Autumn in California was so much more subtle than autumn in England, Nanny decided as she hung the sheets out on the line to dry. For one thing, there were any number of trees that simply didn’t shed their leaves – evergreens and palm trees included. For another, the weather at this time of year had a tendency to be warmer than usual – virtually summer-like. Locals called the condition “Santa Ana Winds” – where the breezes came from over the warmer deserts rather than off of the Pacific Ocean.

Still, despite the fact that the seasons were so different – despite the fact that one had to be paying attention to really see the changes that told one from the other – she was happy. She’d been in Los Angeles for almost four years now, and she was starting to get used to the way the weather worked – to the point that going out into the worst rainstorm last winter had made her feel as if she were freezing. To think of returning to snow banks and ice skating rinks was uncomfortable.

Thoughts of such a return to extreme and distinct seasonal changes had been on her mind a great deal lately. They’d arisen despite the general rush to finish the back-to-school shopping for the children and making sure that all of the Professor’s sports coats and trousers had been checked for needed repairs before the new semester at the University started. It wasn’t surprising, however, that she’d been thinking along those lines. A progression of telephone calls from relatives far and wide, checking up on her and testing the waters to see if there was a reason that she’d not declared this post finished and moved on to her next employer, had been the cause.

The telephone began to chime in the front hallway, and Nanny sighed. She had been expecting this call sooner or later – it was Chomondeley. She’d put him off two years earlier, telling him that she wasn’t ready to leave Los Angeles to marry him. No doubt he was calling to see if NOW weren’t a better time for them to finally act upon that betrothal made in their names while infants. She eyed her clothesbasket and the two sheets still awaiting pinning up, considering just not answering the telephone – and then sighed before heading in through the back door. Chomondeley would know, and the delay would only make matters worse.

“I was hoping you’d answer,” he stated immediately the moment she picked up the receiver.

“I was hoping you’d have spoken to the others by now,” she rejoined with another sigh, settling into the chair next to the telephone table. “I told you two years ago I wasn’t ready yet – and the Everetts still aren’t ready for me to leave them.”

“We’ve never lied to each other, Phoebe,” Chomondeley chided her very softly.

“I’m not lying,” she protested. “They’re not ready.”

“But you’re not telling the entire truth, are you?” he pressed.

Nanny had no answer for him. She closed her blue eyes and rested her forehead against her right hand. “Chomondeley…”

“I HAVE spoken to the others – and almost all of them tell me the same thing: that they’re certain that the reason you haven’t moved in the last four years is that you’ve fallen in love with your American professor. I need to hear it from you, though.” His voice was still soft and gentle, and yet subtlety hurt. “Is it true?”

“I don’t know,” she answered with a note of anguish. “I’ve tried so hard not to…”

“Phoebe,” he replied after a long moment, “I’ve thought about this a great deal in the last year or so, and I’ve come to a decision that the time has come for you to make a choice. We both know that sometimes the heart will go where the heart will go, and no amount of obligation or force will make it go otherwise. If this American is truly where your heart lies, then you need to admit it – to yourself as well as to me.” He paused. “We both need to think about the direction our lives are going – now and in the future.”

“I don’t want to be the one to break my word…”

“But Phoebe, my dear, technically it isn’t YOUR word you’d be breaking; merely the terms of our betrothal.”

“It’s the same thing,” she answered dully. “An oath is a bond.”

“I know that,” Chomondeley soothed. “But the time has come for you to know your own heart – and follow where it leads. If back to me, then you must tell your American family farewell so that you can come home and be married. If not…”

“How long?” she asked in a whisper.

“I give you a month,” he challenged gently. “I’ll be there in Los Angeles in one month’s time, and you can tell me your verdict then. And you must choose, Phoebe,” he cautioned. “one way or the other. I give you the freedom to choose what you really want – and a promise that I’ll be content with your decision. I just want resolution to this impasse – and I think you owe it to the relatives as well as to the American family you’ve been with.”

One month! Such a little time! Her forehead returned to rest in her hand. “One month,” she repeated with dread.

“It should be time enough for you to listen to your own heart and know where it’s leading you. Oh, and by the way,” he added, “your mum and dad send their love.”

“Thank you,” she told him, not exactly certain if the gratitude extended for more than just the passed-along greeting from her parents. “I’ll see you in a month, then.”

“Until then. Tah…” The other end of the line was disconnected.

Nanny slowly put the telephone receiver back on the cradle and slumped back into the chair. One month was all the time she’d been given to choose between remaining here in Los Angeles with the Everetts or bidding them farewell and returning to England, ostensibly to become Chomondeley’s bride. HOW was she to go about choosing? It was all well and good to live here, in the Everett house, caring for the family as a whole – she’d never known quite the same kind of satisfaction that she’d found in seeing children moving from one phase of their youth to the next. She had never stayed so long in one place to experience such a thing before. It was, however, another thing entirely to have to choose blindly and stake her future on whether or not she believed the Professor had feelings for her that he’d so far managed not to express clearly, or whether such feelings were likely to emerge in the future.

As for her own heart, she didn’t even want to think about that. She already knew that her heart had been seriously conflicted ever since Chomondeley had made his surprise visit two years earlier. That visit had brought into focus the fact that she was less than anxious to spend the rest of time with her childhood friend – the boy next door. Prudence’s sobs at seeing her in her wedding dress had pierced her heart in a way no child’s pleading with her to stay ever had – as had the expression on the Professor’s face as he’d watched her come down the stairs in that same wedding dress. Their anguish at what should have been a happy time for her – and the way that anguish had affected her – had made her stop and take notice.

She could still hear the Professor quizzing Chomondeley on his job, his plans, how he intended to take care of her as his wife. Not until that very moment had she ever thought that the formerly intoxicating lack of details and fore-planning that had once been the defining quality of HER life could ever sound almost frighteningly inadequate. It was on that evening that she’d understood what the Professor was hearing from his perspective – even though she knew exactly why Chomondeley had answered the way he had – and understood why the Professor had been less than impressed with her English beau.

Slowly she rose to her feet. There were two sheets still wadded in the bottom of her clothesbasket that needed hanging out to dry, and a batch of cookies needed preparing before Butch launched his invitation that would have five hungry youngsters piling into her kitchen after school that afternoon. While she figured out what she was going to have to do, life was going to continue apace – which for the Everetts, could mean anything from a stable routine to absolute chaos.

And something told her that her days of stable routine were finished – at least, for the time being.

~~~~~~~~~*

“Dad, we need to talk to you,” Hal announced, walking into his father’s study at the head of the tight knot of three children.

Harold Everett looked up from grading test papers and let his gaze bounce from one face to the next. “Looks serious,” he commented in hopes of raising a smile – with no luck.

“Something’s wrong with Nanny,” Prudence, his eight-year-old declared defensively.

“She doesn’t smile as much anymore,” Butch, his middle son – and the one most likely to get into mischief – nodded agreement with his sister. “She’s almost quiet.”

Everett’s eyebrows climbed his forehead as he put his red pencil on the desk in front of him. Now that he thought about it, she HAD been less than her normal, ebullient self. “Have you considered that she’s just tired or something?”

Hal, oldest and most rational of the three, shook his head firmly. “She hasn’t changed any of her habits, Dad. It’s like…” His words failed while he searched for an adequate equivalent.

“She’s cloudy,” Butch stated flatly. “No more stories about her relatives, no more stories at all. Just quick answers and then she gets back to work.” The shorter boy heaved a heavy sigh. “It’s been days now, Dad…”

“Almost a whole week,” Hal agreed.

“All right,” Everett folded his hands in front of him. “What do you want me to do?”

“Make her smile again, Daddy,” Prudence urged, running to her father and putting an imploring hand on his arm.

“Do something nice for her,” Butch suggested, “maybe take her out to dinner or something…”

“Talk to her,” was Hal’s answer, his blue eyes impacting those of his father’s squarely. “Maybe she’ll tell you what’s going on.”

Even Waldo, the quintessential walking carpet of a sheepdog, barked his assent from the study doorway.

“My goodness, you all really are serious!” Everett shook his head as he rose. “Very well – I’ll go see what she has to say. Where is she now?”

“In the kitchen, finishing putting the dishes away,” Prudence answered. “She was helping me study for my spelling test while I dried – but I can’t reach some of the places up high…”

“All right – I’ll see what I can do,” Everett promised, just as the telephone began to ring.

“It’s Dr. Harper for you, Professor,” Nanny’s voice floated out from the kitchen.

“Dad…” Butch and Hal groaned together.

“I’ll talk to her in a moment,” their father promised and walked out into the hallway to take the call. “Hello?”

“Harold.” It was Marjorie Harper, just as Nanny had foretold. Everett shook himself – he should be over the almost spooky way Nanny knew exactly what was going on in his household at any one moment in time.

“Marj. What can I do for you?” he asked, rallying his thoughts. Marj was another mathematics professor – and she was going to be his date for the big faculty soiree that next Saturday night. He needed to at least sound engaged and interested.

“You can be as understanding as you are sweet,” Marjorie’s voice came at him in a sultry flood. “I’ve had a call from my brother in Houston, and I need to catch the next plane out.”

“Oh?” Everett’s eyebrows rose again for the second time in just a few minutes. “What’s the matter?”

“My mother fell on her way to bingo last night, and she’s broken her hip. She needs me to be there for a while – until I can make arrangements for some kind of in-home care if she is going to be convalescing for a long time.” Marjorie’s voice died for a moment. Then: “I’m not going to be able to make it to the faculty party Saturday, Harold, I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right,” Everett soothed his best friend in the Mathematics Department. “You need to take care of family concerns first – there will always be another party next year.”

He could almost hear the purring across the phone lines. “You are such a pussycat, Harold.”

“Let me know if I can help out in any way…”

“Actually,” she almost interrupted him, “I was hoping I could sweet-talk you into taking over my lab hours too. Daphne was scheduled, but she’s had the ‘flu…”

Everett shook his head. “I’ll do it,” he told her. “You just go home and take care of your mom. What are your hours this week?”

“This evening,” she answered, sounding genuinely apologetic at last, “and Thursday as well.”

“Ah well – I suppose I can grade papers just as easily at the U as I can here at home,” Everett sighed. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“You are a peach! Thanks, Harold – I owe you one.”

“Dad!” came a chorus of outraged complaint the moment he hung the phone up. “You were going to go talk to Nanny…” Prudence continued the thought.

He shook his head at his kids. “I can’t right now, kids. There’s been an emergency at the school and I have to go supervise lab hours.” He reached for his sports jacket hanging from the coat rack. “I’ll talk to Nanny, I promise,” he swore when he saw that, as far as his children were concerned, this family emergency outweighed any crisis at the university. “Tonight, if I get home in time – tomorrow at the latest.” He swept the test papers and the answer key into his briefcase and headed for the front door. “I’ll see you all at breakfast tomorrow.”

The look of frustration and impotence on his children’s faces as he pulled the door closed between himself and them stayed with him as he drove the few short miles to the university campus. If the kids were so upset as to actually cooperate and confront him with their concerns together, just what had he been missing lately?

He knew he’d been a little preoccupied of late. The previous head of the Mathematics Department had suffered a heart attack and left for back east with his wife – another mathematics professor – to live closer to their children. He’d been appointed to take over the position of the head of the department a little over a month ago – and just getting a handle on all the extra political and nuisance duties of the position had been trying. Not the least of those duties had been to conduct the interviews of the applicants for the two empty positions, as well as those for the graduate teaching positions of lower-division classes. Had his professional concerns made him blind to problems slowly emerging at home?

And now he had the faculty soiree to look forward to WITHOUT a date. That would, no doubt, raise eyebrows within the staid little academic community. It had never been a problem when his wife, Tanya, had been alive – but since she’d died, the female faculty of the university had viewed him as if a fresh slab of meat had been thrown on the counter with a ‘For Sale’ sign plastered to his forehead. To protect himself, he’d made a habit of asking one of the other unattached professors to accompany him. This year he’d asked Marjorie to accompany him – mostly because he had been hired the same year she had, and the two of them had struck an easy friendship early on. There had been a brief moment in time when he’d dated her informally, but he’d had no wish to continue that practice for the last couple of years – except to ask her to go with him to the last faculty soiree. When he’d asked her to accompany him this year as well, he’d decided living with inaccurate speculation about his love life would be easier than having to find someone else to go with that he enjoyed being with less. Now, however…

Capriciously, his mind returned to the problem his children had presented him – Nanny’s mood swing. His lips quirked as a totally irreverent thought occurred to him – a solution to two of his problems at once, perhaps: he could take Nanny to the faculty soiree as his date and use the occasion to speak to her privately. As a matter of fact, the more he thought about it, the more the idea appealed to him. The sight of him in the company of a woman otherwise uninvolved with the university would quell quite a few of the matchmaking efforts of some of the older women in the offices – not to mention that Phoebe Figalilly was a beautiful woman in her own right.

It was settled, then, in his mind. He would ask Nanny to the faculty function. His kids wouldn’t be able to be frustrated with him for long then either – he WAS seeing to the problem as best as he could.

~~~~~~~~*

“Me?!” Nanny’s blue eyes were wide with shock. “Why me?”

“Because I’m thinking that you don’t get many opportunities to get out of the house and just enjoy yourself,” Everett answered as convincingly as he knew how. “This is a function at which I need to appear with a date – and…”

“I thought you were going with Dr. Harper,” Nanny countered quietly.

“Dr. Harper won’t be able to attend this year,” Everett answered a little less comfortably. “She has had family problems and has had to leave the area for the time being. She won’t be back until long after…”

“But I’m just your housekeeper…”

“Are you saying that you don’t want to go?” the Professor asked her with some surprise. Maybe the kids had a valid concern – Nanny was always so fun loving and willing to try new things…

“That isn’t it,” she shook her head.

“Then what is it?” he asked.

Nanny just stared at him. How could she tell him that she didn’t want to be his second choice – a convenient substitute when the one he had chosen to take to such an affair was unavailable?

“Look…” Everett wished he dared step closer to her, take her hand. “The more I thought about it, the more I like the idea of your coming with me. For one thing, you’re a very attractive woman – one that any man would feel very proud and honored to be allowed to escort to a dinner and dance…”

“There are a good number of attractive women at the university, Professor,” Nanny reminded him.

“I’m very aware of that,” he agreed ruefully. “Each one of them has been dropping lures into the waters for years hoping to catch my eye – to the point that I’m starting to feel that I’m a more white elephant sales item than anything else.”

“Oh, Professor…” She laughed, and Everett suddenly realized that his children were right – it had been a while since he’d heard the crystal chime of her laugh. “What a verbal picture you paint.”

“So, will you please accompany me to the faculty dinner and dance, Miss Figalilly?” he asked formally, reaching out and taking her hand and bowing over it.

Nanny sobered quickly. This was an addictive moment, the kind she’d been going out of her way to avoid. Perhaps, however, in light of Chomondeley’s ultimatum… “Very well, Professor,” she answered quietly, “I’ll go with you – if you’re sure…”

“Very sure,” he replied immediately. “Good! I’ll make arrangements for Mrs. Fowler to be on phone alert in case of any emergencies – but I think Hal can take care of his brother and sister for a few hours by himself.”

“He is almost sixteen,” Nanny nodded. “The time is coming when he needs to start taking some responsibilities.”

“Dinner starts on Saturday at six-thirty,” Everett announced and then smiled. She probably already knew that. “We should try to be there about a half-hour ahead of time – it gives us time to mingle a little ahead of time.”

His housekeeper’s blue eyes began to sparkle a little. “I’ll be ready whenever you wish, Professor,” she told him with a small smile.

The Professor was riveted by her gaze and almost without thinking of it, bent over her hand and dropped a very careful kiss onto the back of it. Nanny blushed slightly and reclaimed her hand from his keeping. “I need to…” she muttered and fled up the stairs toward her room. It WAS late, and she was tired…

~~~~~~~~*

“Well?” Everett queried his oldest son.

“She’s a little better,” the young man answered after thinking for a moment. “I saw her smiling to herself while she made supper last night – and that’s the first time I’ve seen that for almost a week now.”

The Professor nodded in satisfaction. “We’ll see what comes up in conversation during dinner at the faculty event. Maybe I’ll have some sort of explanation for you – even if it’s one of her Nanny’s Special Reasons, like the tree frogs weren’t croaking in the right key or something.”

His blonde and nearly sixteen year old son gave him a look of skepticism and dismay. “As long as Nanny starts acting more like Nanny again…” he stated and then let his father draw his own conclusions as to how the statement would or should end.

Professor Everett paused before walking into the kitchen for his breakfast, just so he could observe what was going on in the room before becoming a participant. Nanny was standing at the stove, stirring something in the frying pan that smelled delightfully of her special scrambled eggs recipe. He couldn’t see the expression on her face, but even he could see that her posture wasn’t as fatigued as it had been the past few days.

“Your coffee is already poured and on the counter,” Nanny stated without moving a muscle to turn around. “I’ll have your eggs ready here in a moment.”

The Professor smiled to himself, not at all surprised to have been found out so easily. “Where are the kids?” he asked as he walked over to claim his coffee cup.

“Hal you’ve already spoken to,” she told him as if surprised he’d asked, “Butch and Prudence left for their bus stop almost five minutes ago.”

“And how are you doing today, Nanny,” Everett asked, moving to stand behind her and watch her movements at the stove over her shoulder.

“I’m doing well, as you’ve already discovered in your talk with Hal,” she answered, scooping a healthy portion of the eggs onto a plate next to two slices of buttered toast and turning to hand his food to him. “There’s really nothing to worry about, you know – there’s been absolutely nothing wrong with the tree frogs for months.”

“You’re sure?” the Professor asked meaningfully. “You have the kids pretty worried.”

She looked away and set about dishing herself up the rest of the eggs onto a plate that had but one slice of toast on it. “There’s nothing wrong with me,” she told him, hoping that he wouldn’t try to pin her down with the children’s observations. She was frankly surprised and appalled that they’d collectively gone to him with their concerns in the first place.

The Professor shook his head even as he moved to the kitchen table and took his regular seat. “That’s not what the kids were telling me a few days ago,” he disagreed gently, watching her follow him. “They said that you’ve been… not yourself.”

“I was a little preoccupied for a while,” she admitted vaguely, taking her own seat after claiming the other mug of coffee on the counter. “Don’t you have to be to the university early today, to substitute at Doctor Harding’s nine o’clock class?”

“You’re changing the subject,” he chided gently.

“You’re the head of the department now,” she countered. “At the very least, you need to make arrangements for someone to tell Doctor Harding’s students that there won’t be any class today and to expect a substitute until further notice.”

“A simple phone call to my secretary will manage that one, Nanny,” the Professor informed her after swallowing some of the delicious eggs. “Back to the issue at hand…”

“My Uncle Charles used to always rely on his secretary too,” Nanny busied herself with her eggs, “until the day he discovered that his secretary had assumed many of the responsibilities that HE was supposed to be doing – and then stole his position and salary.” She gazed at him meaningfully.

“Is it something serious?” Everett pressed, undeterred.

Nanny shook her head as she sipped at her coffee. “I told you that it was nothing…”

“Then you can explain it to me, so that I can tell the kids that we’ve spoken and that I agree that you were just in a blue funk – or whatever they call it these days.”

“I wasn’t in a blue flunk…” she complained.

“When the kids start complaining that you’re not telling stories anymore…” he countered.

“Professor…”

“Talk to me,” he urged gently. “Maybe I can help.”

Nanny forced herself to look down into her plate of food. He could help – he could give her some indications that if she chose to stay in America, there would be something for her to remain FOR – but that wasn’t something she could ask of him. Not now. “I’m a bit on the horns of a dilemma,” she allowed finally, “and I suppose I’ve been more preoccupied than usual.”

Everett finished his eggs and continued to munch on his toast. “What kind of dilemma?”

“A difficult one, a decision needs to be made,” she replied deliberately vaguely. “But I have some time yet – and I don’t want my problems to shortchange the children. I didn’t mean to worry them.”

“You aren’t going to tell me anything specific, are you?” he exclaimed with frustration.

She shook her head. “You have enough on your plate to find an substitute for Doctor Harper’s lab hours and classes for the time she’s going to be gone. You don’t need me heaping my issues on your head too.”

“I don’t mind…”

“I appreciate that,” she answered, her smile a little lighter, a little warmer. “Now, if you intend to call your secretary…”

Everett grimaced as he rose from the kitchen table. “Answer me this much,” he insisted. “Whatever your dilemma is, it isn’t going to interfere with your going with me to the faculty event tomorrow night, is it?”

“No, Professor,” Nanny was able to answer honestly, “it has nothing to do with that at all.”

She watched him accept her assurance and head to the telephone. Stay and take her chances, she threw up in her mind, or go home to the future she’d always expected to be hers eventually? Did she WANT to feel bound by a betrothal made in her name when she was too tiny to speak for herself? Then she shook herself and gathered the dishes from the kitchen table. She still had two weeks left to make up her mind – time enough to think about this after doing dishes.

~~~~~~~~*

“How do I look?” Everett asked his three wide-eyed kids, brushing his hands down the front of his tuxedo jacket self-consciously.

“You look GOOD!” Prudence exclaimed with a wide gesture. “You look like some of those guys on TV.”

“This was a good idea,” Butch chimed in, “taking Nanny out to something special.”

The Professor’s gaze collided with that of his oldest son, and Hal’s nod of approval was silent and reassuring. “Don’t worry about having to get home so soon,” the tall teen told his father. “We’ll be just fine here – and Mrs. Fowler said that she’d be right over if we had to call for help.”

Everett tipped his hand over to peer at his wristwatch. He was about to call up the stairs for Nanny to make haste finishing her preparations when he caught sight of her stepping around the corner into sight to come down the stairs – and his breath caught. Her blue velvet gown hung alluringly on her frame, accentuating womanly curves that he’d only barely noticed before. The vivid blue of the gown also drew out and made more startling the vivid blue of her eyes, sparkling beneath golden curls that were piled high on her head and tumbled in carefree abandon down her neck. “I’m ready when you are, Professor,” she announced in a soft voice that made the Professor’s heart thump hard.

“Wow!” Butch made no secret of his opinion. “You’re gorgeous!” The towheaded lad turned to his dad. “She’s a lot prettier than Doctor Harding, Dad!”

“You’re beautiful, Nanny,” Prudence agreed with eyes made wide. “You’re even prettier than you were in that wedding gown…”

Nanny was perfectly contented to see that she’d managed to startle the Professor out of his complacent view of her. His eyes had a new warmth behind them that was unfamiliar – almost a possessive light she’d never seen before and wasn’t sure that she didn’t find highly attractive. “Doctor Harding is a very lovely lady, Butch,” she chided in a soft voice.

“Butch is right – you’re stunning,” the Professor blurted without preamble, which had her blushing immediately. Only belatedly did he notice that she had a thin, white shawl in her hands – and he retrieved it from her with numb fingers and opened it so as to wrap her shoulders protectively. “Ready?”

“Yes.” The word, spoken in a low and silken tone, was another shock to the Professor’s system.

It took a moment to remember not to keep an arm wrapped around her, but to catch her elbow in a large hand. He felt her turn slightly into his guiding hand, and for a second wished he dared not take her to the faculty event, but rather to one of the best restaurants in the area for a more private evening of dining and perhaps dancing. Suddenly he didn’t want to share her with a crowd of people, but wanted to keep her strictly for himself. He shook himself – what was happening here?

When had he started to think this way about his bubbly English Nanny and housekeeper?

~~~~~~~~*

“Harold!” Jim Hightower was the first to catch sight of the new arrivals in the ballroom of the local Hilton. He pumped the Professor’s hand vigorously and then looked up at his friend in surprise. “And who is this beauty – and where have you been hiding her?”

“This is Phoebe,” the Professor introduced her, watching with a slight stab of jealousy when the aging Physics professor bowed gallantly over Nanny’s hand. “Phoebe, this is Jim Hightower, from the Physics department – one of my oldest and dearest friends.”

“Nice to meet you,” Nanny murmured, a little unnerved by hearing the Professor address her by name for a change.

“You’d better keep a close watch on this lovely lady, my boy,” Hightower leaned into Everett’s ear. “The wolves will take her away from you in a heartbeat if you’re not careful.”

“I have no intentions of giving any of them the slightest chance, believe me,” Everett exclaimed in response with more vehemence than he’d felt in a long time. His right hand snaked unconsciously around Nanny’s waist in a loose yet possessive embrace.

“You make a very handsome couple, my dear,” Hightower then announced with a conspiratorial grin at Nanny. “And Harold’s one of my favorite people. He deserves the best – and it looks like he’s finally found the best.”

“Thank you, you’re very kind,” Nanny blushed and smiled shyly.

“Oh, to be young and carefree again,” he chuckled and gave the Professor a hearty thump on the back before moving along.

“He’s a very kind man,” Nanny remarked as the Professor’s arm about her guided her to a small table off to the side of the dance floor.

“He’s also right,” Everett told her seriously. “I’m going to have to keep an eagle eye on you. There are those who would just love to make time with a beautiful woman like you, regardless of whether their wives are in the room or not. And incidentally,” he added as an afterthought, “for tonight, my name is Harold – not Professor or Professor Everett. Tonight I’m not your employer – I’m your escort.”

She tipped her head as he helped her shed her shawl onto the back of a chair. “Harold,” she tried in a near whisper and then smiled at him. “I’ll try to remember.”

Once more, the Professor felt the sudden urge to spirit her out of this ballroom that would soon be filled by university faculty and staff and take her somewhere very private and quiet. He needed to get her someplace where he could try to figure out why he was suddenly feeling either as awkward and tongue-tied as a teenager on his first date or protective as any male would be guarding his mate.

Nanny tucked her hand into the crook of Everett’s elbow. “We should mingle, should we not?” she asked him with a look of encouragement.

By the end of the half-hour of mingling that preceded the dinner being served, the Professor found ample reason to be both pleased with and impressed by his choice of dinner companion for the evening. Nanny – Phoebe, he reminded himself – had kept her hand tucked into his arm, never straying even an inch from his side; and had been a quiet jewel knowing when to remain silent and when to comment astutely within the context of the conversation. She was far more knowledgeable than he’d ever imagined and perfectly able to express herself intelligently on any number of subjects – and had, evidently, left her stories of her wacky family behind.

They shared their dinner table with another couple, of which the woman was a Biology professor. Conversation was light and easy, and both the Professor and Nanny found themselves relaxing into their more intimate role as a dating couple. The university had hired in a small band that sounded very professional, and the music began about the time the dishes from dinner were finally cleared away, leaving wine glasses and the carafe that the foursome had been sharing.

The Professor rose and extended his hand down to Nanny. “Would you care to dance?” he asked gallantly.

Her blue gaze touched his with hesitant gladness. “I haven’t danced in a very long time,” she demurred, wondering at the way her heart had sped up slightly when he’d taken her hand in his.

“It’s like riding a bicycle,” Everett stated with the tiniest of upwards tugs on her hand, “you never really forget.”

With that, Nanny rose and let her handsome companion escort her over to the slightly raised dance floor, in front of the band now playing a sedate waltz. It certainly had been a long time, she decided as the Professor – Harold, she reminded herself quickly – put his hand on her waist and caught her right hand in his left, and then smiled at her as her left hand found his shoulder. He’d been correct, however, as her feet caught the rhythm of the music, and she began to let him guide her expertly about the dance floor.

“You see,” Everett allowed himself to gloat slightly. “Not only have you not forgotten, but you’re really very good.”

“It helps to have a capable partner,” she responded in a soft voice.

He cleared his throat. “Now that I have you someplace private, where we don’t have to worry about anybody interrupting us for a while…” he began, and her blue eyes flew up to meet his, “perhaps you can tell me about that dilemma of yours.”

Nanny looked away to where her left hand rested on his shoulder lightly. “Pro… Harold…” she caught herself even as she complained in almost a whisper.

“I can understand your not wanting to discuss your problem with your employer,” he continued on, deciding to turn on the charm to convince her to confide in him, “but that fellow’s not around at the moment.” He smiled down at her rather startled gaze. “I’m your date for the evening – or have you forgotten?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten,” she responded in a soft and low voice that made him want to pull her closer to him. “It just…” She sighed. He wasn’t just going to drop the topic. Very well, she closed her eyes in defeat; there really was no other way around this. “I’ll be having a visitor in a little over a week,” she announced.

“Oh?” Everett wished she would look at him. “Who’s coming to dinner?”

“Chomondeley.”

It took every last ounce of discipline he had to keep from tightening his hold on his beautiful dance partner. “What is he coming around again for?”

Now she did look up into his eyes, and she finally let him see just how conflicted she was. “He wants me to make a choice.”

Had he heard that correctly? “A choice,” he repeated. When she nodded, he pushed harder. “A choice about what?”

“Him,” she replied briefly and meaningfully.

The Professor’s hand slipped just a little bit further about her waist. “He wants you to go with him - to marry him.” It wasn’t a question.

She nodded. “Like many of the rest of my family, he’s grown concerned that I’m still here,” she said, blushing slightly and looking back at her hand on his shoulder.

“Do you want to marry him?” It was a question he’d wanted to ask her two years ago.

“We’re betrothed, Pr…” The issue of direct address seemed suddenly to confound her. “It has never been a question of ‘want’ before.”

Everett heard the qualifier. “But now?”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted, her blush becoming a little more pronounced.

“You know that none of us here want you to leave, don’t you?” Everett stated as clearly as he knew how. “We need you – now more than ever.”

“I know that…”

“How can you think of leaving…”

“Oh, Professor!” she sighed and looked back up into his face. His eyes still had that strange, almost possessive light behind them – along with an expression of distress, evidently at the thought of her possible departure. “I wish it were as simple as that. There are plenty of reasons for me not to leave – I know that. But there aren’t quite so many for me to s…” She caught back the last word of her statement, afraid that she’d finally said too much.

Everett stared down at her. She had reasons to not leave, but none to stay – was that what she was saying? “What kind of reason do you want to stay?” he asked softly.

The blue gazes delved deeply into each other. “It isn’t for me to say,” she managed finally – and then tore her gaze from his as the music ended. “I need to… Excuse me.” She pulled her hands away from him. “I’ll be right back – just a quick trip to the powder room,” she explained self-consciously and then beat a hasty retreat toward the short hallway where the amenities were located. Somehow, she needed to get her composure back.

The Professor watched with a bemused and thoughtful expression on his face as she wove her way through the tables and then turned to make his way back to where they’d been sitting. He wished he knew more about how she felt and how she thought – considering the way he’d been guarding her all night and how the mere thought of Chomondeley once more coming into the picture had upset everything, something was definitely going on inside HIM.

Where were these feelings that were welling up inside him coming from – had he always harbored possessive feelings toward Phoebe Figalilly? Had that jolt that had gone through his entire body when she’d mentioned the name of her betrothed been one of jealousy? And if it was, did he have a reason for her to stay after all? Would she consider staying for him – for all of them – as something more than a mere employee?

He raised his head to glance toward the doors through which he expected her to return any moment now. He’d never felt this way toward any of the other women he’d taken out over the years – possessive, territorial – and as if standing at the edge of a precipice. In a fit of brutal honesty, he realized that it would be very easy for him to let himself fall in love with his beautiful Nanny – and the only thing stopping him from acting on that realization was his ignorance of how SHE would feel about such a thing.

Had she been able to tell that his heart had been beating harder and faster while he’d held her in his arms on the dance floor? It had been such a long time since he’d felt anything like this – since the days of courting his wife… That was it! For the first time, he’d put them both in a position to ignore the parameters of their relationship – parameters that had kept them very firmly in the position of employer and employee – and he was enjoying pulling closer to her. He’d once feared her falling victim to an infatuation – one or two of the housekeepers who had come before her had done just that, causing all kinds of uncomfortable moments – and here he was, daydreaming about HER instead. Did she daydream about him from time to time?

He frowned. Where WAS she?

He rose and made his way through the tables and finally through the doors to the short hallway where the ladies room was located. He heard a small squeak of complaint through the double doors beyond – out in the hotel lobby – and followed it. A single peek was all it took to see that Nanny had been forced up against a wall and was struggling to get her wrist free from the clutches of a very drunk Simon Carroll, head of the English Department and faculty Lothario.

“There you are,” he announced loudly, startling Carroll badly and bringing Nanny’s face up to gaze at him in mute desperation. “I was starting to wonder where you’d gotten to.” He moved to her side and put out his hand. “You promised me the next dance.” He stared with a hard face into Carroll’s bleary eyes. “Excuse me – my date must have taken a wrong turn there.”

If Simon Carroll had been thinking of complaining, the sight of a completely sober and thoroughly disgusted Harold Everett convinced him otherwise. “Just tryin’ to socialize with the lady,” the drunk blurted defensively and slunk back and away from the woman whom he’d had pressed against a wall. “Din’ know she was with anybody important…”

Nanny grasped Everett’s hand tightly and let him pull her away from the wall – away from the man who had accosted her – and into a gentle embrace. “Let’s go back in,” she urged softly with a slight tremor in her voice. “I do still owe you at least one dance.”

Everett circled his arm about her shoulders and, hanging onto her other hand with his, sheltered her as they walked back through the double doors and down the short hallway. “Are you OK?” he asked her the moment the two of them were alone in the hallway.

“I shall be,” she said in a breathy voice that told clearly of her distress and upset.

“We can go home, if you want,” he assured her.

“I’d really like to stay, if it’s all the same to you, P… Harold,” she insisted, forcing a little more control into her voice. “I haven’t had an evening out quite so pleasant for a long time now. Don’t let that little man out there ruin it for the both of us.” She straightened her back beneath his arm. “I’m fine now.” And with eyes warm with concern, Everett could see that she truly was – very fine indeed.

They moved through and back into the ballroom. “Would you prefer to sit and have another glass of wine and relax a bit?”

She looked up into his face and smiled bravely. The drunk had caught her off guard and had frightened her badly. She wasn’t often so careless – and having Professor Everett come to her rescue had been one of the most exhilarating moments of her life. “I think I’d like that, yes,” she replied, indulging herself into the slightest of leans into the embrace that continued to shelter her as her way of saying thank you.

Everett’s arm tightened as he felt her lean into him. Hightower’s warning had been very apropos – and he wouldn’t be making the same mistake again. N… Phoebe was too much of a treasure to leave unguarded for even a moment. But if staying and enjoying the rest of the evening is what she wanted, then he’d make sure that the rest of her evening was problem-free and relaxing. No more talk about Chomondeley or what she wanted.

That could wait until later.

~~~~~~~~*

The drive home was made in a companionable silence. Both had danced long into the night, enjoying each other’s company and the freedom from the press of family responsibilities; and now both were feeling the fatigue of the late night hour pulling at them. “I want you to know that I enjoyed myself immensely,” Nanny said finally as the Professor turned the car onto the street where his home was located.

“I did too,” he admitted with a quick and warm smile shot toward the passenger seat next to him. “I’m thinking that I’d like for this not to be an isolated incident between us…”

“Professor…”

“Harold,” he corrected with a shake of his head. “The clock hasn’t struck midnight yet, and the coach hasn’t turned back into a pumpkin.”

“Harold,” she repeated obediently. “I’m not sure if it would be wise…”

“You said you needed a reason to stay,” he stated quietly and seriously. “I’d like to think that if we spent more time together, just the two of us, maybe you could find that reason.”

“Isn’t what you’re suggesting against the rules you set up when I first came to you?” she asked, turning wide eyes on him. Those rules had prevented her from saying so very much in the days following the phone call from Chomondeley.

He carefully steered the car into the driveway and in front of the garage door behind which was Nanny’s car, and then turned off the engine and turned to look at her directly in the dim light of the outside light. “I’m starting to think that we’ve outgrown those rules, frankly. The situation they were meant to address never materialized – we don’t need them anymore.”

“We don’t?” She had to move away from him, and she opened her car door and slipped to her feet in the chilled night air, heading for the back door.

Everett frowned briefly. After the gentle informality and almost intimacy of the evening, having her suddenly distance herself from him was a shock. He climbed from behind the wheel and walked quickly to catch up to her, finding it was taking real self-discipline not to reach out to her and pull her to a halt and into his arms. “Tell me,” he asked in a voice that had gone soft and low, “if I could give you a reason to stay, would you tell Chumley that you would?”

“Would…?”

“Would stay here, with us?”

Nanny stopped in her tracks and turned to stare at him. What was he suggesting – did she dare hope that maybe her heart wasn’t the only one conflicted after all? “What reason?” she asked quietly.

“Because you’d found somebody else.” Everett held his breath – the words had slipped out before he could stop them, and now they were said.

Nanny’s blue eyes grew wide again, and she stood her ground and gazed into his eyes. “Who would that be?” was her next question.

“Me.”

The bluntness took her very much by surprise. Where were her trusted skills of anticipation, now that she needed them so desperately? When had the Professor become willing to insert himself into her future so completely? “What about you?” she countered the moment her mind was able to function again.

“What about me?” he parried.

“It’s one thing to say I’ve found someone else – quite another to put myself in a situation where what I feel is unrequited. As you mentioned when you set up your rules, you don’t need another housekeeper mooning after you…”

“Damn it.” Everett couldn’t think of a way to explain himself, so he finally indulged his urge and stepped closer to her so that he could bend and kiss her very gently. Raising his head slightly, he gazed at her to gauge her reaction – and when she merely gazed back at him with neither revulsion nor rejection, he lifted a hand to the side of her face and bent to kiss her again. Her lips were soft against his and moved beneath his in the tiniest of hints of response. “Don’t you see,” he whispered urgently to her practically into her ear, “the thought of you with someone else is almost more than I can handle. If you stayed, I can guarantee that you’d not be left with your feelings unrequited.”

Nanny’s heart was pounding hard in her chest. The kisses she’ d just received were gentle and innocent ones, experimental on both sides as if not sure whether such things would be welcome – and yet they had awakened every nerve ending in her body that had already been given plenty to deal with during the several slow dances where she’d been, at least nominally, in his arms. “But you’ve said nothing before this…” she began lamely.

“I never even allowed myself to think about it. I didn’t think I had an opportunity to be heard – much less a reason to speak,” he answered her honestly, his other hand moving to her waist where it had been so often previously in the evening. Suddenly he was standing very close. “I thought your betrothal was a done deal – that it was a question of when, not if.”

“So did I, until Chomondeley called,” she stated, held captive by his intense gaze. “It’s just that I hadn’t wanted to think about leaving…”

“Now you don’t have to think about it at all,” Everett insisted, his arm slipping to encircle her waist. “Right?”

“I don’t…” she started, but he bent to kiss her again – this time with a little more of the passion that he’d been working so hard to keep under control. Her eyes fell closed as the gentle kiss steadily became more demanding, and her hands automatically found the front of his tuxedo jacket. So this was what it was like to be kissed – REALLY kissed – she thought before he deepened the kiss even more and her ability to think clearly disintegrated.

Everett could feel the moment when she surrendered to his embrace in the way she leaned into him and then opened her lips to him, and he gently pulled her as close as he could. She was soft and warm in his arms, smelling of lavender and sunlit mornings, and tasting of the wine they’d both had that evening. He suddenly knew that there was no way that he’d ever allow her to give her hand to another without a fight. So much had been right about his life for the last few years – and now he was ready to claim the rest of it. The truth he’d been hiding from himself for too long was out where it could no longer be denied: he was in love with Phoebe Figalilly.

In all of her life, Nanny had never experienced such passion – not in the awkward and lust-driven fumblings of the many men over the years who had sought through strength or insistence to dominate her, and certainly not in the genteel and ever-so-proper embrace of the man to whom she’d spent her whole life betrothed. Her very body ached in a new and decidedly pleasurable manner as she felt him press himself against her – as he wrapped her tightly in one arm and held her close – and her arms became complicit by moving around his waist and holding him back. For the first time in her life, there wasn’t another place in the whole world she would rather be but right there in the P… Harold’s arms.

He felt her response become surer, more intoxicating; and only with great reluctance did he bring the kiss to an end. “Stay,” he urged in a breathy whisper directly and seductively into her ear. “Stay with me forever.” His lips caressed the tender and sensitive skin beneath her ear. “I love you, Phoebe Figalilly.”

That soft affirmation was like a key setting her soul free. “I love you,” she whispered back and then moaned as his lips closed over hers again in a fiery kiss where there was no further illusion of innocence. The hand that had cradled her head with fingers almost tangling in her curl moved to surround her completely, and she was crushed against Everett’s body so tightly that she could almost feel his heart beating with hers. In a flash she knew what her decision would be – to take the option that really had been the only one open to her, regardless of the Professor’s feelings. And now that she knew that he shared her feelings – now that her choice wasn’t being made blindly – there was no way that she’d agree to leave him to be with anybody else.

~~~~~~~~~*

“Are you sure it’s all right?” Butch asked his father again from the back seat of the car that had driven past his own house for the third time.

“What if she tells him she’s ready to marry him?” Prudence worried with a tone that spoke of a growing panic.

Everett glanced over at the passenger next to him. “Don’t tell me it doesn’t bother you that he’s there in the house with her – alone,” Hal commented dryly.

“I don’t think we have much to worry about from Chomondeley,” Everett replied hopefully, ignoring the astuteness of his eldest son’s question and the vague disquiet it unmasked within himself. “She said that she was going to tell him that she’d decided to stay here in LA – with US – and that he’d promised he’d abide by her decision. We need to trust her judgment.”

“Are you going to marry her, Daddy?” Prudence asked, her worry fading a little.

“Yes – we’ve already talked about this, remember?” Everett smiled at his little girl, who had attached herself so firmly to Nanny after two years of tormenting housekeepers and others hired to care for her.

“How long do you suppose he’s going to stay in there?” Hal asked, his eyes trained on the front door of his house.

“Knowing Nanny, she’s probably serving him tea,” Everett speculated, “which takes a while. C’mon now – you guys were going to tell me if you wanted ice cream or donuts.” He nosed the car away from the curb and steered it down the street, away from the house. “She asked for privacy – now let’s let her have some privacy. As soon as we know for sure he’s gone…”

Chomondeley’s head swiveled and he smiled sadly as he felt the pressure of the Everett family’s attention wane. “They don’t trust me!” he commented plaintively over the top of his tea cup.

“You’ve already tried to take me away from them once,” Nanny replied frankly. “They’re not happy about your getting another chance to convince me to change my mind.”

“Are you certain this is what you want?” he asked, his eye on the sparkling diamond ring that now graced her left hand. This American had certainly wasted no time or expense making sure it was obvious that she was spoken for.

“Oh yes,” she answered immediately. “There isn’t a doubt in my mind that I’m doing the right thing.”

The watery blue eyes studied the woman sitting primly next to him on the couch. She glowed, he decided. “Your decision seems to agree with you…”

Brilliant cerulean came up to meet his gaze and she smiled with her whole being. “I’m happy,” she told him simply, and then gazed at him in concern. “I only worry about you.”

“Oh, don’t,” he tossed out casually. “My mother has been making it a point to remind me daily that I’m a ‘good catch’ and that there are more fish in the sea.” He sipped at his tea and then carefully put the cup and saucer on the coffee table. “I’m not going to lie, however, and tell you that I’m happy about your decision. I’ve gotten very used to thinking of you as my eventual bride.” He smiled gamely. “Can’t do that any longer, I suppose.”

He rose, his tall and lanky frame unfolding like an Erector set. “And I should be off – your family will no doubt want to see that you’re still safely theirs, and I need to be off to my next call.”

“Will you come and visit again?” Nanny’s question was soft.

Chomondeley shook his head gently. “You’ve chosen your life, Phoebe, and it’s one in which I play no part. I’m a part of your past now – best that I stay there.” He walked to the door with her following him. “I do hope that your American makes you as happy as you deserve to be.”

Nanny opened the door for him. “And I hope that you find someone who makes you as happy as you deserve to be.”

He looked down at her and then bent to brush his lips across her cheek. “Goodbye, Phoebe Figalilly.”

“Goodbye, Chomondeley.” She stood in the doorway and waved him down her walk and across the street, turning away before he would hit his stride.

Quietly she closed the door and went back to the living room to collect the tea set. It’s done, she told herself in relief as she walked back toward the kitchen, and it can’t be undone. She’d already spoken to her mother that morning, letting her parents know of her decision before telling Chomondeley so that they would get the news from her, not him. That had been hard, telling those who loved her so dearly they’d tried to arrange a good life for her that she couldn’t live by the marriage contract negotiated for her long ago – but they’d taken the news well enough. Something told her that they’d known what her choice was going to be from the start – but just had wanted and needed to pressure her into figuring out for herself.

Nanny heard the car drive up in the driveway, and three excited children spill out all chattering at the same time. “Nanny!” Butch burst through the back door. “We saw Mr. Feathers walking down the street – and we figured…”

“Is he mad at you?” Prudence sidled up to someone she now desperately wanted to call Mommy – and would as soon as she had permission to do so.

Nanny gazed down indulgently. “No, sweetheart, he’s not angry at me. Disappointed a bit, but not angry.”

“So that’s it?” Hal asked in amazement.

She straightened and looked at the young man who would very soon be her oldest stepson. “That’s it.”

“That’s enough for me,” Everett commented firmly and pushed past Hal to walk up to Nanny and drop a possessive kiss on her cheek before snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. “Now things can get back to normal around here.”

“No more worrying about tree frogs,” Butch grinned at the sight of his father with Nanny in his arms. For some reason, it made him feel just that much more secure.

“No more worrying about Mr. Feathers coming back and taking our Nanny away,” Prudence exclaimed happily. “She belongs with us now.”

“No more relatives calling to wonder why I haven’t finished here and moved on,” Nanny said softly in a voice meant for the Professor’s ear alone.

“No more faculty functions where I have to worry about who I’m going to ask to accompany me,” Everett purred back in an equally soft tone and then kissed her ear lobe and made her nerve endings sit up and take notice.

“No more wishing we had a mom,” Hal announced firmly and emphatically in a voice that caught both of the adults’ attention to him. “Now that it’s official, I vote that we stop calling Nanny ‘Nanny’ and begin calling her ‘Mom.’ All in favor…”

“Aye!” three other voices cheered, and Nanny blushed.

“Go on now,” the Professor shooed at his kids. “You all have things you want to do – and I want to talk to your Mom alone.”

“Prof…” Nanny began to complain, but then blushed as the kids all dutifully filed past them toward the front of the house. “Harold…”

“Uh-uhn,” he grinned at her and shook his head. “Majority rules that your name is ‘Mom’ now – except when it’s the two of us, like right now.” He bent forward and brushed his lips against hers tantalizingly. “And then we won’t be thinking much about titles, will we?”

“I dare say that if you get your way, we wouldn’t be thinking about much of anything,” she quipped with a smile, “which is fine with me.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Ew! I think they’re gonna kiss or something,” Butch commented to his little sister standing beside him in the doorway of the kitchen. They’d stopped and turned to see what their father and their nanny intended to do while alone.

“Yes, son, I fully intend to kiss her,” Everett responded in a stern voice, making them jump. “Do you think we could have some privacy here, please?”

The sounds of startled squeaks and then of footsteps running toward the stairs made Nanny chuckle. “Are you always going to be this possessive – even after we’re married?” she asked as she felt herself drawn closer.

“Absolutely,” he replied, his blue eyes dark with emotion. “I’m never going to take you for granted – and I’m always going to want to have you to myself – like now.”

“I’ll never get meals cooked this way…” she warned as his lips threatened to close down on hers. She had to admit she was addicted – she couldn’t get enough of him and his embrace. “The kids will starve to death…”

“Shhhhh. I’m not thinking of food at the moment, and neither should you be,” he murmured in a low voice that thrilled her to her soul. “C’mere,” he whispered and captured her lips with his in a demanding kiss that, as speculated, proceeded to drive all thoughts of other matters from both of their minds.

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