What a Lady Demands by Ashlyn Macnamara Read Free Book Online Page B

“He just might at that.”
    “And now I must get back to my charge.” She stopped just short of nodding at him. He was a servant, after all, and she might be just slightly above him in the hierarchy these days. There was no need to become overly familiar. That sort of behavior had led her into trouble in the past.
    She pushed the memories aside and hurried from the stables, up the servants’ stairs to the nursery. Outside the door, she hesitated, unsure of her reception. She’d have to convince Jeremy to try lessons after his constitutional had been cut short. Once again, she saw in her mind the way the boy had regarded his father—only to be rebuffed—and her heart turned over. The poor, poor dear. And what sort of father treated his own flesh and blood so coldly?
    She’d have to set those thoughts aside for now and get to work, if she were going to make any difference in the situation. If only she could convince Lindenhurst to keep her on, but she’d have to meet his requirements. No time like the present.
    Setting her fingers on the handle, she plastered a smile on her face—the sort she generally reserved for the kinds of social situations she’d rather avoid—and pulled.
    Her cheery greeting echoed through the room. Jeremy sat in the corner lining up his soldiers once again. He didn’t even flinch at her entrance.
    She crossed to him, and still he did not acknowledge her. No matter, though.
    “I’ve just had a talk with your papa, and he’s told me he’d like you to learn to write your name.” As she said the words, she smiled all the harder, just like she used to when her aunt cornered her and launched into one of her interminable tales. Smile and nod. But now she only had to smile and smile some more in the hope that Jeremy would catch on.
    His troops were apparently far more interesting than the prospect of scrawling his name over a sheet of paper, for all the heed he paid her. He muttered something under his breath, while setting the final soldier in place.
    “What was that?”
    “I said, I don’t give a fig what Father wants. It’s never anything I can do.”
    She knelt beside him, but he still didn’t look at her. “Did Miss Crump try to teach you to write your name?”
    “Miss Crump and Miss Barton and Miss Bowman and Miss Ramsey and all the others. Doesn’t matter, though. I can’t do it.”
    Well, this was going swimmingly. “Naturally, you can’t do it. You’ve no pen and paper.” While he’d been studiously ignoring her, she’d had a chance to glance about the room and ascertain the lack of writing materials. “I’ll be right back with some.”
    A proper governess would no doubt have summoned a servant for such a task, but she needed to come up with a strategy to convince the boy to cooperate. One would think earning his father’s approval might be enough, but he’d clearly tried and failed in the past.
    And Cecelia had no idea how to secure his complicity.
    At the entrance to Lindenhurst’s study, she ran into Mrs. Carstairs. Not that Cecelia had planned to snoop any further into Lindenhurst’s personal papers, but here, she knew, she’d find what she was seeking.
    The housekeeper, however, barred the way. “His lordship has ordered me to ensure you do not enter his private rooms. Which include her ladyship’s bedchamber. No one goes in there but the maids, to clean them. Do I make myself clear?”
    Cecelia nearly dropped a curtsey. “Yes,” she lied. Lady Lindenhurst’s rooms? Why, when Lindenhurst’s wife was no longer in any position to make use of them?
    “His lordship’s study is also forbidden.”
    “Yes, I understand, only…” She chewed at her lower lip. “I was hoping to find some writing materials. His lordship requires the boy to write his name.”
    “I see. Well, I might find you some, but I’ve no earthly idea what good you think it’ll do.”
    Drat, the woman sounded just as gloomy as Jeremy himself. “Nevertheless, those are my