A misty rain graced Blackburry with gray clouds and rumbling skies. Avaline sat wide-eyed among black cushions and drawn-out curtains, struggling to stay awake. Her pulse quickened once more, and she gripped her skirt tightly. It had happened all too soon.
She had stayed awake, working on the fabrics for Miss Margaret. A few garments needed their buttons replaced, while others needed to be fitted. Avaline had worked as a seamstress for a month now, and although it paid enough to scrape by, it wasn't nearly enough. Avaline had slept for an hour or two before Lottie had shaken her awake. Lord Nightingale's carriage was waiting outside.
Vaguely remembering the letter she sent, Avaline dressed in a simple skirt and blouse before departing on the carriage. None of her siblings had been awake, and she hoped to return before anyone found out where she'd been.
Shivering, Avaline tightened her shawl around her shoulders. The soft platter of rain danced across the roof of the carriage. With the slow rocking of the wheels, Avaline's chin touched her chest. A jolt, and Avaline's eyes fluttered open.
The carriage had stopped. After rubbing her eyes, she pulled the curtain aside. The carriage had pulled up to Nightingale's estate. How long had she been asleep? Heat rushed to her face and down her neck. How long had she kept Lord Nightingale waiting? The sky showed no hint of the passing time.
She closed the curtain and smoothed out her skirt. The carriage door opened, much to her surprise. The coachman tipped his hat and held out his hand. With a grateful smile, Avaline stepped out. The sky rumbled, and she quickened her steps.
Mr. Timmons stepped out as Avaline arrived at the door. "Greetings, my lady," he said. "The Lord is expecting you in his office. Please follow me."
As Avaline followed Mr. Timmons, she glanced down the dark hallways. Even from her first visit, the previous Georgia Mansion had changed completely. Gone were Georgia's family portraits and were replaced by lords and ladies that she didn't recognize.
It was a shame Lord and Lady Georgia had sold their home. Rumors around Blackburry said their business had incurred many debts, so they had to sell their home to pay it off. Others speculated they had lost their fortune when their shipping business sank, and lived with their eldest because they had nowhere else to go.
The office had remained in the same room where Lord Georgia had met his partners. Before her mother felt ill, Avaline had visited the mansion more than once in her younger years. She remembered Lady Georgia often lamenting that her husband worked all day. Avaline had gotten a few glimpses of their business partners, but not enough to have a strong recollection of them.
Mr. Timmons stopped in front of a door on the first floor. Avaline took a deep breath. Her stomach rolled. Now that she was here, her previous bravado had left. To think she had taken a carriage to get here without notifying anyone. Was it too late to turn back?
"Enter."
Though the voice was soft, Avaline clearly heard it from behind the door. Avaline clenched her jaw. When Mr. Timmons opened the door, Avaline walked in with a smile. Unlike the rest of the mansion, a small crackling fire brightly lit the office and sconces along the walls. The warmth of the room lessened the tension along Avaline's shoulders. She shivered at the different temperatures. Yet, she couldn't relax entirely.
Lord Nightingale sat behind his desk, studying a few documents. Avaline's gaze flickered across his dark suit, red embroidered vest, and the way his silver hair shimmered with the help of the fire. When he glanced at her, she expected to see red eyes. Instead, yellow eyes that looked like gold observed her through thick eyelashes.
Avaline bowed. "Greetings, Lord Nightingale. May Luna's light shine ever upon you."
Lord Nightingale stood. "May Sol keep you in Her warm embrace." He gestured to the couch. "Please have a seat."
Avaline nearly sank into the soft cushions. It was like the carriage she had ridden to get here. Trying to be discreet, she glanced at the blood-born. As he sat across from her, he moved with ease like a whisper upon the wind. She quickly looked away. Mr. Timmons was gone, and the closed door gave them some privacy. Yet, this was the second time she was alone with a man. If anyone were to find out...
"Lady Stark." Lord Nightingale's voice was smooth, a contradiction to how he spoke the other night. "To what do I owe your visit? Your letter wasn't clear."
Avaline licked her lips. "My lord," she said. "I confess that I'm confused about your job offer." She squeezed her fingers. "The way things were left...between us, I was taken aback by your proposition."
His expression didn't betray his thoughts. Under his unwavering gaze, Avaline tried not to squirm. Was his letter a mistake?
"I will not apologize for how I acted," he finally said. "I believe under the circumstances it was necessary."
Avaline grit her teeth. "Then may I ask where the job offer came from? I don't believe my lord would change his mind so readily."
A slight knock on the door drew their attention. Mr. Timmons entered carrying a tray with bread and tea. Bowing, he placed the small meal and drink in front of Avaline. Thankful for the distraction, she thanked Mr. Timmons and sipped her tea.
"The lady of Nightingale Manor wished to employ you."
Avaline nearly choked. "Lady?" Her brows furrowed. "The little lady. Miss...Delilah." Then, it clicked. "Sir Arnie."
"It seems I don't need to explain." Lord Nightingale shifted forward. "However, I'm not inclined to accept her every whim. How did you convince her to employ you?"
Avaline placed her cup down. "I didn't convince her," she said. "I merely offered to help. Children are sensitive about their toys. I have two younger siblings, and I know that well." She met his gaze. "I didn't use any underhanded tactics if that is your assumption."
His attention flickered to the door. A moment later, it swung open. Delilah rushed in carrying Sir Arnie in her arms. Upon seeing Avaline, Delilah rushed to her side. Behind her, a thin but athletic woman with short hair, dressed in black clothes, followed her.
"Lady Delilah," said the knight. "You mustn't interrupt."
Delilah stared wide-eyed at Avaline. "You came." She held up Sir Arnie. "He's gotten worse."
Avaline pressed her lips together, trying not to smile. Not only did her toy need repairing, but perhaps a few manners as well. Now Avaline could tell why Lord Nightingale was so suspicious of her.
"Sir Myla." Lord Nightingale's voice lowered. "Do you recall your responsibilities?"
The knight bowed deeply. "Apologies, my lord. I shall take the lady back to her room at once."
"No!" Delilah shouted.
Avaline sat up straight. "May Luna's light shine ever upon you, my lady," she said. "To what do we owe this interruption?"
Delilah hesitated. "Uh, m-may So-l shine warmth upon you." Her gaze flickered to her brother, then back to their guest. "I needed, you see, Sir Arnie..."
"Lord Nightingale and I were discussing a few things." Avaline gestured toward Sir Myla. "Please wait until we've finished our conversation."
Delilah's cheeks puffed out. Her brow furrowed. She stomped her foot down.
"Lady Delilah," Avaline said. Her voice left no room for refusal.
The young girl's lip trembled. She nodded curtly and rushed out of the room. Avaline kept the stern expression until both the girl and her knight left the room. Alone once more with Lord Nightingale, Avaline breathed in relief. She patted her chest and nearly emptied her cup.
"Children," she said. The warm liquid trickled down her esophagus. "They never get easier. The trick is to treat them kindly, but sternly."
Lord Nightingale sat back against the couch. "You handled that better than most."
"I'm sure you've investigated family background," Avaline said. She emptied her cup. "Let's dispel this polite talk." She set the cup down. "I came here to accept the job offer. However, if you weren't serious about it, then there's nothing else to talk about."
At his silence, she stood. Her throat closed. Disappointment made her eyes prickle. It's for the best. If her employer were to remain suspicious of her, then no matter what she did, Avaline would never be trusted.
Lord Nightingale stood. Even with the coffee table between them, she barely came up to his shoulder. He was much taller than she'd anticipated. She had to lift her head to meet his gaze. Gazing he was, but not a clue about his thoughts.
"Forgive me," he said. "Please sit."
She nodded curtly and returned to her seat.
"As you are aware," he began. "Delilah and I are newer residents. I, myself, am occupied by my responsibilities, and Delilah is yet to adjust to our new surroundings. It hasn't been easy leaving our mother coven." He gestured to the door. "As you see, she needs guidance."
"Am I to understand you wish for me to provide that guidance?"
He nodded. "The pay is generous, but the hours will be unconventional. Blood-born children have different hours than what you might be accustomed to. I'm also aware of the social implications of such an offer. I wouldn't have asked if Delilah hadn't insisted upon it. It seems she's taken a liking to you."
Avaline glanced at the bread on the coffee table. He was more attentive than she thought. Everything he listed should have been a warning to her. Yet, she didn't want to refuse. If she were to work for a few months, paying the principal balance of the bank loan wouldn't be a stretch.
She met his gaze. "I am willing to be Delilah's governess."
His eyes shimmered. "We shall be in your care."
This time, Avaline's smile was genuine. It was a step forward in the right direction.