Mrs. Mayhew waved her hand as if to dismiss her concerns. “The scullery girls will clean that up, quick as a trice.”
Daisy glanced around. “Oh, dear. About those girls, where are they now? Safe, I hope.”
“They are,” she assured with another wave of her hand. “I’ve sent them off to buy more flour and some other supplies.”
Daisy breathed another sigh of relief. “I’ll take over tending the children. I know you must have your hands full preparing the family supper.”
“Soup’s ready and bubbling on the hearth. The meat’s in the oven, simmering in its own juices. Pies are cooling on the window ledge. All we have left to cook are the vegetables. Everything’s in ship-shape order, thanks to the menus you prepared in advance for us.”
“I’m glad it worked out.”
“The meals are simple to make, yet present quite elegantly. Ye’re doing a fine job of running the household, Miss Daisy.”
“Um, I’m not really in charge, Mrs. Mayhew,” she said with a modest shake of her head. “Mother is the lady of the house.”
“She may be, but ye’re the heart of this house, always looking out for everyone, getting things done and never taking credit. If ye ask me, ye’ve more than made amends for—”
Daisy knew she was going to mention The Incident and hastily changed the topic. “We’ll discuss it later. Perhaps in a few months when our guests have all returned to their homes. However, I’d like to discuss something of greater importance. Are your nieces still visiting?”
“Indeed they are. As a matter of fact, they’re enjoying London so much, they’d like to stay on permanently.” Mrs. Mayhew pursed her lips and frowned lightly. “I’ll have to find work for them, though I haven’t had the time to attend to it.”
“Perfect! Consider it done. Would they be willing to watch children? I mean, just until suitable nannies can be found.”
The older woman glanced up in surprise. “They know how to tend children, that’s for sure. They helped me raise my five boys after my husband died and did a fine job of it. But they don’t come from genteel families. They’re not the sort one would look for in a nanny. True, they speak softly and are well-mannered. I was hoping your mother might take them in as housemaids should the positions become available.”
Daisy folded her arms across her chest as a plan formed in her mind. “I’m certain we’ll have many openings before this month is through. In the meantime, your nieces would do me a great service by helping me with the children. I desperately need assistance and don’t mind that they can’t read the Greek classics or speak as finely as the Queen. We’ll regain two of the Farthingale nannies by the end of the week, and I expect they’ll want to keep your nieces on.”
“Thank you, Miss Daisy. They’ll be quite pleased.”
“Have them report to me first thing tomorrow morning. And... ah, no sense burdening Mother with the little details. I’ll instruct Mrs. Taft to add them to the list of household retainers.”
Daisy allowed the children to finish their treats before marching them up to her room and instructing them to wash their hands. She turned the chore of washing into a game that even Harry enjoyed. Then she sat the youngest children on her bed, pulled up a chair, and began to tell them a story.
“Can we listen, too?” her twelve-year-old cousin, Lizbeth, the eldest of the children, asked.
“Of course.” She waved her hand, motioning for the older ones to come closer, which they did with squeals and giggles. This small band of older cousins ranged in age from nine to twelve and were still considered too young to be allowed in the company of adults. They were at that awkward age, too young for more sophisticated conversation and too old to be forced to play with the younger children. She was pleased when they scooted closer, eager to listen to her read a story to the little ones.
“Tell us about the gentleman you met today,” Lizbeth said, tossing back her blonde curls while taking a seat next to her.
Daisy felt the heat of a blush creep up her neck. Goodness, how much had the children seen? “Oh, I don’t think—”
“Please, please, please!” Lizbeth persisted, an eager sparkle in her green eyes. “Harry met him, too.” She was joined by the others in a chorus of begging.
Daisy let out a soft groan. “Very well.”
Lizbeth cheered. “Harry liked him. We saw him hug the man.”
She wondered what else her cousins had seen Harry do to the man. “Yes, well...”
“He seemed very nice. Is he a war hero?” Lizbeth cast her an impish grin.