Seven Minutes in Heaven(7)

“I would be grateful if we could dispense with formalities.”

There was no question about it; she was facing the rare client who had no idea who she was.

At all.

It was rather . . . fascinating.

The appeal of her agency lay in her rank—by right of being born to one nobleman and married to another. Her enormous inheritance didn’t hurt, but it was her birth that allowed her to be accounted “eccentric” for running a business, instead of being banished from polite society.

Although to be fair, there were a few who considered her to be a disgrace to her name. Still, even those recognized that her father was a marquis and her late husband the son of a viscount.

Mr. Reeve appeared to believe that she was a governess.

Eugenia was appalled to find that he was rattling her nerves. This was absurd. He was just another client, to be soothed or squashed as his complaint merited. Considering his termination of Penelope’s employment, he needed to be squashed.

She would be polite but firm, as was her practice. He was far from the first parent to whom she’d refused a governess, let alone a second one.

She sat down and nodded. “Won’t you please be seated?”

He dropped into the chair opposite her. “I imagine that you’ve learned that I had to dismiss Miss Lumley. I need someone else.”

“May I know the nature of your dissatisfaction?”

“I see no reason to get into particulars,” Mr. Reeve replied, drumming his fingers on his chair. “She’s a pleasant woman, but she won’t do.”

“Miss Lumley is not a glass of milk that you can send back for being curdled,” Eugenia stated.

“‘Curdled’ is a good word for her. Let me be clear that I’m not blaming you. Or her, for that matter. The blame for Miss Lumley’s curdled nature must be put at the feet of her parents.”

Since when did Oxford dons have husky voices that made a woman think—not that Eugenia was thinking of that, because she wasn’t. Still, her tutors had spoken in polished syllables, whereas Mr. Reeve had a gravelly timbre. “Could you be more specific about Miss Lumley’s perceived shortcomings?”

“She hasn’t the strength of will or the wits needed to deal with my siblings.” A hint of impatience passed over his face. “I could make allowances if Lizzie and Otis were fond of her, but they aren’t. Surely you can spare a governess? I’m told all the best ones work for you.”

“Yes, they do,” Eugenia said. “But as a general rule, I do not reassign my employees. Inasmuch as you were not happy with Miss Lumley, you are welcome to look for a governess elsewhere. I can direct you to several respectable registry offices.”

Any ordinary client would have panicked at this pronouncement, but Eugenia was forming the impression that panic wasn’t in Mr. Reeve’s arsenal.

“I’d rather you gave me a new one.” His mouth curved upward in a smile that—that—

Eugenia spent a second wrestling with the fact that his smile set her heart racing. “Mr. Reeve, forgive me, but you don’t appear to understand the nature of Snowe’s Registry Office.” She sounded like a pompous fool, but what could she do? He seemed to know nothing at all about her or her company.

“I suspect you are correct.” The faint humor in his eyes was extraordinarily irritating, but it was certainly not unusual to meet gentlemen who underestimated her.

“My governesses are highly trained and much in demand,” Eugenia stated. “They are considered essential in the best nurseries. Parents have been known to hide their children in the country and pretend they didn’t exist if I can’t find them a governess.” She paused in order to emphasize the statement. “I cannot offer you another of my governesses.”

Mr. Reeve didn’t even blink. “Surely you could spare just one? We didn’t have the chance to meet before you sent Lumpy—I mean, Miss Lumley, but—”

Eugenia cut him off. “‘Lumpy?’”

“The children didn’t take to Miss Lumley,” he said apologetically.

“‘Lumpy’ is a highly disrespectful epithet,” Eugenia snapped.

“I’m fairly certain they never used it to her face.” He seemed to think that was sufficient. “But as I was saying,” he continued, “given that you and I did not have a chance to meet before Miss Lumley was dispatched to my household, I came to London in order to ensure that the next governess will be more suited to the position. To be frank, I need a cross between a lion tamer and a magician.”

“Never mind the impossibility of that; your request implies that I would trust you with another of my governesses,” Eugenia countered. “You will have to seek your lion tamer elsewhere.”