“See that you are,” Duncan Kirk replied, and then he released Maggie’s hand and she felt him watching her as she fled toward the open front door of the house. Not daring to look back, she bolted through the doorway and found Jeremy and Tad sliding down an elegant oaken banister, carrying on like banshees.

“Enough!” Maggie snapped in a not-to-be-ignored tone, and both boys stopped where they were, watching her with wide green eyes.

She drew a deep breath, regretting that she’d spoken so sharply, and began again. “Please show me where your rooms are.”

With a sulky glower rather reminiscent of his father’s. Tad raced off to parts unknown, in blatant rebellion. It was Jeremy who took Maggie’s hand and said, “This way, please, Miss Chamberlin. Shall I tell on Tad? Papa will give him a trouncing if I do.”

Maggie bit back a smile. “Mustn’t be a tattletale, Jeremy. I’ll deal with Tad myself, if you don’t mind.”

Jeremy nodded solemnly, and Maggie knew that he was wondering how she intended to manage such a feat. Indeed, Maggie was pondering that question herself. Tad was a difficult boy, and, for all her love of little ones, she’d had no real experience with problem children.

In this house, unlike the one in Sydney, the boys did not have separate rooms. Instead, there was, on the third floor, a nursery area, complete with a schoolroom, sitting room, cramped quarters for a governess, and a rather austere-looking bedchamber for Jeremy and Tad.

“Will we start our lessons today, miss?” Jeremy asked, yawning as he hoisted himself onto one of the two matching beds and sat with his feet dangling.

Maggie felt sleepy herself since she hadn’t been able to rest on the train, and forced back a yawn of her own. “Perhaps this afternoon,” she said. “For now, I want you to rest.”

For just a moment Jeremy looked as though he might lodge a protest, but he quickly remembered his status as a young gentleman. “All right,” he said on a long-suffering sigh, thrusting himself backward onto the bed.

Smiling, Maggie removed his shoes and covered him gently, her hand stroking his bright auburn hair back from his face. A warm feeling of love welled inside her for the little boy, and she was wondering whether or not it would be proper to kiss him, when he said in a piping little voice, “Could you please give me a good-night kiss, miss, the way Mum used to do?”

Maggie felt tears gathering in her throat and wondered what Mrs. Kirk had been like. She bent and placed a gentle kiss on Jeremy’s freckled forehead. “Like that?” she asked softly.

He nodded, his eyelids obviously growing heavy. “Yes, miss, just like that,” he said, and then, as quickly as that, he was asleep.