No Earls Allowed (The Survivors #2)(54)

“Do you expect me to believe that?”

“It is the truth.”

Mrs. Dunwitty looked at Neil, and he nodded his agreement.

“Very well,” said Mrs. Dunwitty, seating herself in one of the armchairs. “I will accept that explanation for the time being. But we have not finished our discussion of this matter. However, I see there may be more pressing matters to discuss. You wrote that you needed a teacher?”

“Yes. Have you come to help?”

So this was Lady Juliana’s former governess. It all made sense. No wonder she played the overzealous chaperone. And no wonder Lady Juliana had asked for her assistance. If anyone could teach these boys, it was obviously Mrs. Dunwitty the Terrible.

“I will stay and teach until you can find a replacement. I’m far too old and feeble to take the position permanently.”

Neil covered his laugh with a cough.

“Are you quite well, Major?” Mrs. Dunwitty asked.

“Actually,” he said, clearing his throat, “I have a few matters to attend to. If you will excuse me.”

“Of course.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. A knock sounded on the front door, and Neil knew he was saved.

“What sort of matters?” Lady Juliana asked, her eyes flicking to him as if to beg him not to desert her.

“That is not our concern,” Mrs. Dunwitty told her former charge. “Now, tell me what the boys have learned thus far.”

Neil waved as he left the parlor, only to almost trip over the new cook, who had been standing just outside the room. “Mrs. Koch, was there something you needed?”

She put her hands on her hips. “Yah. If you vant me to cook the breakfast, then I don’t have the time to answer the doors.”

“Of course. You needn’t answer the door.” That was his excuse for escape. “Where is Mr. Goring?”

“I don’t know vhere that man vent, but he vent in a hurry.”

Bloody hell. Neil knew exactly where Goring had gone.

“You have a guest, yah?” She nodded to Neil and then pointed to the entryway.

Neil pointed to his chest as if to verify it was he who had a guest. When the cook nodded, Neil moved down the corridor and into the entryway and found Jackson suspiciously eyeing one of the buckets collecting rain.

The valet was tall and almost gangly with thinning, black hair that he combed over the bald spot on the top of his head. He had large eyes that reminded Ewan of a puppy’s, along with a bulbous nose. But Jackson was good at his job. He did not dress Neil to within an inch of his life, as Rafe’s valet did Rafe, but he made sure Neil was somewhat fashionable and that his clothing was well-maintained.

Jackson frowned with disapproval when he spotted Neil. “I see I was right to come.”

It had obviously been a mistake to stop at his flat the previous day before visiting the Draven Club. “No, you were not. I didn’t ask you to come here. I asked you to send clothing and toiletries.”

A thud came from upstairs, and Neil realized it had been quiet for too long.

Jackson’s puppy eyes widened with pleading. “Sir, I apologize for my behavior yesterday. I promise it will never happen again.”

Neil moved toward the stairs. “What behavior yesterday?”

Jackson loped after him. “My gross inattention to my duties. Please do not dismiss me, sir.”

Neil paused outside the drawing room at the top of the stairs. “You mean, when I found you napping?”

Jackson’s face turned pink and he hung his head. “It will never happen again. I swear on my mother’s grave.”

Neil held up both hands. “I have no intention of sending you packing.”

Another sound came from above, but this time, it was more of a crash.

“Go back to my flat and sleep all you want.” Neil raced up the next set of stairs. “This torture can’t last much longer.”

“I cannot do that, sir,” Jackson said, racing after him. “I have come to prove my indispensability.”

Neil heard the shouts and the thumps from behind the closed door of the older boys’ dormitory. Chester and James stood in the doorway of the younger boys’ chamber, eyes wide with concern.

“What is this about?” Neil gestured to the closed door.

Chester shook his head. James just stared, wide-eyed.

Neil lifted the latch, but the door didn’t budge. The boys must have put something against the door to prevent entrance. He tried shoving it open with his shoulder but made little progress. “Open up!” He pounded on the door. “Open up or I’ll send all of you to a workhouse!”

The ruckus inside continued, and the door stayed closed. Neil pounded on it again.

“If you will excuse me, sir,” Jackson interrupted. “Might I have a try?”

Neil stared at the valet. “Why not?”

Jackson cleared his throat. “The first boy to open the door will receive a shilling to buy a sweet.”

Michael opened the door. “Where’s my shilling?”

Neil pushed past him and into the center of the room where Billy and Robbie were circling each other, fists raised. Robbie’s nose bled freely, flowing over his mouth and down his neck. Billy’s cheek was red and his lip was split, but he was certainly winning the match.