A Reckless Promise. Kasey Michaels

infant kicked him straight in the shin with all her might.

      “Tired and hungry,” Mrs. Boxer said, perhaps in apology—and perhaps not—hurriedly coming back to take Marley by the shoulders and steer her toward the staircase.

      Tompkins quickly suppressed a giggle, and even Mrs. Camford smiled as she brushed past the guests, to lead them upstairs.

      “She’s just a child, my lord,” Mr. Camford said from behind him. “Mrs. Camford will soon take her in hand. Didn’t take any sass from our four boys, nor from you, either, begging your pardon. I couldn’t help but see you rubbing at your head. Shall I bring you some laudanum, sir?”

      “No, thank you, that won’t be necessary. I’ll leave you and your good wife to sort things out, if I may, and retreat to my study to lick my wounds. Please have Mrs. Boxer brought to me when it suits her.”

      Mrs. Boxer. If she looked that good wet, cold and bedraggled, how would she appear in velvet and diamonds? Mrs. What in bloody hell was he to do with a Mrs.?

      And why had her demeanor gone from aggravated (truly, aggravated) to apprehensive when he had asked her for proof of her claim? Both the legitimate and the imposter would have come fully armed with documentation. So why had that one question upset her?

      It wasn’t as if he had demanded said proof or else order Tompkins to toss both her and the child back out into the rain. You didn’t just toss innocent children around from pillar to post all willy-nilly, as if they didn’t have feelings.

      The headache was closing in on him now, and thinking hurt, so he’d stop doing it.

       CHAPTER TWO

      “I ALREADY TOLD YOU I was sorry. Three whole times,” Marley whined, her bottom lip stuck forward in a defensive pout. “But he was mean to us. I could tell, because you were using that voice you use when you’re ready to go pop. That’s what Papa used to say. You get all sweet as treacle, Papa told me, and then you go pop.”

      “I wasn’t ready to pop,” Sadie told her niece as the two sat on the hearth rug in front of the nursery fire, finally dry and warm once more, Sadie still brushing her niece’s thick blond hair.

      “Yes, you were. Pop!”

      “All right, perhaps I was. But His Lordship has to be the most insufferable—no. I didn’t say that. He’s your guardian now, Marley. That means you will be polite, well-behaved, obedient when he speaks to you and that you never again kick him in the shin. What would your papa have said if he’d seen such naughty behavior?”

      “Papa’s dead,” Marley answered flatly, hugging the rag doll that was the most beloved of her possessions.

      Yes, John was dead. A truth not easily forgotten. Her brother was dead and Marley’s world had been turned upside down in an instant.

      “I know, sweetheart,” she said, gathering the child close. “We’ve spoken about this many times. He had never been well since he returned from the war, had he? Now he’s with the angels, and we’re thankful he’s at peace, reunited with your mama. Isn’t that right?”

      Marley turned those huge green eyes on her aunt. “You’re not sick, are you, Sadie? You aren’t going to go see Papa and Mama?”

      And there it was again, the fear Marley carried with her, the one Sadie couldn’t seem to make go away.

      “No, I’m not about to do that. I promised, remember? Why, I’m going to stay so close to you that one day you’ll be forced to lock your door to keep me out.”

      Death was a tricky subject all by itself, but explaining the finality of it to a child could break a person’s heart.

      And now, apparently, Marley had a new worry.

      “That’s what you say. He can’t send you away, can he?”

      “That’s His Lordship to you, young lady, not he.” Sadie tapped her niece’s pert little nose. “That being said, no, he won’t do that. Only an unfeeling brute would separate you from your very last blood relative, and your papa said the viscount is a good and honorable man.”

      Had she sounded convincing? Marley gave her a quick squeeze and got to her feet, looking much relieved. If her papa had said it, then it must be true.

      If only I could feel equally certain, Sadie told herself. Because here we are, nearly out of funds and completely devoid of options.

      “Ah, and here comes Peggy with your milk and cakes, just as promised. You tuck into that while I go see His Lordship and thank him for his fine welcome. Peggy?”

      “I’ll watch her, missus,” the young maid said, bobbing a curtsy. “I got two bitty sisters of my own. Mayhap we’ll sing songs, won’t we, young miss?”

      “I suppose so,” Marley answered, seating herself at the child-size table in the center of the room, and her rag doll in the adjoining chair. If nothing else, the child had taken to the luxury of her new surroundings without a blink. “I know lots of songs. Lots and lots.”

      “But not the one you overheard one of the outside passengers singing yesterday,” Sadie warned as she stood in front of a small mirror and inspected her appearance. Her hair looked presentable enough, brushed back severely and twisted into a figure-eight knot at her nape. The knot itself was damp, but if she’d waited until her hair was completely dry it would be nearly time for the first dinner gong.

      She had never heard a dinner gong, but she’d read about them, and fine houses such as this one. What a lovely place for Marley to grow up, surrounded by such beauty and ease. Marley was young, and already adapting to her new surroundings, seeing the housekeeper and Peggy as new friends.

      While Sadie felt out of place, an interloper. A fraud.

      It was best to get over potentially treacherous ground as quickly and painlessly as possible, and that meant she could not allow His Lordship any more time to think up objections or inconvenient questions, or more time for her to doubt her ability to answer those questions in a convincing manner.

      Her niece needed her; it was as simple as that. As complicated as that. She could not fail.

      “But it was so silly,” Marley complained around a large bite of cake. “‘It’s of a pretty shepherdess, kept sheep all on the plain,’” she sang in a high, childish voice. An innocent voice. “‘Who should ride by but Knight William, and he was drunk with wine.’”

      “Marley Katherine—stifle yourself.”

      “‘Line, twine, the willow and the dee.’ That’s all I remember before you clapped your hands over my ears.”

      “And thank the good Lord for that,” Peggy said, breaking off a piece of cake with her fingers and all but shoving it into her new charge’s mouth.

      “I’m so sorry, Peggy. She...she picks up very quickly on anything she hears. And has no problem repeating each word, verbatim. You are to consider yourself warned, I suppose,” Sadie said, taking one last moment to smooth down her plain, pale blue gown before heading for the stairs.

      “Mrs. Camford said to tell you she’ll be waiting on you in the entrance hall, to escort you to His Lordship’s study, and act as chaperone,” Peggy called after her.

      “Oh, wonderful. So very kind of her,” Sadie said, and thanked the maid.

      And then muttered to herself for the first two flights of her descent from the attic nursery to the entrance hall. Was the viscount in the habit of physically pouncing on his female guests...or did he worry that his unwelcome guest might become so overwhelmed by his masculine attraction that she’d assault him?

      She wished she didn’t feel she was on such shaky ground. Until a few short hours ago it had never occurred to her that she might not be believed. Everyone knew her; everyone