41
" Everett felt the corners of his mouth begin to twitch. “Millie’s gotten herself stuck up in this tree?” “I’m not stuck,” Millie’s voice called down. “I’m simply taking a small break up here to, er, appreciate the lovely scenery.” Swallowing a laugh, he looked at Elizabeth, who was grinning back at him. “What happened?” “The string on Thaddeus’s kite broke, and it landed in the tree.” “Did no one think about simply buying him another kite?” “He was crying,” Millie called down to him. “Tell me if you’d been here and seen Thaddeus crying that you wouldn’t have hightailed it up this tree.” “I would have, but I’m not afraid of heights, something I get the distinct feeling you suffer from,” Everett called back before he looked back to Elizabeth. “Why didn’t anyone think to send my father up the tree? I know he’s not afraid of heights.” “He and your mother went off to fetch Mrs. Hart,” Elizabeth said. “But they’ve been gone for over an hour, which has been making Miss Millie awfully nervous.” “Why would that make her nervous?” Elizabeth’s brow wrinkled. “I’m not sure, but Miss Millie keeps mumbling something about plotting, and that everyone seems to have lost their minds.” “Who "
― Jen Turano , In Good Company (A Class of Their Own, #2)
42
" When he got a good look at her, though, he found himself in the unusual position of having completely lost the ability to speak. Millie’s curly hair was tied back with a ribbon, making her appear remarkably young, while also lending her a rather flirty attitude. His gaze traveled from her hair to her face, and he felt his breath catch in his throat when he took note of the paleness of her skin, the panic in her eyes, and the slight trembling of her lips. A scratch marred her cheek, and as his gaze drifted down her person to make certain she wasn’t injured anywhere else, he blinked and blinked again. “Are you wearing . . . pants?” “Well, yes,” she said, right before she sent him the smallest of grins. The grin hit him like a fist to the stomach, and right there and then, in the midst of the tree, he finally realized what it was about his life that had changed. He, Everett Mulberry, one of society’s highest members, was attracted to Miss Millie Longfellow, the . . . nanny. It was completely unacceptable, ridiculous even, and almost seemed like a story Jane Austen would have penned. In fact . . . him being attracted to Millie was remarkably similar to the Pride and Prejudice story he hadn’t picked up for a day or two. And he realized now that he certainly wasn’t going to finish because . . . if Mr. Darcy did indeed end up with Miss Elizabeth, well, it was a silly fairy tale, plain and simple. He didn’t believe in fairy tales, even if Oliver seemed to have experienced one, but . . . no—he would not allow himself to think in that direction. The question that remained now, though, was how was he going to overcome this attraction—if that’s what he was actually feeling—for Millie? She "
― Jen Turano , In Good Company (A Class of Their Own, #2)
46
" Do you spend much time with Davis?” “A fair amount, but he’s very busy, especially since Everett keeps giving him new projects to complete every day, even though the peacock enclosure is far from being finished.” The gleam was replaced with calculation. “Are these projects Everett gives Davis completely necessary?” “Well . . . I suppose they must be or else why would Everett assign them?” Lucetta ignored the question. “And you said that Everett had been behaving downright charming to you, but then . . . completely out of the blue, he began acting somewhat surly?” “I think distant rather than surly might be a better way to describe him at the moment.” “Interesting” was all Lucetta said as she turned her head and looked out toward the ocean. “What’s interesting?” Lucetta considered the ocean a moment longer before she finally looked back to Millie. “I might be completely off the mark, but have you ever considered the idea that Everett might be slightly . . . intrigued by you? And because you seem to get along so well with Davis, Everett’s been behaving distantly toward you because he’s . . . jealous?” Amusement was immediate. “You’re delusional, especially since Everett is a gentleman who embraces his role within society. Because of that, he’d never look at a member of his staff as anything other than an employee, and he certainly would never allow himself to become intrigued by anyone on his staff.” Lucetta crossed her arms over her chest. “Why else would he be maintaining a careful distance from you? He certainly can’t blame you for the whole peacock fiasco or for getting stuck up in that tree. Besides, gentlemen enjoy rescuing damsels in distress. It makes them feel manly.” “I "
― Jen Turano , In Good Company (A Class of Their Own, #2)
47
" I think he’s attracted to you.” Millie wrinkled her nose. “You’re apparently not listening to a word I’m saying, but allow me to be crystal clear. Everett, I’m very certain, is not attracted to me—nor, I’m going to add, am I attracted to him.” Lucetta arched a brow. Millie arched a brow right back at her. “I’m not, not really, although I freely admit he’s a very handsome gentleman, and it’s been quite sweet to see him with the children.” She blinked and pretended not to see the smug expression on Lucetta’s face. “I’m truly only upset because I thought we were becoming friends, but now . . . he wants nothing to do with me.” Lucetta "
― Jen Turano , In Good Company (A Class of Their Own, #2)
48
" Everett didn’t hesitate to bring Lucetta’s fingers to his lips, but unlike most gentlemen, he didn’t linger, earning a nod of approval from Lucetta. “This is a pleasant surprise, Lucetta, finding you in Newport.” “Thank you, Everett, and I’m sure you’ll be absolutely delighted to learn I’ll be skulking around Seaview for the next few weeks—although you needn’t look so worried. I won’t be staying under your roof, but at Abigail’s. I thought I’d help Millie out with the children a bit, at no cost to you, of course, but . . . speaking of Millie—have you been given the pleasure of kissing her hand yet today?” For just a second, something interesting flashed through Everett’s eyes, but it was gone in the next, replaced with something . . . cold. “I don’t normally make a habit of kissing the nanny’s hand, Lucetta.” “And I don’t normally make a habit of telling people they’re complete idiots, but . . . there you have it . . . you’re an idiot, Everett,” Lucetta said as calm as you please, not even batting an eye as she delivered her insult. A vein began throbbing on Everett’s forehead, but instead of responding to Lucetta, he turned on his heel, stalked over to Millie, and grabbed hold of her hand. Bringing it to his lips, he pressed a kiss on it that lasted barely a second, before he dropped her hand as if it had burned him and turned back to Lucetta again. “Does that make you feel better?” “Hardly, since no woman likes to be kissed by a man who scowls at them, but . . . it’s a start. "
― Jen Turano , In Good Company (A Class of Their Own, #2)
49
" We got Everett’s note, the one telling us you were heading for Boston,” Reverend Gilmore said, stepping out of the crowd. “Since we needed to make certain you were safe and had found the children, here we are.” “But . . . why didn’t you just wait for us to return to Newport, or wait for us to send a telegram?” Millie asked slowly. “Because we’re your family, Millie, and families don’t wait.” With tears blinding her, Millie was soon enveloped in one lovely hug after another. Her heart was filled to bursting, and she realized for the very first time in her life that she wasn’t truly an orphan. She might have a family made up of the oddest assortment of people—from society matrons, to footmen, to dear, precious children, and Lucetta and Everett, of course—but they were her family, and she loved them dearly. “Mr. "
― Jen Turano , In Good Company (A Class of Their Own, #2)
50
" Mr. Kenton told me about the kiss you shared with Everett. The poor man was completely baffled about how to handle the situation, although he did mention something about a bat being involved, and not the type of bat that flies through the air at night.” Millie’s lips curved into a grin as she looked to Mr. Kenton, who smiled back and sent her a wink. Looking around the backyard, she was about to thank everyone for coming such a long way when Everett and the children reappeared, the children grinning from ear to ear and Everett looking rather . . . determined. He strode across the lawn and came to stop directly in front of her, silence descending as he took hold of her hand. Giving that hand a little squeeze, he smiled. “I was not comfortable saying anything until getting the approval of the children, but now that that has been fulfilled . . .” He dropped to his knees, but then, surprisingly enough, frowned. “Good heavens. This isn’t right. I don’t have a—” “I have one right here, darling.” Dorothy hurried up, pressed a small box into Everett’s hand, muttered something about it being a family heirloom, and then sent Millie a rather misty smile before she hurried back to Fletcher’s side. “You may continue.” “Thank you, Mother.” Everett looked up and smiled at Millie. “Where was I?” “You were getting ready to ask Miss Millie to marry you,” Thaddeus called. “Yes, quite right, thank you, Thaddeus.” Swallowing a laugh, Millie bit her lip as Everett grinned, but then he sobered a second later. “Miss Millie Longfellow, I know we’ve had our differences, and I know I’ve been a complete idiot with you, but as the esteemed Mr. Darcy said, or said something like this—through the pen of Jane Austen, of course—you are my reason for living, and I’d be beyond honored if you’d agree to become my wife.” “That’s not what Jane Austen wrote in her book,” Lucetta called. “Not even close.” “And you forgot to tell her you love her,” Elizabeth added. Everett turned and arched a brow at Lucetta. “I understand you have this gift for memorization, but honestly . . .” He directed his attention to Elizabeth next. “And as for your comment, I thought the whole ‘you are my reason for living’ covered that.” Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s not the same.” Sending Elizabeth a wink, Everett looked back up at Millie and smiled. “Well, there you have it. So I suppose all that’s left for me to say is . . . I love you.” With knees that were distinctly wobbly and a heart that felt ready to burst, Millie smiled back at him. “I love you too.” “And you’ll marry me?” “Of course.” Slipping the ring Dorothy had provided over Millie’s finger, Everett rose to his feet. Pulling Millie close to him, he smiled at the crowd watching them so intently, and then . . . he kissed her. "
― Jen Turano , In Good Company (A Class of Their Own, #2)
55
" Everett opened his mouth to argue, but before he could utter a single word, Caroline set aside her cup and began rising from her chair, stopping suddenly as she sucked in a sharp breath of air. A mere second later, Everett discovered what was behind her peculiar behavior. The chair was now firmly attached to Caroline’s behind, sticking out at a very awkward angle. One glance to the twins—both of whom were looking far too innocent—proved who was responsible for the latest disaster. A second later, there was an ominous ripping sound, and to his relief, Caroline was no longer attached to the chair, but when she turned around, he discovered that she was also no longer attached to the back of her skirt. As her shrieks of outrage began bouncing around the room, Everett realized what he was going to have to do. He was, much against his better judgment, going to have to seek out Miss Longfellow and beg her—on bended knee and with flowers, no doubt—to come work for him. "
― Jen Turano , In Good Company (A Class of Their Own, #2)
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" You never mentioned a single thing about running into Everett.” “Because you just got home, and again, I’m trying to take a bath, and just so everyone knows, the water is turning a little chilly.” She sent what she hoped was a pointed look toward the door, but her message was ignored. “Chilly water is incredibly beneficial for a lady’s skin, but back to Everett.” Lucetta scooted her chair forward. “Did his wards run off another nanny, and did he ask you to accept a position with him, and . . . did you feel compelled to turn down his offer because of that pesky attraction you feel for the man?” “I’m not attracted to Mr. Mulberry,” was the only protest she could think to respond. “How could you not be attracted to the gentleman?” Abigail countered. “A person would have to be blind not to notice that he’s incredibly handsome. Add in the fact he’s now responsible for three children, and well that must make him downright scrumptious to a lady who has a soft spot for little ones.” “I do not find Mr. Mulberry scrumptious,” Millie argued, wincing when Abigail sent her an incredulous look. “Oh, very well, I might have, when I first laid eyes on the man, thought he was a little handsome—although not scrumptious, mind you. But after he refused to consider me as a nanny for his wards, his handsomeness faded in a flash. Furthermore—” A knock on the door interrupted her speech. “Mrs. Hart? Are you in there?” Mr. Kenton, Abigail’s butler, called through the door. Abigail rose to her feet and moved across the room. “I am, Mr. Kenton, but Miss Longfellow is in the middle of her bath, so in order to preserve her modesty, I suggest you don’t open this door.” “Very good, ma’am, but I’m here to tell you that Miss Longfellow has a visitor. He gave his name as Mr. Everett Mulberry. May I tell him Miss Longfellow is receiving this evening?” “Of course she’s receiving, Mr. Kenton. Tell Mr. Mulberry she’ll be down directly.” “Tell him I’m not available,” Millie called. “Do no such thing, Mr. Kenton,” Abigail countered. “Millie is certainly available, and she’ll receive Mr. Mulberry in the drawing room in five minutes, ten at the most.” “Very good, ma’am.” Listening to Mr. Kenton’s departing footsteps, Millie frowned at Abigail, who’d turned away from the door and was beaming back at her. “I have no desire to see Mr. Mulberry, and since I am in the middle of my bath, which does, indeed, make me unavailable, you’ll need to go and make my excuses to the man.” “You’ve been complaining that your water is getting cold. That means you’ll have to get out of the tub soon to avoid freezing to death, making you available to speak with Mr. Mulberry.” “Perhaps I’ve decided to heed Lucetta’s advice and enjoy the benefits cold water is supposed to deliver to my skin.” Abigail "
― Jen Turano , In Good Company (A Class of Their Own, #2)
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" I would have never taken you for a coward, Mr. Mulberry, but honestly, do you really believe carting out your wards is going to convince me to agree to whatever madness has you seeking me out so late at night?” Everett smiled almost as brightly as the children. “Now, now, Miss Longfellow, there’s no cause to call me a coward. Smart like a fox, perhaps, but—” “You shouldn’t antagonize her, Everett,” Lucetta suddenly said, interrupting Everett’s speech before she turned to Millie. “And you shouldn’t be surprised he brought the children with him, considering everyone knows you have a distinct weakness for the wee ones. However, before the conversation moves forward, I really am going to have to insist that the two of you drop all of this Miss and Mister nonsense. We have a common friend in Oliver Addleshaw. Which means, like it or not, we’re now friends of a sort. And because of that, there’s really no reason for such formality.” “There is if he’s here to ask me to work for him.” “Of course he’s here to ask you to work for him,” Lucetta said. “But that has absolutely nothing to do with calling him by his given name.” Millie opened her mouth, but before she could respond, something that looked remarkably like mud began seeping through the paper wrapped around the flowers she was holding. Moving to the closest table, she unwrapped the paper before setting her sights on Everett again. “Did you pull these flowers right out of the ground, Mr. Mulberry?” Everett smiled. “Please, call me Everett since Lucetta was kind enough to point out we’re friends, and of course I didn’t pull those right out of the ground.” Millie held up the flowers, exposing the roots still clinging to dirt. “You would have me believe you purchased these from a flower shop?” “It’s after ten. There are no flower shops open, but if you must know, I had Rosetta pluck those out of the ground for you.” A little girl of about five raised an incredibly dirty hand and waved at her right as Everett cleared his throat, drawing Millie’s attention. “I think you should view it as a mark in my favor that I remembered the flowers, especially since, again, I’m a little sensitive to them, but . . . you were quite vocal about what it would take to get you to work for me.” He sent her a far-too-charming smile. Ignoring the charm, Millie lifted her chin. “You might as well tell me what disaster struck your household now.” Everett shot a glance to the children and seemed to shudder. “Why would you assume something disastrous happened?” Setting the flowers, roots and all, aside, Millie crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t insult my intelligence, Everett. You wouldn’t be bringing me flowers or children if something of a disastrous nature hadn’t occurred.” “The children are adorable, aren’t they?” “Of course they’re adorable, dear, which I’m sure you were hoping to use to your advantage,” Abigail said as she arrived in the drawing room, pushing a cart that seemed to be heavy with treats. "
― Jen Turano , In Good Company (A Class of Their Own, #2)
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" Miss Dixon is demanding I hire on a nanny immediately, and since you’re the only nanny who seems to be available . . . you’re going to have to do.” Millie blinked. “Do you honestly believe that little speech will have me accepting your offer?” Before Millie had an opportunity to so much as blink again, Everett was right beside her, dropping down on one knee even as he pulled her hand into his. “Please. I’m begging you. Come to Newport with me.” Looking down into eyes that truly did seem to be desperate, Millie considered him for a long moment. “No.” Her hand was dropped in a split second as Everett rose to his feet. “Why not?” “Because I’m a very good nanny, and I don’t like hearing you say differently.” “I brought you flowers and begged you on bended knee.” “That was just for show and you know it.” “I’ll pay you that two thousand dollars I offered Mrs. Smithey.” “How incredibly generous of you, Everett,” Abigail said, walking back into the room with the children trailing after her. “It’s not generous at all,” Millie argued. “He offered that same amount to a woman who had a very sour disposition and was probably a horrible nanny.” “I "
― Jen Turano , In Good Company (A Class of Their Own, #2)
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" Fair enough,” she said before she made for the door, pulling it open only to discover Everett standing remarkably close to it, as if he’d been doing his very best to eavesdrop. “So?” he asked. “I’ll do it, but it’s going to cost you twenty-five hundred dollars.” “That’s flat-out robbery.” “True, but you were the one who mentioned not that long ago that I needed to work on my negotiating skills, and . . . since you’re obviously desperate, I do believe this is the perfect time for me to try my hand at negotiating.” Everett narrowed his eyes. “And if I agree to your outlandish demand?” “I’ll come to Newport with you.” His eyes narrowed another fraction. “Fine, it’s a deal, but tell me, are you doing this strictly for the money?” Millie narrowed her eyes right back at him. “It’s never about the money, Everett. It’s only about the children. Maybe with time, you’ll understand that. "
― Jen Turano , In Good Company (A Class of Their Own, #2)
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" I wasn’t going to hurt him,” she told the man, earning a huff of clear disbelief from Mr. Victor in the process. “You broke my nose,” Mr. Victor snapped. “Which really does beg the question of why you’ve been allowed in the same room with me.” He narrowed an eye on her that was rapidly turning an interesting shade of black. “It is never permissible for a lady to punch a gentleman, not proper in the least. Although . . . given that you seem to be acquainted with Miss Plum as well, you’re obviously not a proper sort of lady.” “I’ve never claimed to be a proper lady, Mr. Victor. In fact, I’m just the nanny.” “You are a proper lady,” Everett said as he reached up and pulled the rag off his face, sporting not one but two black eyes. “And you’re not just the nanny.” Warmth began traveling up Millie’s neck to settle on her face, but before she could so much as get a word of appreciation out of her mouth, Mr. Victor let out another grunt. “Do not tell me, Mr. Mulberry, that this woman, the one who recently broke my nose, has been hired to watch Fred’s children? Surely you must realize that putting those precious scamps in the direct vicinity of a woman prone to violence is hardly in their best interest.” He mopped at his nose again. “She hit me in a manner that suggests she’s spends quite a bit of time pummeling people. That clearly proves she’s unstable—and proves you’re not fit to see to the children’s basic needs, since you hired her as a nanny in the first place.” “I’ve hardly spent my life pummeling people, sir,” Millie said before Everett could reply. “Well, there was this one boy at the orphanage, Freddy Franklin, but . . . I digest from the topic at hand.” “Digress,” Everett said right before he laughed. “I hate to point this out, Millie, but it might benefit you to go back through all the D words, since they seem to be giving you trouble today.” Millie’s lips twitched. “And that explains why I was so dismayed—another D word that I know means upset—about not having my sensible clothing available. My aprons come in remarkably handy for holding my dictionaries.” Additional warmth spread over her when Everett smiled. Hoping "
― Jen Turano , In Good Company (A Class of Their Own, #2)
