Fenella J Miller by Lady Eleanor's Secret Page A

most displeased by the way the nursery has been run. You have overstepped your authority. You are a servant here. These rooms do not belong to you, but to my husband.”
    The woman looked less confident. “Lord Bentley gave the children into my care on the sad demise of their sainted mother. He has never had cause to criticise in any way.”
    “That’s as may be. Things are different now. I am the children’s mama and their upbringing is entirely under my control.” She raked the nanny from head to toe and found her wanting. “You are dismissed from my employ. I wish you to leave immediately. I shall not be writing a reference.”
    “You can’t do that. Lord Bentley appointed me. Only he has the right to send me away.”
    Eleanor could feel the malevolence pouring over her and for a moment her determination wavered. Then three small bodies pressed against her. She could not falter.
    “How dare you speak to me like that? If you’re not gone from here by the time I return, I shall have you removed. Do I make myself clear?”
    Forcing herself to remain rigid, she stared icily until Nanny Brooks capitulated. Without a further word, the woman ran from the room and could be heard slamming about next door.
    “Well, that’s one task completed. The second is to find more suitable garments for you all.”
    “Our bedroom is next door, my lady. We can show you what we have and you must choose for us.”
    “I shall do no such thing, Lucy. You and Elizabeth are quite old enough to dress yourselves; I shall concern myself with finding something for your brother.”
    She was rummaging around in his closet when she became aware she was no longer alone. She turned expecting to face another antagonistic nursemaid. Instead two girls stood beaming at her. The taller, a buxom, blonde-haired young woman, of about seventeen or eighteen summers, curtsied.
    “My lady, we heard everything. Is that witch really leaving here?”
    “Indeed, Brooks will be gone before the day is out. Tell me your names and duties here.”
    “I’m Daisy, my lady, and I’m under nursemaid. This here’s Rose, she’s none too strong in the attic, if you get my meaning. But she’s willing and loves the children as much as I do. It’s a crying shame what’s been happening up here these past four years.”
    “That will be enough on that subject, Daisy. Can you manage to run the nursery for the moment? The children will spend the greater part of the day with me. I intend to be their teacher.”
    Lucy appeared in a plain green dress, her smock more or less on, her face alight with happiness. “Elizabeth has nothing to wear. Shall I give her something of mine?”
    “Yes, my love, do that.” The girl disappeared and Eleanor turned to Daisy once more. “Go through and undo Miss Lucy’s and Miss Elizabeth’s plaits. Leave their hair loose; a ribbon will be sufficient to keep it out of their eyes.”
    Alexander danced in, waving a garment over his head. “Mama, look, knickeebocks. And a shirt and things. I found them myself. Can I put them on please?”
    “Well done, young man. Quickly, let us dispose of these silly, frilly items and dress you as Alexander. Tomorrow I shall cut off those ridiculous curls.”

    The afternoon was a resounding success. Eleanor returned with the children far later than she intended. Alexander was so fatigued she had to carry him, but was wilting under her burden. She couldn’t stagger up three flights of stairs to the nursery without dropping him. He was remarkably light for a child of five years, but she was not herself having had no sleep for two nights.
    “Allow me, my lady. I can carry Master Alexander up to the nursery for you.”
    “Daisy, wherever did you spring from? Yes, please take him.”
    Rose had taken charge of the girls. They were holding her hands and eagerly telling her all about their afternoon.
    “I shall leave you to put them to bed. They must have a bath tomorrow; it is too late to worry about a