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already?
    “Charmed, Mr. Howe,” the ten-year-old said with mock formality, tugging on the strap of her overalls. “Has my lady-in-waiting departed for the evening?” she asked in an awful attempt at Daniel’s British accent.
    “Indeed she has,” Elias said. “Tova’s done headed home for the night. A day of cleaning up after the likes of you has exhausted her.” Elias smiled at Daniel over Charlotte’s head. “Evenin’, Daniel.”
    Daniel responded in kind, but his attention was fully on Charlotte. He was besotted with the child, as was Elias, the old ship’s cook, who bent his creaking bones into a formal bow that would have passed as appropriate in Queen Victoria’s drawing room.
    The thought reminded him of the letter in his pocket, likely from a man duly knighted, who had taken tea in Her Majesty’s drawing room more than once.
    Daniel’s fingers worried the edge of the letter, then abruptly withdrew from his pocket. The earl would probably like nothing better than to cast a pall on his evening with Charlotte. The letter would have to wait.
    “Go wash up, Charlotte,” he said, repeating the command twice before the princess-in-training deemed it worthy of a response.
    “You know I prefer Charlie.”
    “And
I
prefer a daughter who does not speak in an unladylike manner to her father,
Charlotte.
” He paused to put on his sternest look, a difficult feat given the grin on the girl’s face. “Surely Miss McTaggart taught you the proper way to converse with your elders.”
    The face she made nearly caused him to believe the argument was over. “Miss McTaggart had too many rules,” she said, turning a perfectly sweet expression into a pout.
    “Good rules, I warrant,” he replied, “and I shall see that the new Nanny McTaggart also upholds these rules.”
    “I like Tova better.”
    Daniel sighed. “Tova is a housekeeper, Buttercup. And while she’s invaluable to us, she hasn’t the time or the ability to teach you the skills needed to be a proper lady. That’s the job of your governess.”
    “Papa, I told you I’m old enough not to—”
    “Not to argue with your father?” He paused for effect. “Indeed, you are that. Now go and prepare for dinner before I lose my patience.”
    The little charmer grinned. For all her ability to push against his authority, Charlotte certainly knew when to cut her losses and run. She hugged him, eyes wide, and kissed his cheek. “Yes, Papa,” she said as she skipped off, he hoped, toward soap and water.
    Elias took his hat and coat, chuckling. “She’s a handful, that one.”
    Daniel followed him into the dining room, where a bountiful feast had been laid. “Elias, you’ve done it again. Unless Tova and Isak are joining us, you only needed to feed three.”
    “It’s only us tonight,” Elias said, “but none of us shall leave the table hungry.”
    Daniel reached for a slice of bread and tore off a corner. “Should we eat even half of this, none of us could leave the table at all.”
    “You know I’ve only one set of recipes, and they’re for a shipload. If you don’t like it, hire a real cook.”
    “What would I do with a real cook? I keep you here for entertainment value, not your cooking.” The statement was patently false, as evidenced by the bite of rye bread Daniel popped into his mouth.
    “Try to complain now, lad. I baked your favorite.” Elias’s laughter trailed behind him as he disappeared into the kitchen.
    Rather than follow, Daniel moved to the window that filled one end of the room. Clouds gathering above the distant peaks foretold of rain. Likely the mines were already being soaked.
    Though the strike that crippled the mines in May and June had been halted and their leader finally captured and placed under arrest, the underlying issues still remained. The men wanted better working conditions and a bigger share of what was quickly becoming a substantial pie, and now they’d had a taste of what striking might accomplish. A