“Would you like to take this with you?” He held up the list of gentlemen.
She nearly laughed. That is what he had called her back for? “No,” she said. “You keep it. Perhaps you could add more men to it after all.”
“True.” He placed it back down on his desk and then took a deep breath before turning around. He practically marched through the doorway past her and then motioned for her to follow him to the nursery. It was a subtle reminder: she was the maid here. She followed, watching his every move, while he looked only forward, perhaps not even remembering she was there.
Which was fine. She hadn’t come to the home so Mr. Woodsworth would think of her or remember her. She was here to have an experience that taught her about hard work and helped her experience a life different from her own. After spending three hours ironing the day before, at least she knew she was accomplishing that.
They reached the corridor that led to the nursery, and he slowed enough for her to almost overtake him. He lowered his head but didn’t turn it. “I hope you know that we shall be sorry to lose you.”
She swallowed a bitter laugh. That is what all employers told employees they parted company with. She had heard Papa say it several times. It wasn’t really true though. The only employees they had dismissed had been the ones who didn’t fit with the family. No one had truly been sorry to see them go.
***
What had just transpired in his study? Anthony was unsure, and he didn’t like to be unsure. He snuck a glance back at Patience. Her normally cheerful face was solemn. He had thought for a moment . . . But it was ridiculous. His maid knew this was a charade, a charade to secure him a wife, even. She was worried about losing her position. Even still, what had prompted him to hold her hands? The Woodsworth family weren’t exactly the type of people to show affection with touch.
Not that he had any affection for his maid. That was logically impossible.
Improbable, at the very least.
He wanted nothing more than to tell her she could keep her position and hopefully put a smile back on that broad mouth of hers, but she was correct. Once he and Miss Morgan were engaged, they would have to start looking for another situation for Patience.
“Do you know what play the children have planned for us?”
“No, they wouldn’t tell me. But it has kept them entertained for hours, so I haven’t complained.”
“It should be interesting, at any rate.”
“With Harry and Augusta?” Patience said. There was that smile of hers, not as broad as it usually was, but his conversation hadn’t killed all of her playfulness. “Of course it will be interesting.”
Over the past few days, Harry and Augusta had come alive under Patience’s care. They were still strictly obedient, but they had begun exploring outside more and were laughing more often. Sophia was a wonderful mother, but levity had always been her husband’s job. It was high time the man came home.
Sophia was already seated in one of three chairs set up opposite a pile of quilts on the floor.
“Have the children told you what they have planned?” he asked her.
Sophia shook her head. “No, I believe it is a surprise for all of us.”
Anthony took the seat next to his sister, leaving the chair next to him open for Patience. She had been quiet since leaving his study. She sat on the edge of her seat, as far from him as possible.
Harry and Augusta walked into the room. Augusta had some sort of triangular piece of paper tied around her mouth. She tiptoed over to the bundled-up quilts and plopped herself down in the middle of them, then covered her head with her hands.
“Thank you for coming,” Harry announced in a loud, clear voice. The boy was getting older, and his father was missing it. “We now would like to show you a play. The play is The Ugly Duck.”
Patience shifted in her chair. “Oh no.”
“Once there was an egg,” Harry continued, and Augusta squirmed. “It was in a nest.” Ah, so the quilts were meant to be a nest. “Until one day, the egg hatched.”
Augusta broke open her arms and jumped up. “I’m an ugly duck,” she said with an over-exaggerated frown.
Patience groaned. Anthony thought they were doing a fine job. Harry was enunciating well, and Augusta’s facial expressions were spot-on. He wasn’t sure what there was to groan about.
Harry walked over to the nest and helped Augusta climb out. “No one liked the ugly duck. The other ducks pecked at her.” He used his hands to pretend to peck at Augusta.
“Ouch.”
“But one day something strange happened to the duck. He—”
“She!” Augusta said.
“She was not ugly anymore. She became beautiful.”
Augusta spun around and around while Harry rushed behind the pile of quilts to grab some gauzy white material. He wrapped it around her, and she stopped spinning. Instead she started flapping her hands as if they were wings covered in the material.
“Now I’m a beautiful duck!” She flapped right up to Anthony’s face and practically climbed onto his lap. Patience had a hand over her face, her typically exceptional posture hunched over and turned away from him and Augusta. Augusta placed a hand on either side of his face and pulled it back to look at her. “Aren’t I a beautiful duck?”
With her face practically in his own, he smiled. “Yes, you are a very beautiful duck.”
“He smiled!” Augusta waved her filmy fabric around in triumph. “Uncle smiled his duck smile.”
Patience started clapping wildly. “Hooray, children! Well done. You have made an excellent play.”
“Did you see his smile, Miss Patience?” Harry walked over to the adults. Why were Harry and Augusta so focused on making him smile? Was he really that much of a bore? The children had spent hours getting this ready just to get a smile out of him?
“Yes, yes I did.”
“You were right about it.”
“I was?” She gathered up the two children, one arm around each, and walked them back over to the nest. “Now it is time to take a bow. After a performance, one must always take a bow.”
Why did Patience seem so nervous? Sophia leaned over to him. “It seems that play was put on for you, not me. No one was happy to see my smile.”
“I suppose they wanted to see my duck smile. Patience has a lot of sway over your children.” His face felt tight. The children had worked so hard to evoke a smile from him. He felt he needed to keep it. It was forced though. All of his desire to smile had fled. And to think only a moment ago he had thought perhaps Patience had some misguided feelings for him. How had he forgotten one of her earliest comments? She thought his smile made him look like a duck. “Is my smile really that ridiculous?”