Page 18 of Snowdrops and Winterberry
She returned to her efforts at breaking up the soil. “Working here, for this family, would be ideal in many ways. But I confess I find myself wondering lately whether I want to spend anothertwenty years looking after other people’s bairns.”
“Are you not enjoying your work?”
“I’ve enjoyment in it. But that might owe more to my attachment to the young duke than to the job of nursemaid itself.”
“Are you always as attached to your charges as you are to this one?” He leaned back on his feet and eyed her, ready for some kind of fighting response. He intended to head it off. “I wasn’t criticizing, only observing that you very clearly care deeply for him. I’ve seen other children of the Quality with their nurses, and there’s not ever been quite so much attachment between them as I see between you and this little duke.”
“I’ve been fond of all the children I’ve tended, but none has needed me the way he does. None of them has been as alone as he is. Falstone Castle is very isolated. He’s no neighbors, no little playmates.”
“I can’t imagine a childhood like that. I came from a large family and had a great many little friends in the village where we lived. I loved it.”
A nostalgic smile touched Miss MacGregor’s face, and the effect was lovely. She was pretty—he’d always thought so—but something about that particular smile made a person want to smile in return.
“My family was much the same in my earliest years,” she said. “We’d quite a few children in the household. We worked hard, but we also enjoyed each other.”
“You told me when we were scouting out evergreens that you’ve been in service since you were ten years old. Did all your family seek employment so young?”
“My father was injured in an accident and could nae work. My mother and my older siblings were already supporting the family, but it was no longer enough. All but the youngest two among us found positions. We were employed as servants inhouseholds and had to leave home. Last I heard from any of them, my mother told me the youngest had also left to find work. We’re spread out across the kingdom. I’m not even certain where most of them are.”
His heart ached at that. So many who didn’t bear the weight of poverty dismissed its ability to touch every aspect of a life. “Did your earliest jobs take you away from Scotland?”
She nodded. “Aye. They’ve all taken me away from there.”
“I’d wager your parents are in Scotland still. Have you traveled back to see them?”
“Nursemaids haven’t that flexibility. We go wherever the children of the family are. If they are at home, we bide there. If they travel with their parents, we go as well. Our comings and goings aren’t our own.”
He nodded in understanding. “I travel constantly for my work, never staying in one place for long. My home is the traveling coach I converted into a house of sorts. I don’t have a home village to return to or call my own.”
“You told me your father died last year. Were you able to see him before he passed?”
“I was, thank the saints. I’ve more freedom in that respect than you do. I don’t have roots anywhere, but I can travel.”
“I’d enjoy traveling,” she said. “I’ve heard about some bonnie areas of this kingdom, mostly from the books I read to Adam. His is a particularly curious mind. He is forever asking questions. When we read about a new place, he asks me what it looks and feels like and how it smells. I have to tell him I don’t know. He usually grows frustrated and says he would nae want to know anyway.”
“He’s a little petulant, is he?”
“No, not truly.” She didn’t sound offended, for which he was grateful. “He’s spent so much of his life being hurt and overlooked and left behind. When he suspects he’s about tosuffer a fresh blow or a new wave of pain, he closes himself off, shields himself with anger. I don’t know how to help him with that.” Her shoulders drooped a bit. “He has no constant but me now, and once his mother sorts out that he is really too old for a nursemaid, I’ll be forced to leave him, just as everyone else has. I worry that the shield of anger he wields will be turned to armor and the tenderhearted little boy I know will disappear inside it.”
Howard’s heart was both touched and sad at the sorrow he heard in her voice. He crossed to where she stood, hoping she saw in him the friendly rapport he was trying to offer. “No matter where life might take you, he will benefit from having been loved by you. Over the years, when he wonders if people care about him, he’ll remember that you did. He’ll trust that youdo. That will make a great difference.”
“That’s a shocking thing to hear you say, considering you once insisted I was neglecting him so severely that you were needing to look after him on my behalf.”
He winced a bit as the dart hit its mark. “Heavens, I did say that. My only defense is that I was concerned.”
“About him or about your job?”
“Both. I do not want to see the child hurt. I also don’t want to see my livelihood disappear.”
“That sounds very much like the conversations I’ve been having with myself lately.” She sighed. “My employment at Falstone Castle cannot last forever. Staying in the area so I can keep an eye out for Adam would mean having no job and no income. But leaving entirely would cause him such pain.”
“For two people who began their acquaintance quite at odds, we seem to have a great deal in common.” He smiled, hoping to encourage her and lighten her thoughts a little.
She smiled back, and it did the oddest thing to his heart, setting it pounding against his ribs in a way clearly meant to get his attention. He, however, was quite adept at ignoring it.
“This is the flower bed where I mean to plant the jonquils as a surprise for His Lordship.”
“Lady Jonquil agreed, then?” Miss MacGregor seemed genuinely pleased.
