INSPIRATIONAL HISTORICAL ROMANCE
The Nobleman and the Nanny
Emma Pyrmont has no designs on handsome Sir Nicholas Rotherford—at least not for herself. As his daughter’s nanny, she sees how lonely little Alice has been. With the cook’s help, Emma shows the workaholic scientist just what Alice needs. But making Nicholas a better father makes Emma wish her painful past didn’t mar her own marriage chances.
Ever since scandal destroyed his career, Nicholas has devoted himself to his new invention. Now his daughter’s sweet, quick-witted nanny is proving an unexpected distraction. All evidence suggests that happiness is within reach—if only a man of logic can trust in the deductions of his own heart.
“You seem uncommonly outspoken, for a nanny,” Nick said. “Why would that be?”
Miss Pyrmont straightened. “I suppose because other nannies fear for their positions too much to tell the master when he’s behaving like a fool.”
Nick stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”
“You have the sweetest, brightest, most wonderful daughter, yet in the three months I’ve worked here, you have never visited the nursery. You didn’t even know who had charge of her. You spend all your time out here—” she gestured to his still-smoking laboratory “—risking your life, risking leaving her an orphan. That, sir, I find foolish in the extreme.”
Nick raised his brows. “So you have no regard for your position to speak this way.”
Her smile broadened. “I have tremendous regard for my position. I would defend your daughter with my life. But I don’t think you’ll discharge me over strong opinions, Sir Nicholas. You need me. No one else would agree to serve in this house. Good day.”
Nick watched, bemused, as she marched back to the Grange.
He could not remember any member of his household speaking to him in such a bold manner. He needed to learn more about this woman who was taking care of his daughter.
REGINA SCOTT
started writing novels in the third grade. Thankfully for literature as we know it, she didn’t actually sell her first novel until she had learned a bit more about writing. Since her first book was published in 1998, her stories have traveled the globe, with translations in many languages including Dutch, German, Italian and Portuguese.
She and her husband of more than twenty years reside in southeast Washington State with their overactive Irish terrier. Regina is a decent fencer, owns a historical costume collection that takes up over a third of her large closet and is an active member of the Church of the Nazarene. You can find her online blogging at www.nineteenteen.blogspot.com. Learn more about her at www.reginascott.com.
The Courting Campaign
Regina Scott
All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never drive away.
—John 6:37
To Meryl, Sarah and Linda, who understand the true meaning of family, and to our heavenly Father, who welcomes us all to His table
Contents
Chapter One
The Grange, near the Peak District, Derbyshire,
England
June 1815
“He’ll blow us all up this time, he will.”
At the maid’s prediction, Emma Pyrmont glanced up from where she’d set her charge’s afternoon tea to steep. The scullery maid, laundress and chambermaids had their noses pressed to the glass of the Grange’s wide kitchen window. Even Mrs. Jennings, their cook, was peering over their shoulders, her ample bulk blocking some of the summer sunlight.
“It’s more like steam than smoke,” the white-haired cook said with certainty born from experience.
“Looks more dangerous to me,” argued Dorcus Turner. Even though Emma had only been working at the Grange for a few months, she’d noticed that the buxom chambermaid had an opinion on every subject. “I’ll bet the master is coughing.” She elbowed the laundress. “And there’ll be more smelly clothes to wash, too.”
Emma returned her gaze to the elegant teapot sitting in front of her on the worktable in the center of the kitchen. The curve of the silver gave back a reflection of her face, from her light blond hair to her pursed lips. It seemed she had an opinion on the matter, too, but she wasn’t about to voice it. She had no business caring what her employer, Sir Nicholas Rotherford, did in his makeshift laboratory to