Introduction

They’re from two different worlds. Can love unite them? Things are looking up for Jillian Dare. She’s left her Shenandoah Valley foster home behind and is striking out on her own. Thrilled to land a job as a nanny at a large country estate in the rolling foothills of Virginia,, she is enthralled with the beauty of her new home, her young charge Cadence Remington , and frequent travel to the Remington family castle in England. But just as Jillian begins to feel at home, she meets  her handsome but moody employer, Ethan. In spite of herself, Jillian realizes she might be falling for her boss.

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Excerpt

Life is full of surprises: some kissed by joy, others

stabbed by sorrow. My own life had experienced more

of the latter in its brief span. I was, therefore, embarking

on a new job and a new situation with an ambivalence

borne of hopeful anticipation and cautious dread.

The first surprise on my journey was the deer that suddenly

leaped out of the woods and across the roadway. I

slammed on the brakes just in time to avoid hitting it. I must

confess that my fear of auto accidents borders on phobic.

My little Honda Civic lurched and stalled.

“Great,” I muttered as I fiddled with the ignition, and

then I looked up. I sucked in my breath and exhaled loudly.

“Oh my . . .”

Emerging from the tree-lined boulevard across a vast

lawn, Carter Plantation sprawled before me—a gracious

three-storied brick Federal mansion with a portico sup-

ported by white Doric columns. On either side of the central

building spread identical two-storied wings in that perfect

balance typical of the Georgian style.

What wasn’t typical was the sheer size of it all. I couldn’t

recall ever seeing such a large house before—and I was on

my way to work there. I had accepted a job as a nanny to

Cadence Remington, a little toddler of thirteen months, an

age I felt perfectly competent to manage. But this enormous

house was more than I had bargained for. The image of Julie

Andrews as Maria in The Sound of Music, cowed by her first

glimpse of the von Trapp mansion, flashed into my mind.

As I slipped my car into gear, I tentatively and then more

boldly sang Maria’s tune, “I have confidence in confidence

alone!”

Driving up to the mansion, I recalled my job interview

at the Strasbourg Inn just a week earlier when I had met a

small elderly woman with soft white wooly hair and bright

blue eyes. She looked as huggable as a lamb and smelled

faintly of lilacs.

“You must be Jillian,” she had said warmly, extending her

hand.

I had grasped it firmly. “Mrs. Remington?” I asked with

some confusion.

She laughed lightly—her laughter had a pleasant musical

sound like wind chimes. “No, dear. I’m Mrs. Carter. I

should have introduced myself. I’m Elise, Ethan Remington’s

aunt.”

I hadn’t meant to frown, but I must have looked puzzled

because Mrs. Carter added, “Ethan asked me to conduct the

interview for him today. His work keeps him very busy. He’s

the founder and CEO of his own international company—

Remington Telecommunications or RemTel—you’ve heard

of it?”

I nodded.

“Much of his business is in the UK, so he travels quite a

lot. His father was British, and the Remingtons still own an

estate over in England.”

This explained the enticing part of the job description I

had read at the agency, calling for a nanny willing to travel to

England. That was what had really appealed to me, a young

woman who had never been farther away than the beaches

of Delaware but who had, nevertheless, procured a passport

just in case the opportunity to travel presented itself.

“You see,” she continued to explain, “both of his parents

have passed on, so everything has fallen on him. But with

his business to run and two estates to manage, he really can’t

do it all on his own. It’s just too much. That’s why I’m tasked

with the interview.”

“And Mrs. Remington?”

Mrs. Carter shook her head mournfully. “I’m sorry to say

Mrs. Remington is no longer with us.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I murmured. How dreadful for Mr.

Remington to have lost so many loved ones! “That’s so sad for

him and for his daughter.”

“Yes, yes, it is very sad. A terrible business.” She sighed

heavily. “It’s a mercy the baby is so young and doesn’t know

any better. Poor Ethan has been a single father practically

since she was born, which is why we must have a full-time

nanny. I’m just getting too old to be chasing a toddler around

the house all day.”

Mrs. Carter brightened. “Now if you decide to take the

job, your contract states you will have afternoons and three

evenings a week off, plus a full weekend every month. I’ll try

to give you lots of privacy, and I think you’ll find your rooms

quite nice. And you should know that Ethan is very generous

to his staff. He’ll pay your social security, health insurance,

and your travel expenses. And he’ll put money in an IRA

for you too. We’ll have the month trial period, but I do hope

you’ll be happy with us and everything works out.”

She paused and went on cautiously, “I thought Caroline,

our former nanny, was happy, but then she quit quite suddenly.

I’m not sure why, but it left us high and dry.”

“It all sounds perfect to me,” I said. “But, Mrs. Carter, I’m

sure you’d like to ask me some questions first.”

“Oh yes, yes, of course. Now let me see . . .” She rummaged

around in an enormous black handbag until she pulled out

a crumpled piece of paper. “Here it is!” She laughed as if

delighted with a wonderful discovery. “All of Ethan’s questions.”

And with that, Mrs. Carter conducted the interview and

promptly hired me for a one-month trial period, which

brought me to this moment of singing, “I have confidence in

me!” as I pulled up to the portico of the mansion. I breathed

a silent prayer, mounted the stairs with all the confidence I

could muster, and rang the bell. I endured a very long wait

while that confidence began to evaporate.

Suddenly the door swung wide and there stood Mrs. Elise

Carter.

“Jillian!” she cried. “Do come in. I’m sorry to keep you

waiting so long. We rarely use this door. We all park around

back near the kitchen and come in that way.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mrs. Carter. I can move my car.”

“No, no. We can take care of that later. I’ll ask Jack to move

it and carry your things to your rooms. Now please come

in and make yourself at home.” She stepped back for me to

enter and opened her arms in greeting. “Welcome to Carter

Plantation, Jillian! We’re so glad you’re here.”

“Thank you so much. I’m very happy to be here.”

“Do you need to freshen up, my dear? There’s a powder

room just down the hall. And after that, could I get you

something to drink? Some sweet tea, perhaps?”

I gratefully accepted both offers and was astonished that

Mrs. Carter bustled about until I was comfortably sipping

iced tea on the veranda under the portico roof. I wasn’t

certain what to expect on my arrival at Carter Plantation,

but I hadn’t expected to be treated as a guest.

Mrs. Carter settled into a wicker chair opposite mine.

“There now. I love to sit out here when the weather’s nice.

Isn’t this a grand view?”

I agreed that it was. The prospect looked over the gently

sloping lawn to the boulevard lined with trees sporting their

autumn cloaks of scarlet and orange against a brilliant azure

sky. The periwinkle shadows of the Blue Ridge Mountains

loomed in the distance beyond the rolling hills of Fauquier

County in northern Virginia. Although it was October, the

bright sun of an Indian summer afternoon spread along the

veranda, and I lifted my face gratefully to its warmth.

“I never tire of this view,” Mrs. Carter said cheerfully as

she sipped her tea. “I was so blessed to marry into the Carter

family. You know, Carter Plantation has been in this family

for generations—ever since Robert ‘King’ Carter was

granted about half of Virginia from King George II back in

the colonial days.”

Now I really was confused. “I thought Mr. Remington . . .”

Mrs. Carter’s laughter chimed. “Oh, the estate does belong

to Mr. Remington now, but it’s still in the Carter family. You

see, my sister-in-law was Ethan’s mother. His full name is

Ethan Carter Remington. Sadly, my dear husband and I were

never blessed with children. So when George passed away, he

willed the house to Ethan. But since Ethan travels so much,

he’s happy to leave me in charge here. And of course, he wants

me here to look after Cadence while he’s away.”

“Mrs. Carter,” I asked, “what is Cadence like? Could you

please tell me a little more about her?”

“Oh yes! She’s a darling, precious little girl.” Her face lit up.

“Very precocious and curious and absolutely delightful. She’s

very energetic, though, and I just can’t keep up with her—

even with Jack and his wife, Marta, to help. But Cadence is

the joy of my life! Really, of everyone’s life, especially Ethan’s.

My, how he dotes on her! By the way, Cadence is napping

now. So you arrived at just the right time, because I’m quite

at leisure to show you around the house.”

Mrs. Carter rose, and I followed her about the mansion,

trying to process all the information she poured forth as

well as to orient myself so I would not lose my way later.

The Carters had fastidiously maintained the integrity and

elegance of the original Federal era structure. The more modern

additions had every contemporary convenience without

compromising the overall architectural harmony.

I could barely contain my delight when shown my own

set of rooms. My own rooms! And not just one—but a suite

complete with private bath, sitting room, and fully equipped

kitchenette. Although I could enter the apartment from the

main house, I also had my own separate entrance, which

opened on to a patio overlooking the gardens in the back.

“We hope you’ll take most of your meals with the family,”

Mrs. Carter was saying as I ran my hand over the shining

teakettle in the kitchenette. “But if you prefer not to, especially

on your evenings off, we’ve tried to make everything

as comfortable as possible for you. Whatever suits you. By

the way, Ethan has everything wired so that you have your

own cable television and a laptop computer.” She paused for

a moment then asked almost anxiously, “So, Jillian, how do

you like it?”

How could I explain to this sweet woman, who was so

eager to please, that I could be satisfied with very little?

Having grown up in a progression of foster homes, I had

never had a room of my own—let alone an apartment. I

looked around the cheerful, well-appointed au pair suite

and exclaimed truthfully, “Oh, Mrs. Carter, I love it!”

“I’m so glad.” She beamed at me with genuine pleasure.

“There’s one more thing. Let me show you how the security

alarm works.” Leading me over to a control panel, she demonstrated

how to check that the system was operating.

I paid close attention. I was accustomed to living out in the

country, but in the Shenandoah Valley, even the wealthiest

people seldom locked their doors, and I mentioned something

to that effect.

“I know, I know,” Mrs. Carter replied. “We didn’t lock our

doors either when I lived here all those years with George.

But after those teenagers murdered that doctor up in Loudoun

County, Ethan insisted on putting in this system. If

anyone tampers with the doors or windows, the police are

automatically alerted. I suppose since he’s gone so much, he

worries about little Cadence.”

She glanced down at her wristwatch. “Now we just have

time for you to meet the household staff.”

She led the way to the kitchen and introduced me to

Jack and Marta Thornfield, an affable couple in their late

fifties or early sixties, who managed the house and grounds

and lived across the yard in a renovated cottage beside the

garage and stables. Jack stood tall and wiry while Marta

was plump and doughy. Jack Spratt and his wife—that’s

the mental image I could hang his name on. But Marta

would be harder to remember. Mrs. Carter interrupted

my thoughts, explaining that a cleaning crew as well as

a gardener came in several times a week for the heavier

chores.

As we chatted in the kitchen, a handsome black Labrador

retriever rose from his bed near the stone fireplace and approached

me, wagging his tail with friendly curiosity. He

sniffed my shoes and I held out the back of my hand for him

to investigate before venturing to pet him.

“This is Ranger, Ethan’s dog,” Mrs. Carter said.

“He’s beautiful,” I murmured as I ran my hand over his

thick coat. “I love labs. They’re so good-natured.”

“Seems you meet with his approval too. I’m glad you

like dogs. But we should finish our tour. It’s time you met

Cadence.”

I followed her back to my wing of the house and the

nursery suite next door to mine. She tapped lightly on the

closed door and opened it to a playroom painted in bright

primary colors. A pretty teenaged girl with straight shoulderlength

blond hair slouched on a sofa. She looked up from

her reading as we entered.

“Hello, Corinne,” Mrs. Carter cheerfully greeted the

girl. “Meet our new nanny, Jillian Dare. Jillian, this is our

babysitter, Corinne Cooke. She comes over every weekday

afternoon during the baby’s naptime and keeps an eye on

her until supper. That will give you a few hours every day

to yourself.”

“Hi, Corinne,” I said. “Nice to meet you.”

Corinne eyed me. Did I note a look of disdain or was it just

bored indifference? I guessed she wouldn’t be very impressed

with my lack of stylishness. Although I was only a few years her

senior, I had tamed my curly waist-length light brown hair by

braiding it and twisting it into a neat bun. I had also carefully

chosen my outfit to reflect a serious, mature professional. I

wore a long gray jersey skirt and a modest royal blue sweater

set, which would enhance the blue of my eyes. I’m never sure

how to fill in the blank on forms requesting the color of my

eyes. They are an indeterminate and constantly shifting color—

gray, green, or blue. Like the color of the sea that reflects the

sky, my eyes reflect what I’m wearing.

The babysitter grunted a return greeting and gathered up

her schoolbooks, which had been scattered over the couch.

“Should I wake up Cadence now?” she asked.

Mrs. Carter checked her watch. “Yes, dear. Why don’t you?

If she naps too late, we’ll never get her to sleep tonight. Plus

I’d like for Jillian to meet her.”

While Corinne went into the adjoining room to wake the

child, Mrs. Carter pointed out the amenities of the nursery

suite. The layout was identical to mine with a kitchenette, but

entirely childproofed and looking much like a well-equipped

preschool. The playroom contained a child-sized table and

chairs, a flat-screen television with a DVD player, and organized

bins and shelves full of toys, puzzles, books, and craft

supplies. Evidently a tremendous amount of thought and

care had gone into designing this nursery suite.

Mrs. Carter mentioned that Mr. Remington’s rooms connected

to Cadence’s bedroom, just as mine connected to the

nursery sitting room.

“He likes to be able to check on her easily when he’s home,

but unfortunately he does travel a lot. You have a monitor in

your apartment so that you can hear her if she should wake in

the middle of the night, and we also have monitors throughout

the house. Ah, here is our little darling!” she exclaimed

as Corinne carried the toddler into the playroom.

And Cadence was a little darling—huge blue eyes, dark

curly hair, and pudgy cheeks. At first she shyly hid her face

in Corinne’s shoulder, but when she was put down it only

took a few minutes for her to warm up to me and to begin

to bring me toy “gifts,” plopping them in my lap.

She won my heart in no time, and I hoped that I would

quickly win hers. The expense and consideration that had

gone into her care made me wonder even more about her

father and when I would be introduced to him. My curiosity

about the owner of Carter Plantation would not be satisfied

for another two weeks—and even after I met him, Mr. Remington

remained a mystery to me for quite some time.

I actually first made his acquaintance in cyberspace. After

dinner and Cadence’s bedtime, I began to put away my few

belongings and acclimate myself to my new rooms. Beside

the computer, I discovered a set of instructions for activating

my “nanny” email account. When I logged in, I was surprised

to find two messages in the inbox. The first was from Ethan

[email protected], my boss and Cadence’s father.

“He likes to be able to check on her easily when he’s home,

but unfortunately he does travel a lot. You have a monitor in

your apartment so that you can hear her if she should wake in

the middle of the night, and we also have monitors throughout

the house. Ah, here is our little darling!” she exclaimed

as Corinne carried the toddler into the playroom.

And Cadence was a little darling—huge blue eyes, dark

curly hair, and pudgy cheeks. At first she shyly hid her face

in Corinne’s shoulder, but when she was put down it only

took a few minutes for her to warm up to me and to begin

to bring me toy “gifts,” plopping them in my lap.

She won my heart in no time, and I hoped that I would

quickly win hers. The expense and consideration that had

gone into her care made me wonder even more about her

father and when I would be introduced to him. My curiosity

about the owner of Carter Plantation would not be satisfied

for another two weeks—and even after I met him, Mr. Remington

remained a mystery to me for quite some time.

I actually first made his acquaintance in cyberspace. After

dinner and Cadence’s bedtime, I began to put away my few

belongings and acclimate myself to my new rooms. Beside

the computer, I discovered a set of instructions for activating

my “nanny” email account. When I logged in, I was surprised

to find two messages in the inbox. The first was from Ethan

[email protected], my boss and Cadence’s father.

Dear Miss Dare:

Welcome to Carter Plantation. I am pleased you have

decided to take care of my daughter and trust we will work

well together providing for her needs. I hope you have found

everything to your satisfaction. Please let me know if there

is anything lacking in your accommodation or provision. I

plan to return to Virginia in a fortnight’s time. In the meantime,

feel free to contact me via email with any questions or

concerns you may have. In case of emergency, you may call

my mobile phone. My aunt has the number.

Best regards,

Ethan Remington

Although his email was appropriately businesslike in tone,

I felt pleased that my new boss had been thoughtful enough

not only to provide me with a computer and email account

but also to be solicitous of my needs.

The second message also had the RemTel domain address.

The sender’s name appeared simply as CC. The subject line

read “Nanny.” Surprised, I decided I should open it. The

three words all in capital letters on the otherwise blank page

made my stomach flip.

WATCH YOUR BACK!

Instinctively, I whipped my head around. Of course, nobody

was there. How silly of me. But who would write such

a thing? And how did they have my address?

I rapidly hit the delete button and shut down the computer.

Rising quickly, I slipped through the connecting door

and crossed the nursery sitting room to check on Cadence.

She was sleeping soundly, and the baby monitor seemed to

be working properly. I locked her hallway door from the

inside, and when I returned to my suite, I locked mine as

well. Next, I tried the door to the outside patio to make sure

it too was securely locked. After checking that the security

alarm was working, I peered under the bed and in the closets

and opened the shower curtain.

While I dressed for bed, I puzzled over the mystery message.

Who could CC be? So far I’ve met only Marta, Jack, and

of course, Mrs. Carter. Could Elise Carter possibly be CC? She

hardly seems the type to send threatening emails. But was it

a threat or a warning? She mentioned that in the next county

some teenagers had killed a doctor. The thought of teenagers

brought the babysitter Corinne to mind. What’s her last

name? Cooke. Corinne Cooke. Could she be CC? And what

about the former nanny—Caroline? Then again, there must

be hundreds of employees who work for RemTel and have access

to their email account. But why would anyone send me

such a message?

My mind whirled and I tried to reason myself out of my

fears. Placing a flashlight and the phone within reach on my

bed table, I left on a nightlight and lay on my back with the

covers pulled up to my chin until I finally fell asleep. view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

At the beginning of the story, Jillian seems intimidated by her new surroundings. How does her confidence level change as the story progresses? What circumstances do you think contribute to this?

Jillian first meets Ethan Remington when he crashes his car in front of her. What was your first impression of Ethan? How did it change as the story progressed? What changes did his character undergo as the story progressed?

When Jillian first arrives at Carter Plantation, she begins receiving eerie emails from someone calling themselves “CC.” Who did you think was sending the mysterious emails? How do you think this affected Jillian’s feelings toward her new home and employer?

Ethan seems to take every moment he can spare to interact with his young daughter, Cadence. What do you think Ethan’s interactions with his daughter reveal about his character? Do they make him seem more or less sympathetic? What do you think a parent’s interaction with their child reveals about them?

When Jillian arrives at Keswick Hall in England, her relationship with Ethan changes. What circumstances contribute to that change? When does Jillian first realize she is in love with Ethan? When do you think Ethan first realizes he is in love with her?

Jillian encounters more than threatening emails during her stay at Keswick hall. Who did you think the Lady in White who appeared in the nursery door was? How would you have handled that situation?

After her mysterious encounter with the Lady in White, Jillian awakes that night to discover a fire in Ethan’s office. Who did you suspect set the fire? Did these mysterious circumstances make you suspect Ethan was not revealing something about his past?

After her arrival back at the Carter Plantation, how do you think Jillian’s feelings about her employer and her situation changed? Were you surprised by Ethan’s sudden marriage proposal? How would you have responded if you were in Jillian’s place?

When Ethan and Jillian travel back to England to make the final arrangements for their wedding, Ethan’s past returns to haunt him in a very hurtful way. How did you feel toward Ethan’s character after the fiasco in the dress shop? Do you think Ethan should have told Jillian about this part of his past sooner? What did you think of Jillian’s response? Would you have responded differently?

After Jillian’s traumatic trip to England, she seeks refuge with the children of her foster family, the Brookes. Did you see Jillian’s leaving as running away or a necessary step to distance herself from the situation? What would you have done in her place?

Jillian states a few different times that she felt like Ethan had become an idol in her life. In what ways did she put him on a pedestal? How do you think this contributed to the way she responded when Ethan revealed his past with Crystal? Have you ever put someone on a pedestal in your life with disastrous results?

After spending a summer with the Brookes’ children, Jillian is surprised to receive another marriage proposal from John Brookes. What were the key differences between his marriage proposal and Ethan’s? What did you think of John’s reasoning behind why he and Jillian should be married? What did you think of Jillian’s response?

When Jillian and Ethan are finally reconciled after his accident, how do you think their characters have changed? What lessons have they learned? How do those lessons affect their renewed relationship and eventual marriage?

What do you think of Jillian’s attitude toward the different circumstances that change her life throughout the book? How do you think her faith affects how she responds?

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