A Nanny For Keeps

“Well, I hope you’ll like the next nanny better than the one I hired to replace Mary and then the next one. You weren’t very nice to her, you know.”

“She wasn’t nice to us when you weren’t around, Papa,” Polly said.

“I’m sorry. You should have told me, instead of trying to run her away.”

“We weren’t exactly trying to do that, Papa. We were kind of...” Lilly looked over at Polly.

“If she wasn’t going to stay, we wanted her to leave as soon as possible,” his older daughter stated matter-of-factly. “If they don’t want to be nanny to us, we don’t want them to be.”

Tyler sighed and pulled his daughters closer, kissing them each on the top of the head. He didn’t know what to say. He understood their reasoning, but he felt terribly inept at figuring out what to do in this situation. It seemed he questioned every decision he’d made since Ivy had passed away.

All he really could do was pray for the Lord to help him talk Mrs. Biddle into staying, and for Mrs. Heaton to come up with someone to help out as soon as possible. He’d never thought the move to America would be such a huge adjustment for them all. And that might have been the root of the problem. He hadn’t thought things through at all.

* * *

Sir Walker’s dilemma had been on Georgia’s mind ever since he’d left Heaton House. She’d heard his daughters playing in their courtyard from time to time when she’d been out in Mrs. Heaton’s small garden reading. They were pretty little girls and she hated that not only did they have to adjust to a new country without their mother, but they also didn’t have a nanny to care for them in her place. She’d mulled over Mrs. Heaton’s suggestion and prayed about it and thought she’d come to a decision.

She dressed for dinner in a pink silk damask-and-satin dress trimmed with cream lace and silk braid. Then she went through the bathroom she shared with one of the new boarders, a seamstress named Betsy Thomas, and knocked on the door to her room.

“Georgia, come in. I was just about to go down to dinner. That pink looks lovely on you.”

“Thank you. You look very nice, too.” Betsy was quite pretty with dark, almost black, hair and blue eyes. She was dressed in a silk gown almost the same shade as her eyes. “We’ll go down together.”

“I appreciate that. It still feels a little awkward entering the parlor alone. I don’t know why, when everyone has been so kind to me.”

“You’ve only been here a few days. By next week, you’ll be breezing in without even thinking about it.”

“I hope so.”

Mrs. Heaton had put out her sign the week before. Her boarders seemed to have a propensity to fall in love while living at Heaton House, and she had to keep putting out a sign to fill the boardinghouse once more. But it never took more than a few days to accomplish that.

Georgia loved living here and getting to know the other boarders. They were a tight-knit group who enjoyed spending time with each other—even after they married. They enjoyed going on all kinds of outings together. And one of the best times was having dinner together.

With Mrs. Heaton at the helm, it was a time to share how their days had gone and to either commiserate or rejoice with each other, depending on what had happened.

She and Betsy joined the others in the parlor. Julia, the boarder who’d been there the longest, and Emily, who was fairly new, were there with Stephen and Joe—they’d moved in at the same time Emily had. Then there was Samuel and Dave, who’d joined the mix a few days ago at the same time as Betsy. The men dipped their heads to Georgia and Betsy as they entered, just as Mrs. Heaton announced dinner was ready.

It was customary for the men to escort the ladies to the table, and tonight it was Stephen who crooked his arm for her. But as he pulled out her chair, it was Emily he had his eyes on. Samuel beat him to her this evening and Georgia could tell Stephen wasn’t at all happy about it.

It was such fun wondering who might be the next couple to come out of Heaton House. Georgia knew for sure that she would not be part of one. She was barely over being rejected by the one man she’d thought to marry until he’d become her brother-in-law. Since then she’d vowed she would never give her heart to another.

Mrs. Heaton brought Georgia’s attention back to the present as she asked Stephen to say the blessing. Then Gretchen and Maida, Mrs. Heaton’s household help, brought in dinner and began to serve. As dishes were passed around the table, their landlady asked about their day. That conversation didn’t take long tonight, as nothing out of the ordinary seemed to have happened in anyone’s workday.

She turned to Georgia. “Have you had time to think about helping Sir Tyler out?”

“I’ve prayed about it and I believe it might be the thing to do, at least for a bit, although I really don’t know anything about being a nanny.”

“Why don’t I telephone Sir Tyler and speak to him about it? I’ll stress that it will only be temporary until he can find a permanent nanny and see what he thinks?”

Georgia released a sigh of relief. She wasn’t sure how to even approach the man about helping out. “That might be the best.”

“I’ll telephone him after dinner and let you know what he says. Then you can decide for sure if it’s something you might want to do.”

Mrs. Heaton was a dear. Georgia knew the woman would want to assure herself that everything would be on the up-and-up if she took the position. After all, they didn’t know Sir Tyler all that well and Mrs. Heaton would want to make certain Georgia would be treated well. Of that she had no doubt.

And deep inside she was sure Sir...Mr. Walker... No, Sir Tyler? Oh! What was she to call the man?

Whatever she settled on, she felt sure he was an honorable man. Which only created another problem—Georgia wasn’t certain her instincts where men were concerned could ever be trusted again.

Chapter Two (#ulink_c5cf2074-7f7f-540b-bd1b-aa04cf0b8a4b)

The next morning after breakfast, Georgia hurried upstairs to neaten her hair and put on a hat before she and Mrs. Heaton went to meet with Sir Tyler Walker.

“He sounded so relieved, Georgia. I’m sure you’ll be able to find Sir Tyler willing to work any schedule you please. He seems desperate and is now afraid he might lose his cook,” Mrs. Heaton had said after speaking with him the evening before.

“Oh, the poor man,” Georgia had answered. It seemed as if he had more than his share of problems at the moment.

Now, as Georgia came back downstairs and entered the parlor to wait for Mrs. Heaton, she told herself to relax. She’d not agreed to anything yet and she didn’t have to take the position. Still, the thought of those little girls being left with no mother—and now no nanny—twisted Georgia’s heart, and the nurturer in her wanted to help them. And besides, she truly needed a paying position.

Mrs. Heaton entered the parlor and smiled. “You look lovely this morning, Georgia. Don’t be nervous and please do not feel you have to take this position, if you don’t think it right for you. Also remember, Sir Tyler may be a baronet in England, but he lives here now and we are not English citizens. Even with pay, you’ll be doing the man a great favor if you accept the position and he should treat you accordingly.”

“Thank you for that reminder, Mrs. Heaton. I’m glad you’re going with me. I’m feeling a little jittery.”

“There’s no need to be. But let’s be on our way. You’ll feel much better once you’ve spoken with him and made a decision.”

They headed out the door and were on the steps of Walker House, as they called it, in just over a minute.

Mrs. Heaton rang the bell and a man Georgia assumed to be the butler opened the door instantly.

“Mrs. Heaton, and Miss Marshall, I presume?”

At Georgia’s nod, he said, “Do come in. Sir Tyler is waiting for you in his study. Please follow me.”

They fell into step behind him and Georgia couldn’t help but notice how tastefully decorated the home was. Had Sir Tyler hired a decorator or—

“Mrs. Heaton and Miss Marshall have arrived, sir,” the butler said.

“Very good, Tate. Would you bring us some tea?”

“Certainly, sir.”

He seemed to disappear as his employer crossed the room to greet them.

“Welcome to my home, ladies,” Sir Tyler said, motioning them to have a seat.

Georgia knew he’d said “Mr. Walker” would be fine, but it was hard to think of him as that, knowing he was part of the gentry in England. He might not be royalty, but still...

“Thank you, Sir Tyler,” Mrs. Heaton said, seeming to have no problem addressing him as they did in England.