Lady Midnight by Amanda Mccabe

Christina into a Diamond."
    "Indeed? A Diamond?" Lady Darcy arched one dark, delicately winged brow. "That I should be very grateful to see, Mrs. Brown."
    Kate was saved from making a reply—and from ruing her earlier arrogant words!—when the drawing room door opened and a nursemaid in starched white cap and apron appeared. By the hand she held a tiny fairy-child, surely fresh from the depths of some enchanted forest.
    It had to be little Miss Amelia, Michael Lindley's daughter. She didn't look a great deal like her father—her hair was sun gold where his was dark, and fell over her shoulders in a riot of ringlets. She was very small, even for her young age, and thin in her pale pink muslin dress. But her eyes were the same clear sky blue as his, large and luminous in her rounded, sweet face.
    Kate smiled at her, hoping she seemed welcoming and friendly. Miss Amelia hung back, one little hand tangled in her nurse's skirts. One long curl was twisted around her finger. Those blue eyes were wide and wary.
    Kate had never been a woman who cooed over children. For one thing, she had not been much in their company. The few friends of her mother who were parents kept their offspring firmly out of sight. For another, children were simply not the most adept at conversation. They knew nothing of art or poetry, and usually had sticky little paws that stained silk skirts and broke jeweled necklaces. And the children usually sensed this awkwardness in her. Even the tiniest infants howled when placed near her.
    Governess was perhaps not the best choice of vocation for her—Kate knew that very well. But she could do nothing else. She would not, could not, go back to the profession she was raised for. And she knew even less about cooking or cleaning than she did about children. And no position as lady's companion came open at the agency while she was in London. So governess it had to be, despite any qualms.
    Yet right now, as she stared down at this quiet little girl, Kate wanted so very much for Amelia to like her.
    "Amelia, dearest," Mr. Lindley said, his voice full of tenderness and care. He swept past Kate and knelt down beside the girl. Amelia smiled at him from behind her twisted hair.
    "Now, rosebud," her father said gently but firmly as he reached up to take her hand in his and thus remove her hand from her hair. "You know you're not supposed to twist your hair anymore."
    The girl nodded, her bright curls bouncing like happy little sunbeams.
    "There is someone here for you to meet. Mrs. Brown, who has come all the way from London to be your governess. Remember?" Another nod. Mr. Lindley took her by the hand and led her over to where Kate stood, feeling as stiff and frozen as a Roman statue. "Mrs. Brown, may I present my daughter, Miss Amelia Lindley?"
    "How do you do, Mrs. Brown?" the child spoke at last. Her voice was as delicate and otherwordly as the rest of her, gentle and quiet, touched with a slight lisp. She wouldn't look up, though; her gaze was firmly fastened to Kate's hem.
    San Marco. This was really even more nerve-racking than meeting a prince or an archbishop. At least then Kate knew what to do. "How do you do, Miss Amelia?" she answered. She decided to learn from Mr. Lindley's example, and knelt down next to the girl, bringing their eyes on a level. "I understand that you like music."
    That coaxed a spark of interest. Miss Amelia looked up at last, shyly meeting Kate's gaze. "Yes, Mrs. Brown. I'm learning to play the pianoforte."
    "That is excellent, for I also love music very much. I see there is a pianoforte right over there. Perhaps you would be so kind as to play a song for me? I would enjoy that very much."
    Amelia glanced up uncertainly at her father, who gave her a reassuring nod. "Of course, Mrs. Brown," she whispered. "I've just learned a new piece."
    Kate followed the child over to the instrument, trying not to sigh aloud in relief. If she was concentrating on Miss Amelia's music, she wouldn't have to