Gossamer

  “Maybe so,” James agreed, “but what about spilled juice and milk and porridge? And buttery handprints and splotches of jam?”

  “Surely, you’re exaggerating.”

  “You saw me yesterday,” James reminded her. “Did I look as if I were exaggerating?”

  “That was one day out of many,” Elizabeth told him. “And you said yourself that you’d had a little difficulty getting away on time because you were without a governess. But you’re a successful businessman, and I’m willing to bet your morning routine usually goes as smooth as clockwork.” She recalled her experience as a child sitting fully dressed beside her brother and father at the breakfast table every morning while her mother and grandmother dined on trays in their bedrooms. In a businessman’s world everything ran according to schedule. Owen’s tutor escorted them downstairs and stayed to report her younger brother’s progress in mathematics and economics while her father read the morning financial pages and drank exactly one and one-half cups of coffee. At precisely eight o’clock her father rose from the table, checked the time on his watch against the time of the casement clock in the hall, instructed Elizabeth to say good-bye to Owen and Mr. Frederick, then walked with her out the front door and down the street to Lady Wimbley’s Female Academy two blocks away from the bank. He never asked about her progress at school, never asked anything at all, and Elizabeth was expected never to volunteer information or start a conversation on her own. She was a girl and girls were pretty decorations meant to be seen, never heard.

  “My schedule ran as smooth as clockwork before I had the Treasures,” James told her. “Now I’ve learned to make allowances. Every morning brings a new adventure.”

  “At breakfast?” Elizabeth laughed at the idea.

  James raised an eyebrow at her charming, blissful naïveté. “My dear novice governess,” he said in a wise, patronizing tone. “You shouldn’t worry about whether your mode of dress is proper or improper, but if it will make you feel any better, I’ll have someone bring my dressing gown to the dining room so I can wear it over my suit at breakfast. In the meantime, I suggest you simply prepare yourself. Lesson number two, the Treasures’ breakfast adventure is about to begin.”

  Sixteen

  BREAKFAST WAS A bigger adventure than Elizabeth could ever have imagined. It bore absolutely no resemblance to the staid, proper mealtimes she had endured growing up. Breakfast at the Craig mansion was homey, cheerful, and at times, chaotic. Elizabeth soon learned that feeding a hungry newborn and three equally hungry, energetic, and demanding toddlers required the instigation of a battle plan that would impress a British army field marshal.

  Upon sitting down at the table to a dish of warm oatmeal, sweetened with applesauce and cream, that Mrs. G. had assured Elizabeth was Ruby’s favorite breakfast food, Ruby had decided she hated, not the meal, but the bowl it was served in and refused to eat until her porridge was transferred into another bowl. At last count, they had gone through three bowls with James finally dishing the current serving of oatmeal into a crystal sherbet glass that Elizabeth was certain would be sacrificed in a show of temper before the meal ended. Although James appeared to be surprised by Ruby’s oatmeal rebellion, Elizabeth was amazed at his seemingly unending patience. James seemed more than willing to allow Ruby to express her feelings as long as expressing her feelings didn’t include sweeping her bowls of porridge off the table and onto the floor. James had indulged Ruby’s whim, changing bowls three times, and still, he hadn’t once raised his voice in anger or lifted a hand to spank her or to send her away from the dining table. Her father hadn’t been as patient. He had insisted on excruciatingly correct table manners, and every little spill or clank of silver against china brought an instant rebuke.

  And while she admired his handling of the situation, Elizabeth couldn’t help wondering how much longer James would continue to be patient, how much longer he would accept Ruby’s behavior before he lost his temper. Especially since the normally easygoing Garnet and Emerald had decided to follow Ruby’s lead and had also joined the oatmeal revolt, insisting on crystal sherbet glasses as well, which upset Ruby even more because she apparently wanted to be the only one eating porridge off crystal.

  Happily feeding Diamond her bottle, Elizabeth watched as the battle of bowls continued into a second round.

  James Craig didn’t believe in the maxim that children should be seen and not heard. Nor did he believe in confining the children to the nursery for every meal. He liked sharing breakfast with his daughters. He enjoyed seeing their precious faces first thing in the morning—even if those faces were smeared with porridge and fruit compote. He supposed the aristocratic society in which he belonged considered his ideas low-class and foolish, maybe even radical, but he preferred to spend as much time with his children as possible, not shunt them off to the upper reaches of the nursery until they were considered old enough and civilized enough to be allowed to share mealtimes with adults. James didn’t mind the chaos of mealtimes with toddlers. He enjoyed them, especially breakfast because it gave him one last opportunity to be with his little family before he went out into the often hostile world of business.

  This morning was fairly typical of the way his mornings had gone for the past few days—with one exception. This morning Elizabeth Sadler, dressed in a nightgown and robe, sat at the dining room table sharing with him what he irreverently referred to as the breakfast adventure. James couldn’t begin to describe the feeling of contentment he felt when he gazed over the three older Treasures’ heads and watched Elizabeth feeding Diamond with a nursing bottle filled with goat’s milk. It was as if the huge hole Mei Ling had left in his heart had finally begun to heal.

  James tried to recall the last time he’d shared the breakfast table with anyone except the children, Mrs. G., or Will Keegan. Oh, he’d instituted the policy of sharing breakfast with the Treasures and three of the last four governesses, but unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to successfully enforce it. The former faro dealer and the former saloon girl he had first hired to act as governess to the Treasures had been in the habit of sleeping late—much too late to breakfast with him—and at the time, he’d needed them too badly to insist that they bring the girls downstairs for breakfast. And the Chinese laundress James had hired after the departure of the first two governesses had flatly refused to go against a lifetime of training and sit down at the same table with her male employer. And although the last governess had complied with his wishes, she had done so grudgingly, protesting all the while that children as young as Ruby, Garnet, and Emerald shouldn’t be allowed to eat with adults or express their likes or dislikes when it came to eating. She insisted that allowing them to do so was upsetting for the children and impossible for the adults.

  Now that she was gone, James was determined to prove her wrong. And he was going to use Elizabeth Sadler to help him. Starting today. And today was proving to be every bit as challenging as the day he had taken over as director of Craig Capital, Ltd. James wasn’t sure, but he thought that after privately sharing morning “coffee” together, Ruby was upset because he had allowed Elizabeth, Garnet, Emerald, and Diamond to intrude on their father-daughter early morning tea party by joining them at the dining table for breakfast.

  “No, Ruby,” he said softly but firmly as Ruby decided to carry out her earlier threat and sweep her sherbet dish full of oatmeal off the table and onto the floor. James put down the spoonful of oatmeal he was feeding Emerald and lifted Ruby’s sherbet dish up and out of her reach. “That’s enough.”

  “Don’t like!” Ruby announced.

  “Fine,” James said, “you don’t have to eat any more oatmeal.” He set her dish of porridge beside his cup and saucer. “Would you like to share my breakfast?” He glanced down at his plate of scrambled eggs and kippers. He scooped up a forkful of fluffy yellow eggs and held it out to her.

  “No!” Ruby pushed his fork away. “Taste bad! Want oapmeal!”

  “Oatmeal,” James corrected, automatically
emphasizing the t in oat. “All right.” He ate the forkful of scrambled eggs she pushed away, then picked up Ruby’s dish of oatmeal and set it before her.

  “No, that bowl!” she insisted.

  James fed Emerald another spoonful of oatmeal, took another quick bite of the excellent eggs and kippers on his plate, then pushed back his chair and got to his feet. “If you will excuse me for a moment,” he said to Elizabeth.

  “Certainly,” she answered, then held her breath, watching and waiting for the explosion of temper she knew was sure to come.

  James walked over to the breakfast buffet and surveyed it for a moment, then left the dining room. He returned a few minutes later carrying a sterling silver sugar basin shaped like a sea shell and lined with a pink cut glass dish, a green china egg cup, and a ruby red crackled glass candy dish in the shape of a grape leaf. James placed the ruby-red bowl in front of Ruby, then picked up the sherbet dish containing her oatmeal and scraped the contents into the candy dish. “Here you go, Ruby,” he said, making a big production of presenting her breakfast to her. “A ruby-red bowl fit for a queen.”

  Ruby squealed with glee.

  Anticipating disappointment on the part of Garnet and Emerald, he set the sterling silver sugar basin with the pink glass liner in front of Garnet and raked the oatmeal from her sherbet glass into the sugar basin. Then, he repeated the process with Emerald, using the green china egg cup as her porridge bowl. “There,” he announced when he’d finished, “you each have a beautiful and unique bowl from which to eat the delicious porridge Mrs. G. made for you.”

  “Not eat kips yeggs. Eat oapmeal, Daddy.” Garnet announced, testing the waters a bit. She dipped her curved child’s spoon into her oatmeal, then thrust it up in James’s direction.

  “Maybe that’s the problem,” Elizabeth ventured.

  James raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

  “Maybe their rebellion isn’t about their bowls, but what’s in them. Maybe they’ve wondered why you eat kippers and eggs when oatmeal’s supposed to be so delicious.”

  “You mean they expect me to eat porridge, too?”

  Elizabeth bit her bottom lip to keep from giggling at the horrified expression on James’s face as he stood gazing across the table at her. “It looks that way to me.”

  “But I haven’t eaten oatmeal since I was in short pants. Surely they don’t …”

  The giggles Elizabeth had been trying to suppress did escape her lips at the image of a grown-up James Cameron Craig eating oatmeal in short pants. “Why not? You expect them to eat it every morning. If it’s good enough for them …”

  James thought about it for a moment. Elizabeth was right. It was a bit hypocritical of him to expect the Treasures to eat the same breakfast of oatmeal every morning when he had a buffet of foods from which to choose. “All right,” he capitulated. “I can’t argue with all of you. You win. I’ll have oatmeal.” Before reseating himself at the table, James picked up his breakfast plate, carried it to the small table beside the buffet reserved for dirty dishes, and left it. Then he picked up a clean porridge bowl and …

  “Uh-hem,” Elizabeth loudly cleared her throat.

  James glanced back over his shoulder at her and seeing her knowing expression, replaced the bowl and picked up a cup and saucer in its place. He lifted the top from the chafing dish containing the oatmeal, set it aside, then filled the teacup with oatmeal. That done, he spooned a generous helping onto the matching saucer. “Just for that,” he said to Elizabeth, “we all eat oatmeal.”

  He walked back to the dining table and set the cup of oatmeal down on the table in front of his chair, then carried the saucer over to Elizabeth and placed it before her. “I was going to be gracious,” he added. “And allow you to select from the buffet, but as you so helpfully pointed out, if it isn’t fair for me to eat kippers and scrambled eggs in front of the Treasures when they eat oatmeal, it isn’t fair for their governess to eat kippers and eggs or sausage or ham or steak in front of them either.”

  “You’re too kind,” Elizabeth replied sweetly. Too sweetly.

  “Yes, I am,” James acknowledged, picking up a spoon and digging into his cupful of oatmeal. “Mmm,” he announced to the Treasures. “Delicious.”

  Elizabeth looked down at the baby she held. “Diamond’s finished her bottle. What should I do now?”

  James set his spoon aside. “Hand her to me and I’ll take care of her,” he suggested, reaching for the baby. “While you eat your porridge like a good little governess.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” Elizabeth eyed him warily. “You’re not going to get out of eating your porridge that easily. Just tell me what to do next and I’ll do it. After all,” she added, “you can’t keep giving me these free lessons.”

  Outmaneuvered, James handed Elizabeth a white linen napkin. James’s fingers brushed hers. Elizabeth started at the jolt of awareness she felt at the merest touch of his fingers against hers. She looked up and met James’s gaze. She could tell by the expression on his face that he’d felt the same jolt. He let go of the napkin. She caught it. “Now what?” she asked, nervously moistening her lips with her tongue.

  “Drape this across your shoulder.” James issued the instructions in a brusque, husky tone of voice. “Then place Diamond facedown against it and lightly pat her on the back until she burps.”

  “How do you know she’ll burp?”

  “Trust me,” James said, “she’ll burp.”

  And after a few minutes of patting, Diamond did.

  Amazed, Elizabeth looked down at the baby, then over at James. “She did it.”

  “Of course she did,” he answered. “And now that you know how, be sure to burp her just like that after every meal. Once she’s been fed and burped, she usually sleeps for a while.”

  “She’s already sleeping,” Elizabeth told him. “In fact, that’s about all she’s done since I’ve been here.”

  James shrugged. “Babies are like that.” He reached over and picked up the little silver bell beside his coffee cup and rang it.

  Delia appeared at his side almost immediately. “Delia, would you please take Diamond up to her bed and sit with her until Miss Sadler and I have finished our breakfast and discussed the nursery schedule?”

  “Of course, sir.” Delia lifted Diamond from Elizabeth’s arms and carried her out of the dining room and up the stairs to the nursery.

  Elizabeth looked bereft.

  “Don’t worry, Miss Sadler,” James said, nodding toward the Treasures. “I’m sure you’ll have plenty to keep you busy with these three moppets.”

  “What’s that about my moppets?” Will Keegan boomed from the doorway.

  Ruby squealed at the sight of him and hurriedly scrambled down from her chair to fling herself at his legs. Garnet followed right behind her, both little girls demanding that Will pick them up and hold them.

  Will obliged by lifting Garnet into his arms first, then hoisting Ruby into place as he strolled over to the buffet and sniffed at the dishes covering the array of eggs, potatoes, ham, kippers, bacon, kidneys, steak, porridge, and pastries on the sideboard.

  “Good morning, Will,” James said, when Will walked over to the dining table and deposited the Treasures in their usual seats. James then turned to Elizabeth and said, “Elizabeth, this is my closest friend and associate, Will Keegan, senior vice president of Craig Capital, Limited. Will, may I present Miss Elizabeth Sadler, our new governess?”

  Will Keegan studied Elizabeth for several minutes, taking in each nuance of her appearance, before he reached out and grasped her hand in a firm handshake. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Sadler.”

  “Likewise, Mr. Keegan,” Elizabeth politely replied.

  “Call me Will,” he suggested. “All my friends do. And, Beth, I’m willing to bet you and I are going to be friends.”

  “Thank you, Will,” Elizabeth murmured, a bit taken back by the bold, teasing expression in his golden-brown eyes. Suddenly conscious of how she must look dre
ssed in her wrapper and nightgown and with her hair straggling free of its braid, Elizabeth shifted in her seat, straightened the lapels of her satin wrapper, and tightened the sash. “You have my permission to call me Elizabeth.”

  James watched the interaction between Will and Elizabeth, and for the first time in many years, he felt the swift bite of competitive rivalry nipping at his heels. A few months older than he, Will was the eldest son of the minister of the First Presbyterian Church in Hong Kong. Refusing to follow in his father’s footsteps after finishing University, Will had gone to work as a clerk at Craig Capital. He had begun work five months before James graduated and had been the clerk assigned to James when he entered the family business. But Will hadn’t stayed James’s clerk. Once he realized he’d been unfairly promoted over Will, James had prevailed upon his father to promote Will and had begun his work at Craig Capital as Will’s clerk instead. The two young men had become very close over the years, rising through the ranks of the shipping and banking firm Randall Craig had founded in Hong Kong to become director and vice president of an international organization. They had grown up together and become as close as brothers. And although he knew it was quite natural to feel a sense of rivalry at times, James didn’t like the feeling. He loved Will like a brother. He trusted Will with his money, his corporation, and his life, trusted him as he had never trusted anyone in his life. But he didn’t like the way Will seemed to look through Elizabeth’s modest satin wrapper or the cozy way he tried to flirt with her. He wasn’t convinced it was harmless. Because all at once, James wasn’t so sure Will could be trusted not to poach in his domain. “Pull up a chair, Will, and sit down,” James said abruptly. “Your leering is making Miss Sadler uncomfortable.”

  Will threw James a sharp look. “I wasn’t aware I was leering. My apologies, Elizabeth.”

  “Apologies accepted,” she answered. “Please, won’t you join us for breakfast?”

  She issued the invitation so naturally that Will decided to pay closer attention to the familiar surroundings. What at first glance had seemed like a normal breakfast in the bachelor household of James Craig was something else entirely. Will looked over the dining table crowded with sherbet glasses and china and crockery, at the two oldest girls happily plunging their spoons into the sugar basin and a red grape-leaf candy dish and dipping out porridge, at Emerald jabbering to her father and pointing to a green egg cup as he fed her a spoonful of oatmeal. And Elizabeth and James sitting cozily together at the dining room table dressed in their nightclothes exchanging intimate looks and making reference to things in a language that included the Treasures, but seemed to exclude everyone else. Will fought to keep his jaw from dropping in amazement as James wordlessly refilled Elizabeth’s teacup without asking and as she bent to retrieve the napkin he dropped and handed it to him so that he could wipe oatmeal from Emerald’s ear. A miracle was taking place right before his eyes. James and the new governess were laying the foundations for a new family. Although he wasn’t all that hungry, Will decided this morning’s meal was too good to pass up.