After being hired, Pearl White, a Negro woman in her mid-forties, immediately took charge of running the Daniel's elaborate 34 room, multimillion dollar mansion. She was given charge over the window washer, cook, laundry woman, gardener, and limo driver. Pearl adored baby Margaret and quickly became a beloved addition to the Daniels' household.

**************

Grace fidgeted, watching Nathan diaper the baby. "Now, honey, be careful with those pins." He ignored her and spoke baby-talk to little Margaret.

"Yeah...you're all dry. Yeah... Daddy's little princess is aaalll dry."  She cooed and grinned as he picked her up, cradling her in his arms. He gently rocked her while walking back and forth in front of the crib.

Grace looked on smiling. "I love watching you with her. You don't act at all like a new father."

"I'm around the Koren's grandbabies so much... I've even 'bathed' a couple of them."

"Oh, yes. I forget."

"I can't wait for her to get older so I can tell her stories.. Hey, Sweetie...Daddy's got lots and lots of stories to tell his little princess. And Daddy's going to teach you to ride a bike and a pony and..."

"Nathan, for heaven sakes, I thought 'I' had the baby."

"What are you talking about?"

"You've had her all morning. Let me hold her some," she said, stretching forth her arms. But Nathan pretended to ignore her.

"I think Mommy's jealous. She wants me to put 'you' down so I can hold 'her',"  he whispered to his yawning baby.


Grace grinned. "Oh, that's ridiculous."  Then in a childish mood, she picked up a small pillow and threw it at him. Nate made a one-hand catch and threw it back. He placed the sleeping baby in her crib and covered her. Turning to Grace, he spoke in a low voice...

"My arms are empty now. Satisfied?" Grace giggled as Nathan posed a mischievous look on his face. He slowly tipped towards the cot where she sat. He hopped on it, gently forcing her back against the throw pillows...kissing and nibbling her neck and pushing his hand under her nightie.

She shushed him. "Quiet, you idiot. You'll wake the baby."

In the midst of their romantic playing, Pearl tapped lightly on the nursery door.

"Yes," Grace answered, pushing Nathan off and sitting up. She slipped back into her nightie just as Pearl cracked the door and poked her head around. Nathan quickly rested on his elbow, mimicking an innocent school boy.

"Excuse me, Mr. Nate, there's a Mrs. Margaret Pendleton here to see you and Miss Grace. She claims to be some kind of Duchess."  Nathan looked at Grace with a blank stare. He quickly turned back to Pearl.

"Is anyone with her?" he asked, easing up into a sitting position.

"No Sir, just her."

"Tell her we'll be right down," Grace said.

"Yes Ma'am."  Pearl pulled the door shut.

"Well, what do you make of that?" Grace asked.

"You...you're going down with me?"

"Why, of course...don't you want me to?"

"Absolutely," he answered, with a lump in his throat.

She noticed frown lines suddenly appearing along his forehead. "Nate, stop worrying. Margaret is a part of your past. I'm comfortable with that now."

The lines disappeared, and a warm smile grew across his face as he stood. He walked over to the crib and picked up his sleeping princess.

"What are you doing?"

"I want her to see our baby."

"Wait...let me fix my hair and throw something on."

Grace hopped from the cot and rushed to her closet in their bedroom adjoining the nursery. She fingered through several French negligees, then chose a white satin, ankle-length one with long sleeves. After shoving her feet in her low-heel slippers, she dashed before the mirror, brushed her hair and dabbed some pink on her lips before joining Nathan.

"All right, I'm ready."

With baby Margaret's little head against his shoulder, Nate slipped his hand in Grace's as they made their way down the staircase and into the family room where Margaret waited.

**************

The duchess stared at the 17th century painting that hung over the imported European fireplace. As her eyes took in the colors of the painting, her feet shifted in navy blue, two inch heels with T-straps that matched her navy blue outfit. She wore a  tailored, shawl-collared dress suit top with a pleated short skirt that flared at the hips and ended just below the knee. A navy blue, bell shaped cloche hat covered her bobbed hair-cut. A dark brown lock of her hair formed a curl above one of her dark brown eyes. Her mink-collared, grey wrap-coat lay upon the sofa; and beside it, her blue and grey, checkerd handbag.

"Duchess Margaret." Grace said.

Margaret snapped her head around. "Sorry, I didn't know you were there. I...I was just admiring your painting."

"I'm so glad you like it," Grace answered. She walked over with her hand extended and Margaret shook it. Nathan slowly walked behind Grace and stood like a zombie, looking on while the women talked.

"That's a great copy of the priceless Mughal painting," Margaret said, looking up at it. "I've seen the original countless times hanging in the Metropolitan museum of Art."

"Yes, it is quite good. My mother picked it out."

Margaret's eyes widened when she looked towards Nathan, and a smile flashed across her flawless face.

"Oh... and there's the baby," she said, walking over and standing so close to Nate that he could smell the honeysuckle in her hair. He leaned forward so she could get a better look at the baby, their faces just inches apart. Grace smiled and moved closer to them, keeping her eyes glued on Nathan.

"She's adorable," Margaret said.

"Would you like to hold her?" Grace asked.

"May I?" She took baby Margaret who dribbled and cooed as she gently bounced her up and down...her little buttocks resting on the Duchess' arm.

"Well, hello there. You're just a little doll, you know that?"  Then she asked,  "What's her name?"

Nathan froze.

"It's Margaret Mary," Grace said. But before the Duchess could react, she said quickly, "She has Nathan's mother's middle name as her first name and my mother's first name as her middle name."

"How very clever," Margaret said, glancing over at them.

"Well, let me give you what I came for."

 She handed the baby back to Nathan. Their eyes met like a flash of lightning then parted  just as quickly. Margaret walked over to her handbag and pulled out a white envelope. She pointed the envelope at Grace, who came forward, with Nate close behind. Grace took the envelope and peeled it open. It revealed a Trust Fund set up for the baby with a blank space for the name.

"Oh, Duchess, we can't accept this. Why, this is an enormous sum of money." Nathan leaned over and gasped at the amount. Finally getting the cobwebs out of his throat, he said....

"Margaret, are you sure about this? By the time she's twenty-one, she'll be almost as rich as you."

"Well, before you two start making me into some kind of saint, let me say I have very selfish reasons for doing this."  She walked over to Nate and looked him in the eye. He began to shake inside, not knowing what she would say.

"Mother wrote to me about what you did during that Tick Fever outbreak. My Father and everyone else around here believe your quick wit saved a lot of people in this town from ruin...my family included."

"Is 'that' what this is about? I was just doing what any veterinarian would have done. And I...I wasn't alone...I had help." Margaret turned her focus to her coat and handbag.

"Mrs. Daniels, your husband is being quite modest. Perhaps you can make him understand just what an impact his quick handling of the problem had on this town," she said, putting an arm through one of the sleeves of her coat. Grace stepped forward and helped her other arm through the other sleeve.

"He knows, Duchess. It's just the kind of man he is. That's why I love him so."  Margaret didn't comment, but simply said....

"Well, I must be going. It's been a pleasure meeting you Mrs. Daniels and your beautiful baby."

"It's been quite a pleasure meeting 'you' as well'. And Nate and I thank you so much for the wonderful gift. We'll see to it that Margaret Mary attends the best schools. Won't we, Sweetheart?"

"The very best, Dear."

"I'm sure you will," she said, buttoning her coat. Just then, the baby became fussy; she began to kick a little and cry.

"Honey, let me take her up. It's time for her feeding." Nathan handed her the baby. "Duchess, I'm sorry I have to leave so abruptly, but she gets really irritable around nap time," Grace said.

"Please, I quite understand, being a mother thrice over, myself."

"Are you sure you won't stay for brunch?" Grace asked, raising her voice over the baby's whose crying had begun to increase in volume.

"I'd love to, but I promised some friends that I would join them at the country club. As a matter of fact," she said, looking at her watch, "I should have been there minutes ago." She grabbed her purse.

"Perhaps we can make brunch another time."

"Yes...of course," Margaret said. Grace turned and mounted the staircase, with a wailing Baby Margaret trying to suck her little fist off. The noise trailed down the hallway then to a sudden silence when the nursery door closed behind them.

Alone. Nathan was finally able to get the good look he wanted. She was just as beautiful in her late thirties as she had been at twenty. Her diamond studded earrings matched the gleam in her beautiful brown eyes. She smiled as she glided over to him, clutching her handbag. He noticed her full hips making beautiful contact with the sides of her wrap-coat that fitted snug.

She looked him up and down. "Marriage and a baby seem to agree with you."

"You don't look so bad, yourself, after three kids."

"Why,  thank you. I'm glad you noticed."

Nathan's pulse raced and he shifted his weight. "I really should be helping Grace with the baby. She's not as well as she pretends. You understand."

"Of course. But one thing before I go."

"Yes?"

"You once asked me if I were happy.  Are 'you' happy, Nathan?"  He just stood there and stared. She searched his beautiful blue eyes as if she'd know if he were lying.

"Yes. Very. More than I can say."

"I believe you. I also believe there's a part of you that still loves me."

 "I don't think you should be talking like that."

"I shouldn't be talking like that?  Or, I shouldn't be talking like that, 'here?'  We can fix that, you know."

"Why did you come here? And why did you really give our baby that money?"

"I told you," she said, standing so close, he could smell the mint on her breath.

"Whatever we once meant to each other is in the past. We're both happily married, now."

"I'm not," she said, searching his face again.

Nathan stiffened;  he felt tiny beads of sweat invading his forehead. He wet his lips and remembered how she tasted the first time he'd kissed her. How her body melted into his when he held her. How she'd teased him with her breast, exposing one pink nipple.  But then--something flashed inside of him, as if a hypnotist had snapped his finger.  

 "That's 'your' problem."  He took her gently by the arm and escorted her to the door. He opened it and stood back. She stopped short of walking out and looked up at him. Nathan avoided her eyes. She saw his hand on the door knob and ran hers over it. It felt good to him, like warm satin. He didn't react. But when she licked her finger and smoothed it over his lower lip, one of his heartbeats dropped, like a hot coal in a tin bucket.

"I'll be in touch," she said, before walking off.

Nathan closed the door behind her and just stood there with his head against it. The coolness of the wood had a sobering effect. He swallowed hard and felt like someone had just made a fresh cut in an old wound.