The Nanny Solution Read Free Page A

going out West, Miss Templeton? I can pay for your fare and a small stipend in return for your assistance.”
    It sounded a foolish thing to say, but Lacewood had suggested those exact words. “The trip is broken up by switching engines and lines, but it’s remarkably fast, only three days, two nights,” Mitch added, hoping the solicitor’s optimism hadn’t been misplaced.
    Victoria’s mother shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mr. MacLeod, but my daughter’s fare is already taken care of.”
    â€œI’ll take it.”
    Both her mother and Mitch looked to Victoria. She folded her arms. “My fare hasn’t been purchased yet.”
    The older woman looked aghast. “But you need to travel first class, Victoria. You need to look your best when you arrive. You won’t get any rest helping this man.”
    Knowing he was being ignored, Mitch spoke up. “I can’t afford first class, but I’m told you’ll get your rest. It’s a second-class car, but it’s a Pullman sleeper one.”
    He couldn’t guarantee rest. He just said that because dropping the fancy Pullman name might help his cause, although that company no longer made those second-class sleepers, he’d been told. They would travel in an older model.
    The mother gasped. “Second class! That will never do!”
    Victoria, however, smiled sweetly at him. Too sweetly. “I said I’ll take the job. When do we leave?”

Chapter Two
    T he young porter hefted Victoria’s bags off the damp platform. The early morning’s cold drizzle reflected the mood of the day. Victoria looked sidelong at the four children staring at her from under the cover of the train depot’s narrow overhang, each clutching one small bag. She cringed. Her maid had managed to pare her luggage down to four pieces, but they seemed huge compared to everyone else’s. Yet she needed it all, and she hadn’t even packed a mourning dress.
    And why should she? She refused the convention of grieving the man who’d ruined her life. What she wore today was conservative in style and color and quite expensive. It was more than suitable.
    Her mother had taken six bags with her. Her departure yesterday had been surprisingly difficult for Victoria, despite the discontent between them and the fact that Mother had come and gone in Victoria’s life several times. With her need for the cool air of Portland in August or the warmth of the Carolinas in February, she was always leaving Victoria in the care of a nanny, but this time their parting was different. Their home must be sold. Discreetly, of course, the assets liquidated as per Mr. Lacewood’s instructions, after consultation with an investor. The staff would be let go, each with a glowing letter of recommendation.
    Victoria took one lamenting look down the platform, wondering if she’d see any friends. She recognized no one. A blessing, really, she told herself, all the while fighting disappointment. Mother had asked that this dreadful affair be completed as quickly and quietly as possible and such meant no one must know they were slipping out of town in disgrace.
    Once she was settled in Colorado, she would write to the few women she called friends and explain everything. Perhaps by then, time might have softened the emotions roiling through her.
    And Francis? Would he call before the harvest soiree that his mother was to host? Shouldn’t she write to him, too? Abigail had not invited his family to Charles’s funeral. Victoria clenched her jaw. Honestly, a funeral shouldn’t require invitations as though it were some exclusive fete. All she could do now was hope that Francis would not call to an empty house.
    Oh, who was she trying to convince? She and Francis had shared only a trio of engagements. Not one word in their conversations had ever suggested that he’d been interested enough to come calling. They owed each other