A Nanny For Keeps

“Papa! Papa! Wake up, please! Lilly’s crying again!”

Tyler pulled himself out of a deep, depressing sleep to find his oldest daughter tugging on his pajama sleeve.

“What? What is it? Lilly is crying?”

“Yes, Papa. Hurry!” With that, Polly ran out of the room.

Tyler threw on his robe and rushed across the hall to the girls’ bedroom. Soft sobs drew him to Lilly’s bed, where Polly was trying to comfort her.

“Lilly? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He sat down on the bed and pulled the tiny figure up and onto his lap. Her sobs didn’t stop. “Lilly, it’s Papa. Tell me why you’re crying.”

“I m-miss Mama!” She sniffed and hiccuped before the sobs started again. Tyler rocked her back and forth, trying to hold back his own tears. Did she do this often? If so, why hadn’t the nanny awakened him?

He looked at Polly, but found she was sniffling, too. He held out an arm to her and pulled her up close, glad it was dark so that they couldn’t see the tears he was trying to hold back.

“I wish I could bring her back for you both. I know you miss her very much. So do I. But we have each other and always will. You know Mama wouldn’t want you crying, don’t you? She loved you with all her heart and wanted you to be happy.”

They both nodded as the sobs began again. Tyler had no idea what to do or say next. Dear Lord, I feel so out of my depth here. What kind of father am I that I don’t know how to comfort my girls?

He began to hum a nursery rhyme he didn’t remember the words to as he held his girls close. Suddenly Georgia Marshall came to mind. Maybe he could change the subject. “Miss Marshall begins work on Monday. Are you sure you want her to come to work here?”

Both girls nodded.

“Well, Monday will be here before you know it. That’s something to look forward to, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Papa,” they said at the same time.

The sobs had stopped, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he hummed another song. Soon Lilly slumped against him and he could tell she’d fallen back asleep.

“Let me lay Lilly down and then I’ll put you back to bed,” he whispered to Polly. She scooted to the end of her sister’s bed to give him room and he gently laid Lilly down and covered her up. Tyler kissed her on the forehead and then picked up Polly and carried her to her bed.

“Thank you for coming, Papa. I never know what to do when Lilly sobs like that.”

“You did fine, Polly. You’re a very good big sister.”

“And you’re not mad because I woke you?”

“Oh, sweet child, of course not. Why did Nanny never awaken me when either of you were crying?”

“I don’t know. She just said we weren’t ’posed to.”

“Well, from now on, we’ll make sure that any nanny we hire knows to awaken me, all right?”

“Yes, Papa. Thank you.” She hugged his neck tight.

“Will you be all right? Or do you want me to sit with you awhile?”

“I’m sleepy now. You can go back to bed.”

She sounded too grown up for a child her age. How long had she been dealing with this kind of thing on her own?

“And be sure to come get me or call out if you need me.”

“It’s truly all right?”

“It truly is.” He hugged his oldest daughter, who was too young to be taking so much on her shoulders. Then he pulled up the covers over her and kissed her on the forehead. “Sweet dreams.”

“Night, Papa. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Tyler turned and went back out, leaving the door open in case he was needed again. For the first time since Ivy had passed away, he felt he’d given his daughters a measure of comfort—if only in letting them know they could call on him when they were sad.

But how awful for them, that they were just now finding that out. Oh, dear Lord, please help me to be more attuned to their needs. I know that back home, nannies are the ones who take care of many of our children’s needs, but I never want my girls to fear coming to me for any reason.

Ivy had been much more attentive than most of the mothers in their group, and he knew she would not want him to leave everything to a nanny. But how was he to know what to do—or when to do it?

Tyler’s ego deflated like a punctured balloon. He had no idea.

Chapter Three (#ulink_301a088b-349e-5328-a902-dbec34c251bc)

On Monday morning, Georgia got up and hurried to the bathroom she shared with Betsy. It was still quiet and she took care not to make any more noise than necessary before going back to her room and dressing in a dark green skirt and green-and-white-striped shirtwaist.

She hurried downstairs and helped herself to a light breakfast at the sideboard. Gretchen came in and poured her some coffee and Georgia had just finished when Mrs. Heaton came in.

“I wanted to see you off on your first day. I do hope you and the girls have a good one.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Heaton. I want to be there before the girls begin to stir.” She’d asked Mr. Tate what time that might be when she’d seen him out the day before. He’d told her they usually stayed in bed until the nanny told them they could get up, but that they usually were up and dressed and taking breakfast by eight.

“I understand that. I’m sure they’re excited about you coming this morning,” Mrs. Heaton said.

“I hope so. And I hope I don’t disappoint them. I’m still not sure exactly what is expected of me, but Sir Tyler seems willing to let me find my own way. Truthfully, I believe Mr. Tate might be my best source of help.”

“You’ll figure it all out. I look forward to hearing how your day goes.”

“Thank you.” Georgia took one more sip of coffee and stood. “I’ll see you this evening.”

Several of the other boarders came in just then and wished her well as she headed to the foyer.

Mr. Tate had informed her that he’d let her in through the front door, since she wasn’t actually a servant, or she could come in through the kitchen entry downstairs. But as Georgia let herself out of Heaton House, she decided to use the kitchen door. She didn’t want anyone believing she thought herself better than them, and besides, ringing the bell might awaken the girls before she could get to them.

Sir Tyler and his daughters had sat a few pews behind the Heaton House group at church the day before, and they’d seemed quite glad to see her when she’d gone back down the aisle after the service.

The girls had looked neat and tidy, although Georgia noticed that their dresses appeared a bit short and her heart went out to both them and their father. He probably hadn’t paid that much attention to their hemlines and neither had they. She’d take stock of his daughters’ clothing that week, and then, if need be, she’d broach the topic of getting new ones to Sir Tyler.

He had asked her if she’d mind coming over that Sunday afternoon so he could give her a key and make sure she knew her way around before starting work the next morning. Of course she’d agreed, and she was glad she had. It was much larger than Heaton House, but at least she now knew just where to go once she was inside. She used the key to unlock the kitchen door and Mrs. Biddle seemed a bit surprised to see her, but approving that she’d used this entrance.

“Good morning, Miss Marshall. Would you like some coffee or tea before you go up?”