Chapter Four
PERHAPS THIS HOUSE party was not such a bad idea, Jasper reflected as he helped Owen cast his fishing line on that pleasant summer afternoon. When he managed to forget the ultimate objective of the party, he actually found himself enjoying it. How long had it been since he’d spent leisure time in the company of other adults? He provided his workers with plenty of opportunities for recreation, yet it was a luxury he seldom permitted himself.
There was an unexpected advantage to having so many other people around, he realized as his gaze ranged over the party on the riverbank. Each of his children had someone to pay them particular attention. The older boys were frolicking with Miss Webster and Miss Brookes. Emma was having a quiet chat with Mrs. Dawson, while Rosie was being fussed over by Miss Leveson. That left Jasper free to fish with Owen, who sometimes seemed to get lost among his brothers and sisters.
It was something he should do more often. Jasper resolved to spend more individual time with each of his children rather than always with the whole group at once.
“Papa?” Owen’s voice was charged with suppressed excitement. “I feel something tugging on my line.”
Jasper noted the tension on the line and the way the tip of his son’s fishing rod dipped toward the water. “I think you have a bite there, lad.”
“What should I do?” The child gripped the rod so hard, his arms quivered. “I’ve gone fishing before, but I’ve never caught anything.”
“I shouldn’t wonder, with your brothers around.” Jasper gave his son an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “The trout likely hear Matthew and Alfie coming a mile away and swim away downriver. This fish of yours must be hard of hearing.”
Owen chuckled and the tension in his shoulders relaxed.
“Don’t pull too hard,” Jasper advised him, “or your line might break. Try easing your fish toward the shore. If he swims the other way, let him go as far as you can then bring him back. Be patient and you will tire him out.”
It took a while and more coaching, but in the end Owen coaxed a fine, fat trout near enough to the shore for Jasper to scoop it into a net.
That brought Matthew and Alfie running. “You caught a real fish! How did you do it, Owen?”
With an air of bashful pride, the boy gave a detailed account of how he had landed his catch. His brothers listened with avid interest and did not interrupt as much as usual.
Miss Fairfax strolled over to admire Owen’s catch as well. She did not look quite so much like a governess today. Perhaps because there were guests present, she had forgone her usual severely plain dress for a white frock sprigged with tiny blue flowers. Her sash and the trimming on her bonnet were a matching shade of blue. It suited her complexion and brought out intriguing flickers of amber in her brown eyes. A stranger might have mistaken her for one of his guests.
Jasper found himself comparing her with the other ladies. She was as pretty as Miss Anstruther without being conscious of her looks. She had far more good sense than Miss Leveson would ever have. She possessed more spirit than poor Mrs. Dawson or even quiet Miss Webster. Yet she seemed more capable and self-contained than Miss Brookes. He had taken her for granted since his wife’s death, trusting her to raise his five greatest treasures without fully appreciating her many excellent qualities. In spite of her insistence to the contrary, he was certain it would be no easy task finding someone to replace her. It would be a far better use of his energies persuading her to remain at Amberwood.
Miss Fairfax listened with patient interest as Owen once again recounted how he had caught his first fish.
“Well done!” She beamed with pride in her young pupil’s accomplishment. “When we get home, you must take your fish to Mrs. Gilman and ask her to fry it up for tea.”
“Papa must have some,” Owen insisted. “He helped me catch it.”
“I only gave you a little advice.” Jasper rested his hand on his son’s shoulder. “You were the one who hooked and landed it.”
He glanced up to find Owen’s governess watching them with a tender glow in her brown eyes that surprised him a little. He had never doubted Miss Fairfax gave his children the best possible care and instruction, but now he realized that she actually loved them. Was she aware her feelings for her pupils ran so deep? If so, how could she think of leaving them?
Miss Anstruther strolled over and spoke to Jasper. “How clever of your little boy to catch a fish, Mr. Chase. I have had no luck at all. You must show me the secret of it.”
Owen pursed his lips in a frown of annoyance, perhaps at being referred to as a little boy. Meanwhile, Miss Fairfax withdrew to admire Rosie’s wildflower crown.
“There is no great secret.” Jasper tried to stifle his impatience with the interruption. He knew he ought to take advantage of this opportunity to become better acquainted with the lady, as he had promised Miss Fairfax. “It all comes down to a little luck and a great deal of patience, which Owen has in abundance.”
“Owen,” Miss Anstruther repeated. “What an interesting name. Were your ancestors Welsh, by any chance, Mr. Chase?”
Jasper shook his head. “All Cumbrian folk, as far as I know. My son is named after a friend of mine. Robert Owen shares my ideas about the responsibility of employers to provide their workers with a decent life. We believe it makes good business as well as moral sense.”
“Indeed?” Miss Anstruther feigned a look of interest, but Jasper could tell she was uncomfortable with his radical ideas. “I was named for my grandmother. She was a Hervey.”
Jasper tried to appear impressed, for it was clear Penelope Anstruther took pride in the connection. But he had no idea who these Hervey people might be.
“Do you come from a large family?” he asked her as Owen took up his rod and cast again.
“Alas, no.” The lady heaved a sigh “I envy your little ones all their brothers and sisters. My parents began their family late in life. I was their only child and now I am quite alone in the world.”
Jasper knew how that felt. It made him warm to Miss Anstruther in a way he had not expected to.
“Shall I show you how to cast a line?” he offered.
The lady’s face lit up, making her look even more attractive. “Could you, please? I fear I am all thumbs when it comes to outdoor pursuits. But I am keen to learn.”
“That’s the most important thing.” Jasper picked up her fishing rod and showed her where to place her hands to get the best control.
Miss Anstruther made an effort, but he had to admit she’d told the truth about being all thumbs. At least she was able to laugh at her mistakes, in which he joined. When she finally made a fair cast, he complimented her.
To his surprise, Jasper realized how much he missed female company. Perhaps becoming acquainted with the other ladies would not be such an ordeal after all.
With that in mind, he glanced toward Evangeline Fairfax, who was summoning everyone to eat. When their eyes met briefly, he offered her a broad smile to let her know he no longer resented her matchmaking efforts. Regardless of what came out of this house party, he knew she had his and his children’s best interests at heart.
He expected an answering smile or perhaps a nod of approval. Instead, Miss Fairfax looked vaguely annoyed, though he could not imagine why. Was there no pleasing the woman?
What had come over her? Evangeline asked herself as she got everyone seated and served their picnic luncheon with the help of the footman and one of the maids.
Mr. Chase was doing precisely what she’d asked—getting better acquainted with one of the ladies. She should feel pleased, hopeful or some other positive emotion. Instead, when she’d watched her employer talking and laughing with Miss Anstruther, an unfamiliar sensation flared within her, making her insides clench and her cheeks burn. No appeals to reason could banish this perverse feeling, much to Evangeline’s dismay.
Fortunately, everyone else appeared to be enjoying their excursion. The children were clearly delighted with the attention being paid them.
“Look what we made, Emma.” Rosie showed off the circlet of wildflowers nestled in her red-gold curls.
“How pretty!” her sister cried. “It makes you look like a woodland princess.”
“Or a bride,” Verity Dawson suggested.
Perhaps she had not meant to voice the thought. When the others looked at her, she ducked her head and mumbled something about ladies wearing floral wreaths on their wedding day.
“Quite right,” declared Miss Brookes. Was she deliberately trying to draw attention away from Mrs. Dawson? “Plenty of the brides who get married at my brother’s church wear bridal wreaths over their veils. I am often called upon to stand as a witness.”
The mention of weddings seemed to make all the ladies pensive. Was each one picturing herself standing at the altar with Jasper Chase at her side?
Rosie paid little heed to the conversation of her elders.
“We made one for you, too, Emma.” She jumped up and placed a ring of flowers in her sister’s golden-brown hair and received a grateful embrace.
Matthew and Alfie made faces at one another, expressing their disdain for all the talk of flowers and weddings.
“Oh, Papa,” said Matthew, “Miss Brookes told us about the things you and the vicar used to do when you were our age.”
Alfie paused in his consumption of a cold chicken drumstick. “Fancy a vicar catching tadpoles and flying kites.”
“Alfie!” Evangeline and Jasper Chase both spoke at once in the same warning tone. “Mind your manners.”
But Reverend Brookes laughed. “I’ll have you know, I was a champion kite flier back then, Master Alfred, and I had no notion of becoming a vicar when I grew up. Perhaps you will be a vicar one day.”
The children all burst out laughing at such an outrageous idea, but Evangeline did not discount it entirely. She knew what a loving heart Alfie had in spite of his boyish high spirits. He was the first to comfort his brothers and sisters if they were sad or hurt. Perhaps the church would be his calling in life.
“We should make kites and fly them,” Matthew suggested, “up on Red Hill.”
Abigail Brookes was quick to approve the idea. “That sounds jolly, doesn’t it, Norton?”
The vicar nodded. “What do you say, Jasper? Shall we see if we still have our old knack?”
“It sounds like a capital idea.” Mr. Chase took a little round meat pie from the platter. “Can you find us the necessary materials for kite-building, Miss Fairfax?”
“Of course, sir.”
The strange feeling that had possessed Evangeline earlier seemed to have subsided. Now she savored the satisfaction of a plan well executed. Everyone appeared to be in fine spirits. Even Miss Anstruther seemed less haughty and Mrs. Dawson less timid. Best of all, Mr. Chase looked more relaxed and happier than he had in years. Surely he deserved that after all the time he had spent tending to his mill and his children.
Once they had consumed luncheon with hearty appetites, the party did a little more fishing until the wind picked up blowing in a bank of threatening clouds.
Evangeline helped clean up after the picnic then sent the dishes and leftovers back to the house with the servants. Once that was done, she approached Mr. Chase and suggested it might be wise for them to seek shelter.
He glanced up at the sky. “I was having too good a time to notice. We are fortunate you were paying attention, Miss Fairfax.”
Her employer’s remark brought Evangeline a flutter of satisfaction. It was gratifying to know that he valued even her smallest contributions to the smooth running of his household.
“Come along, everyone,” he called. “Let’s pack up our gear and get back to the house before we are caught in a deluge.”
A flurry of activity followed and soon the party set off back to Amberwood. Matthew and Alfie scampered ahead, calling to Miss Brookes and Miss Webster to chase them. Owen trudged along beside the vicar, with whom he conversed in grave tones. Emma and Mrs. Dawson held hands and walked quietly together while Miss Anstruther stuck close to Mr. Chase, who carried Rosie on his shoulders.
That left Miss Leveson on her own. She soon fell in step with Evangeline, who brought up the rear of the party. “It is clear Mr. Chase thinks the world of you, Miss Fairfax. How long have you worked for him?”
“Six years.” Evangeline welcomed the compliment. “I was hired to teach Emma and Matthew, but after their mother passed away, I took over supervising the care of the younger children as well.”
“You have done a fine job. They are lovely children—well behaved without being backward.”
“Thank you, Miss Leveson.” If there was one thing Evangeline could not resist, it was praise for her pupils. “They are as clever and good-natured a group of children as I have ever known, though I cannot pretend to be impartial.”
“Their father must place a great deal of trust in your judgment,” Miss Leveson continued. “I suppose he seeks your counsel about a great many things.”
“Some, perhaps, to do with the children.”
The lady gave an emphatic nod. “I thought so. I am certain you give him excellent advice about anything that might affect their well-being.”
“I try to.” Evangeline wondered where this conversation might be leading. “Why do you ask?”
“I thought you might want to warn him.” Miss Leveson nodded toward Jasper Chase, striding along some distance ahead of them with Rosie on his shoulders, while Penelope Anstruther hurried to keep up.
“Warn him?” Evangeline repeated.
Miss Leveson slowed her pace and lowered her voice. “Surely you must agree it would be most unfortunate for your pupils if that woman manages to sink her claws into their father. She claims to be vastly fond of children, yet she did not pay any of them the least attention today. She was too busy fawning over their father.”
That was true, Evangeline realized. No doubt it accounted for her strange antagonism when she’d watched Miss Anstruther and Mr. Chase together.
Gemma Leveson dropped her voice even further. “I happened to overhear her talking to Verity Dawson, whom she treats abominably, poor creature. Miss Anstruther said the girls and the little boy were tolerable, but the older boys were a pair of boisterous ruffians.”
The vague antagonism Evangeline had felt toward Penelope Anstruther flared into defensive outrage. How dare she say such things about Matthew and Alfie when she hadn’t exchanged a word with either of them? True, Matthew was constantly on the move, always talking and asking questions, but those were signs of his quick intelligence and boundless curiosity. Alfie could be a little bull in a china shop at times, but he had the most open, affectionate heart. Ruffians, indeed!
Her indignation quite choked her, but Miss Leveson seemed to mistake her silence for doubt. “Miss Anstruther went on to say that the boys should have been sent away to school long ago. I don’t doubt that is just what she will do if she gains any influence over their father.”
She couldn’t, could she? The glare Evangeline shot at the distant figure of Penelope Anstruther might have set the lady’s elaborate hat on fire. It had been their father’s decision to educate the boys at home for as long as possible. With their mother gone and him away so much, he’d wanted his children to have each other’s company. He was also reluctant for them to mix with young aristocrats who might shun them for having a father in trade or encourage them in false values like pride and selfishness.
Evangeline supported his decision entirely. She knew that a good boys’ school would not be subject to the deprivations of the charity institution where she’d been so miserable. But the reports she’d heard about such places from the brothers of her former pupils did not inspire her with confidence. She feared the wrong school might stifle Matthew’s curiosity and break Alfie’s spirit.
“I thought I would mention it to you,” Miss Leveson concluded, “since you seem so devoted to Mr. Chase’s children.”
“Of course,” Evangeline replied rather absently. Her thoughts were racing so, she was scarcely aware of the other woman. “Thank you for this information.”
“I felt it was my duty.” Miss Leveson sounded convinced of her virtue. “I have taken such a fancy to these dear little ones.”
With that, she hurried to catch up with Emma and Mrs. Dawson, leaving Evangeline to trail after the rest of the party, lost in thought.
If what she’d been told was true, it would be a calamity for the Chase children if their father wed Miss Anstruther. On the other hand, Miss Leveson’s devious tattling did not paint her in a flattering light either.
For the first time since she’d come up with the idea for a matchmaking house party, Evangeline questioned whether it was such a clever plan after all. What would happen if Mr. Chase chose the wrong lady to be his second wife? Could she bear to be responsible for that?
“I believe I owe you an apology, Miss Fairfax,” said Jasper as his children washed up for their tea.
“Do you, sir?” The governess had seemed distracted ever since they returned from their fishing expedition.
Jasper wondered if there was something troubling her. “I know I have difficulty admitting I am wrong. But in this case, I must make an exception. I am beginning to think this house-party idea of yours was not such a bad one after all.”
A rather pained look came over the lady’s vivid features.
He tried again. “In fact, it may have been a very good one. I was concerned it would take away attention from the children, but instead it has provided them with more. I enjoyed myself more today than I have in a very long time. For that I owe you my thanks.”
Her expression lightened and warmed in response to his words, though he fancied a shadow lingered in her brown velvet eyes. “I’m glad you had a pleasant time, sir. You deserve it after all you do for others.”
Jasper sensed an unspoken “but” and wondered what it might be. Or was he only imagining things? “You did an excellent job making everything run smoothly for our outing, so we could all relax and enjoy ourselves.”
“Thank you, sir.” She looked gratified by his praise, yet her gaze seemed to avoid his, as if she’d done something wrong rather than doing everything right. “It was the least I could do after all my meddling in your life. I meant well, but now I wonder...”
“Do not fret,” Jasper tried to reassure her. “Sometimes a person is right to interfere when they see a friend in need of help. Especially if that friend does not realize they require assistance.”
Miss Fairfax still did not seem persuaded. Perhaps the situation called for more than words. He reached out, clasped her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. “It has worked out for the best. Thank you for caring enough about my family to arrange all this.”
His gesture of gratitude seemed to fluster his children’s strong-willed governess in a way he had never seen before. Had he been so remiss about expressing his appreciation that she did not know how to accept praise?
Before he could think what else to say, Rose came running in from the bedroom she shared with Emma. “I’m ready for tea, Papa. Are we going to eat Owen’s fish?”
Jasper let go of the governess’s hands and turned to pick up his youngest daughter. “Not today, little one. Mrs. Gilman needs to clean and fillet it. She promised Owen to have it ready for tomorrow. I wish I had thought to bring along a pan to fry our catch over a fire and eat with our luncheon. Fish always tastes best that way.”
“We would only have gotten a tiny bite each, among so many of us,” said Matthew, suddenly appearing at his father’s side. “It wasn’t a very big fish.”
“A good deal bigger than you caught.” Jasper winked at his son to show he was only teasing. “Besides, you ought to recollect the story of the loaves and the fishes. Sometimes, when we are willing to share what we have, it multiplies further than we would ever imagine.”
He knew that from experience. Mill profits, which might have evaporated to pay for luxuries, could make a good life for many more working families whose labor kept his business running. In turn, he believed his employees worked harder and more efficiently than the wretched starvelings hired by his competitors. One day he hoped to persuade the other owners that charitable principles and good business could go hand in hand.
The other children soon joined them and they all sat down to a jolly tea. Each of the youngsters was eager to tell what they had done or discussed with Jasper’s guests that afternoon... even Emma.
“I like Mrs. Dawson best,” she replied when her father made a point of drawing her out. “She doesn’t make a fuss or treat me like a baby.”
Jasper glanced at Miss Fairfax to discover she was biting her lip to keep from grinning. He knew they were both thinking of how Miss Leveson cooed and babbled over Rosie. Jasper pressed his lips tight together and looked away from the governess for fear they might offend his daughter with a burst of laughter.
“Mrs. Dawson is all alone in the world, you know,” Emma continued in a tone of gentle pity. “She got married to a soldier but he was killed at Waterloo. I think she still misses him.”
The way Emma still missed her mother? The thought gave Jasper a pang. He recalled how his late wife had doted on their first child, such a quiet, contented infant.
“I’m sure she does,” Miss Fairfax spoke up when Jasper’s memories rendered him silent. “But I believe she enjoyed herself today and was happy to make a new friend.”
Her words seemed to comfort the child and encourage her to focus on how she could help Mrs. Dawson rather than dwell on the sadness of their bereavement.
Owen looked toward the nursery window where fat drops of rain spattered against the glass. “It’s too bad we won’t be able to play hide-and-seek in the garden after tea.”
The other children murmured in disappointment, but their governess was quick to suggest an alternative. “What if we play downstairs before the guests come down to dinner?”
Jasper’s children immediately cheered up, greeting the idea with enthusiasm.
“We will need your father’s permission, of course.” Miss Fairfax cast him a pleading look. “And we must promise to be very careful and not break anything.”
“We promise!”
“Can we, Papa? Please!”
Jasper gave a cheerful shrug. “I don’t see why not.”
The children cheered and their governess flashed him a grateful smile.
“Perhaps we should ask Miss Brookes to join our games,” he suggested. “She told me she wished she could have played with us last night.”
Alfie nodded. “I think we should. I like her.”
“So do I,” said Matthew. “Miss Webster, too. Can we ask her to play, Papa?”
“If you like.” Jasper wondered if the other children would want to invite their particular friends.
Before any of them should suggest it, Miss Fairfax rose from her place. “Let’s get tidied up first. Rosie, how on earth did you manage to get jam on your nose?”
Jasper turned to the nursery maid, who had begun to clear away the dishes. “Jane, will you kindly inform Miss Brookes and Miss Webster that the children will be playing downstairs for the next hour, if they would care to join us?”
“Yes, Mr. Chase.” The girl bobbed a curtsy. “Right away, sir.”
Perhaps this would be an opportunity to become better acquainted with one of the other ladies. Jasper mulled over the idea as Jane bustled off to relay his invitation. Without Miss Anstruther around to monopolize his attention, it might be easier to engage Abigail Brookes or Margaret Webster in conversation.
Yet somehow, he could not dismiss the feeling that the ladies would be intruding on his family time with the children and Miss Fairfax.