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At that moment there was a quick knock on the door, and the only servant in the Grayson household, Anna, appeared. Anna was young and strong, but sly, and she spent most of her limited intelligence trying to get out of work. Whenever Nellie complained that Anna didn’t help her enough Charles Grayson said he couldn’t afford a new maid or a second one and Nellie must make do.

“He’s here,” Anna said, her hair falling out of her cap.

“Who is?” Terel asked.

“The man that’s come to dinner. He’s here, and your father ain’t.”

“Isn’t,” Terel snapped. “What could the man be thinking of? He’s an hour early, I’m not even dressed yet, and—Nellie, is dinner ready?”

“Yes,” she answered. She’d spent the afternoon cooking, and now her dirty apron covered her dirty brown housedress. “Anna, show him into the parlor and tell him he’ll have to wait until we’re ready to receive him.”

“Nellie!” Terel said, horrified. “You can’t just let the man sit alone for an hour. Father would be furious. According to Father, the man saved his life, and now they’re trying to do some business together. You can’t just leave him.”

“Terel, look at me. I’m dirty. I can’t possibly receive him. But you look beautiful, as always. You go to him, and as soon as I—”

“Me?” Terel said. “Me? But I have to change and do my hair. No, Nellie, you’re the elder, you are our father’s hostess. You go talk to the man, let me change, and when I’m dressed you can change. That’s the only way it can be. Besides, what would I have to say to the old coot? You’re so much better with old people than I am. You can have him hold your yarn or something. Father says he’s a widower, so maybe you can talk to him about putting up jams or something. This is the way it has to be, Nellie, and I think you’ll agree with me if you look at it unselfishly.”

Once again, Nellie felt very, very hungry. She knew Terel was right. She was their father’s hostess, and she was very good with people of her father’s age, while Terel tended to yawn when in the company of older people. Nellie did not want to offend this man, as her father was trying to persuade him to manage his freight company.

“Tell him I will be down as soon as possible,” Nellie said quietly to Anna. Nellie turned to leave the room, but Terel caught her.

“You aren’t angry with me, are you?” Terel asked, hands on Nellie’s shoulders. “It doesn’t matter how you look, because everybody likes you. They’d like you even if you were the size of an elephant. Me, I always have to look my best. Please, Nellie, don’t be angry with me. I couldn’t bear it.”

“No,” Nellie said with a sigh, “I’m not angry with you. Take your time changing and make yourself pretty. I’ll take care of Father’s guest.”

Terel smiled and kissed her cheek. As Nellie started to leave the room she handed her the box of chocolates. “Don’t forget these.”

Nellie took the candy, and in the hall she stuffed six pieces into her mouth before removing her apron and starting down the stairs.

Inside her room Terel smiled and went to her wardrobe. Now, what to wear to dinner to meet her father’s guest? As she looked the idea of changing clothes bored her. Nellie was right. What she had on was perfectly all right for dinner with some old man, a man who had come not to see her but to see her father. What did it matter what she wore? He was probably too old to see anyway.

She lifted the spread from her bed, put her hand under the mattress, and pulled out the romance novel she’d hidden there. If she didn’t change, she’d have an hour or so to read before dinner.

Chapter Two

Nellie paused at the bottom of the stairs to take a quick look in the mirror on the wall. Her chestnut hair was straggling about her neck, there was a smudge of chocolate at the corner of her mouth, and there was a green stain—spinach, probably—on her collar. She didn’t like to look down at her old brown cotton dress, for she knew the hem was soiled and there was a permanent stain on the skirt. Terel kept telling her she needed new clothes, had even offered to help her choose them, but Nellie never seemed to have time for clothes. What with cooking, and cleaning what Anna missed, and helping Terel manage her extensive social life, Nellie didn’t seem to have much time for anything as frivolous as new clothes.

Now, on top of having to see to dinner yet, plus all the instructions she had to give Anna to try to get her to be of some help in serving tonight, their guest was an hour early. Why, she wondered.

She walked into the parlor, and he was standing with his back to her, looking out the window. She knew right away that he wasn’t an old man.

“Mr. Montgomery,” she said, walking toward him.

He turned toward her, and Nellie nearly gasped. He was a fine-looking man. Very fine-looking. Terel was going to be happily surprised when she saw him.

“I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting. I—”

“Please don’t apologize.” He had a voice to go with his face and form. He was quite tall, slim, muscular, with dark hair and eyes. “I have been insufferably rude at appearing this early, and I…” He looked down at his hands.

Nellie had always had insight about people, somehow knowing what they needed. He’s lonely, she thought, and she smiled. This very handsome man was just lonely. A handsome man come to call on her would have sent N

ellie into a dither, but a lonely man, handsome or not, young or not, was something she knew how to handle. She forgot all about her dirty dress.

“We are pleased to have you, whatever time you arrive,” Nellie said, and she smiled at him, that smile that transformed her already pretty face into one of beauty. She didn’t notice that Mr. Montgomery’s expression changed. He stopped looking at her in embarrassment for having arrived an hour early and started looking at her as a woman.

Had Nellie been aware of his change of expression she still would not have known what it meant. Handsome men looked at Terel, but not at her. She continued smiling. “We have a lovely garden,” she said, “and it’s much cooler there. Perhaps you’d like to see it.”

“Very much,” he said, returning her smile. There was a dimple in his right cheek.


Tags: Jude Deveraux Montgomery/Taggert Historical