, that, inasmuch as you will be traveling alone, with no duties to occupy you on board, I have arranged for you to travel to New York and back in second class, rather than first.”

  “You’re most generous. I’m told second class on the White Star’s new ship is similar to first on other vessels.”

  “It is our pleasure.”

  Beth set down her teacup. “If there’s nothing more ...”

  “Don’t go. As I said before, my husband will be joining us shortly. I believe he has something to say to you.”

  Although she kept her expression carefully blank, Beth wondered what Lord Wheatly could possibly have to add to his wife’s careful instructions.

  Lady Wheatly continued. “And, there is one other thing. My secretary will give you some letters I’ve composed. They are letters of recommendation should you care to look for another position as governess upon your return.”

  “That’s very considerate of you, and I’m most grateful.”

  She said no more, as Lord Wheatly entered the room. He was not alone. Richard Graham entered behind him.

  “Miss Shallcross.” Wheatly came toward her. “Don’t get up. We shall draw our chairs near. You remember Mr. Graham, of course.”

  Beth had to swallow before she could answer. “Yes, sir.” The sight of the handsome though arrogant man she’d met on the dock made her uncomfortable.

  “Mr. Graham and I have been discussing a matter and now we would like your opinion.”

  “My opinion?” Beth said in an oddly high-pitched voice. What on earth could they want her opinion about?

  Lord Wheatly sat well back in the seat he’d chosen, placed his elbows on the chair arms and made a tent of his fingers. “Mr. Graham, as you may know, is an associate of my company here in London, and I have just persuaded him to take a similar position in my New York branch.”

  Lord Wheatly paused, so Graham interjected, “Miss Shallcross and I spoke for only a few minutes in Southampton the other day. We did not exchange personal information, other than the fact we were both acquainted with you and Lady Wheatly.”

  “I see. Then, perhaps, if you don’t mind, you could tell Miss Shallcross about our decision.”

  “If you wish.” He looked over at Beth. “I, too, am returning to New York. I’m an American, but I’ve been living in England for several years.” He paused as if weighing his next words, choosing what information he wanted to impart.

  He rose from his seat and faced her. “I was fortunate to find a good position in this country with Lord Wheatly’s firm and even more fortunate now that he wants me to continue in his employ in New York.”

  Beth looked fr
om one man to the other, wondering which of them would reveal what they wanted her opinion about and why.

  “Do go on,” Wheatly said to Graham.

  He cleared his throat. “While living here in England, I married a young lady and we have a child, a little girl.” Another pause, this one accompanied by a swipe of his hand across his thick, dark hair.

  Beth wondered if his recitation was somehow emotional for him. His next words revealed she was right.

  “My wife has … passed away, and during the crossing to New York, I shall need someone to look after my child. After we arrive in New York, I shall be fully employed during the day and so will continue to need help for a time.”

  The long speech had apparently been difficult. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his brow before continuing.

  “Since you are a trained governess—and Lady Wheatly has spoken so highly of your skills—she, they, we—decided to ask if you would be willing to accept that position.” Finished at last, he sat down.

  So the proposition they were offering involved another job as governess, a career she did not wish to continue. As she’d told her parents, she wanted to get away from the roles of servant and teacher and become a typist in a business office.

  “If you need to think this over, I quite understand.” Graham seemed embarrassed by the favor he had asked, perhaps because of their initial encounter, before he’d discovered her lowly station.

  Her mind sorted through ways to turn him down gracefully. The strained silence stretched.

  “The offer is perfect for her,” Lord Wheatly said to his wife, as if Beth weren’t in the room, as if, in fact, Lady Wheatly was only now learning of the plan. “I believe you have already written letters of recommendation.”

  His wife’s face had turned a trifle pink. “But, my dear,” she protested, “Beth is returning home after she handles the matter of renting our New York house.”

  Neither Lord nor Lady Wheatly knew she no longer wanted to continue as a governess, for Beth had never confided her plans about the typewriting lessons to anyone but her parents. Not even to her sisters and brothers, who would probably laugh at her idea.

  “You’re in favor of the proposal, are you not, my dear?” Wheatly asked his wife.

  A forced smile crossed Lady Wheatly’s closed lips.

  Lord Wheatly spoke to Beth again. “In addition, as you will act as governess on the voyage and for as long as you’re needed in New York, we will certainly see that you are accommodated in first class on the ship and will occupy your usual room in our house in New York.”

  In the silence that followed, Graham spoke up again. “Perhaps Miss Shallcross has already made other plans.”

  Bless the man. He was clairvoyant. But should she refuse? How would that look to the Wheatlys, the family that had already been more than kind to her and would pay her way back to America besides? In first class, at that?

  “I do have relatives in America,” Graham said next. “I plan to try to persuade one of them to move to New York to help with my daughter. In any event, you need only keep the position for a short time, until I find someone else.”

  He looked at her expectantly, as if he, too, considered this a necessary arrangement, if only to make their hosts feel they’d done something admirable for two worthy, if not titled, people.

  Beth felt she ought to say something. “How old is your little girl?”

  “Three and a half.”

  Lord Wheatly gave her a broad smile. “The same age as Charles when you came to us.”

  “There is no one in your late wife’s family ... ?”

  “No one who wishes to travel to America at this time.”

  “And time is of the essence,” Lord Wheatly said. “We need him to sail as soon as possible. Since you’re going back now, you might as well sail together so that Richard will have the use of your services during the week’s crossing.”

  He made it sound like the most sensible thing to do, and Mr. Graham had said the position wouldn’t last long. If one of his very own relatives didn’t step forward to help with the child, he could hire another governess in New York. She’d met several during her three years in the post whom she could recommend. As an American, he’d have no qualms about hiring a non-English person.

  But, even so, if she agreed, there would be no leisurely Atlantic crossing after all. No relaxing on deck chairs during the afternoons, no dining with adults in the evenings, and no opportunity for new friendships. Still, the offer was extremely generous, and she couldn’t refuse without seeming ungrateful.

  “Very well,” she said at last.

  Upon first meeting Richard Graham, she’d experienced a sudden, if brief, flash of intuition that he might wish to become a suitor. Now she was destined to be his employee. No, worse, his servant.

  She’d be forced to work with a man who considered her beneath him, who hadn’t even wanted to share a limousine ride from the dock. A grieving widower, as well. And she would be saddled with a no-doubt devastated little girl who’d lost her mother. So much for her new life.

  * * *

  Richard Graham paced the floor of the downstairs sitting room, waiting for Beth Shallcross’s arrival. Rather than riding in his motorcar for her visit to his home on Eaton Place, she told him she’d prefer to take a taxi. When they were leaving the Wheatlys’ home the previous day, he’d proposed bringing his daughter for a visit to her home so that they could become acquainted before the sailing, but she’d suggested that the introduction might be better in the child’s own home. Of course, she was right.

  Not having a butler—only a woman who cleaned and cooked for him—Graham opened the door for her himself, almost as soon as she pressed the bell.

  “Miss Shallcross. Do come in.” He ushered her into the sitting room and gestured toward a chair. After she was seated, he took his place across from her.

  He sat in another chair but then fell silent, unable to think of anything but how beautiful the young woman looked, her slender figure clothed in a lovely gown of pale green. She wore a fetching hat that concealed most of her hair. What he could still see was a honey-like shade of blonde.

  She spoke first in the growing silence. “May I offer my condolences on the passing of your wife?”

  “Thank you.”

  “It must be very difficult for you to raise a child all alone, and especially to move her from her home in England to a new one in the United States. Two such drastic occurrences are hard on a child.”

  Puzzled, Graham thought for a moment. “Thank you, but perhaps I should explain.” He paused. “You see, my wife died shortly after Kathleen was born.”

  “Oh, I am sorry,” she said quickly.

  “So Kathleen—my daughter, that is—never knew her.” Another pause. “And it has been more than three years.” He swallowed before continuing. “Less than five days after giving birth to Kathleen, my wife contracted influenza, which proved fatal.”

  After a pause of her own, Beth responded. “What a pity. I’ve heard the disease is becoming more prevalent.”

  “Yes.” His mind reverted back to those agonizing days of his wife’s illness. To his relief, such memories didn’t return often.

  She continued. “Although your wife’s untimely death was indeed tragic, I can see that, in some ways, it might have been easier for your child.”

  “Yes, it has proved so.” He leaned toward her as he spoke. “I’ve shown Kathleen pictures of her mother, of course, and her aunts have told her lovely stories, even that she’ll see her mother some day in heaven.”

  “I see.”

  “Her two aunts have been most generous with their time and attention to Kathleen. I don’t know how I should have coped without them.”

  “That was very fortunate for you.”

  “And their children—Kathleen’s cousins—have been her playmates, so she has enjoyed the closeness of loving relatives all around her.”

  “How nice for her.”

 
He rose and walked across the room, considering both Miss Shallcross’s words and the tone of her voice. When he’d met her on the dock at Southampton, she’d seemed so charming, so open and friendly. Now—in fact, ever since Lord and Lady Wheatly had approached them, as well as in their home the day before—she’d changed. Today, she seemed cool and distant. Polite, of course, but nothing more.

  He glanced toward her, carefully choosing his next words. “As a woman, and a governess at that, you may think it odd I would want to remove my child from her pleasant surroundings and loving relatives in order to return to the United States.”

  “Not at all. We all make choices in our lives which appear right to us at the time.”

  “Exactly. As I said, I’m most grateful that my late wife’s family has rallied around me and been so supportive, but Kathleen is my child and I need to be responsible for her.”

  “Naturally, you must take her with you when you go to New York.”

  He returned to his chair and pulled it closer. “I’m so pleased you understand. Lord Wheatly’s offer is a generous one which no one could rightfully refuse, even if he didn’t wish to live in America for the rest of his life. As I do.”

  Her expression softened. “I can certainly understand your wish to do so. As a matter of fact, I think I’d like to live in America for the rest of my life, and I was born in England.”

  Her sudden smile disappeared almost at once and a guarded look returned to her face. He contemplated her statement only briefly, then spoke softly, confidentially.

  “Perhaps I ought not to say it, but I have another reason for wanting to make this important change. In fact, I believe I ought to explain something to you.”

  She looked attentive, but still cool, and didn’t answer. So much for trying to reconnect with the charming person he’d rescued from the lorry driver.

  “You see, Lady Wheatly is also a relative of my late wife. When I took the position in Lord Wheatly’s company, she arranged for my wife and me to meet and seemed overjoyed when her matchmaking resulted in our marriage. She, as well as my late wife’s two sisters, have been—shall we say—inordinately involved in my daughter’s life.”