Page 24 of The Secret Life of the Elusive Governess
“So,” the Duchess inquired at Nicholas with a light voice that had a stiff undertone, “Nicholas, pray tell. When did you develop a penchant for phaetons?”
Nicholas’ ruddy face took on a red tinge, “The first time I saw one, Mother, I was nine and Grandfather had come by. We went to get some candies in town and I saw one. Lord Frazer was driving it and he even let me go inside for a while.”
Moses did not have to look to know the Lavinia was staring at him. “Interesting. Have you told your father about that encounter?”
Nicholas’ face got rosier and his eyes were everywhere but on his parents. “No, Mother, I haven’t.”
“And how did your father know about it then, Nicholas?” The Duchess prodded sweetly.
Oh, for the love of God.
“Miss Robins told me,” the Duke replied with a not-up-for-discussion tone, “It came up when we were discussing Nicholas’ interests.”
The nuances of his tone clearly registered with Lavinia, shown in the fire that flashed in her eyes and the immediate thinning of her lips. In the next moment, they were gone.
“That is wonderful, Nicholas,” the Duchess simpered, “I am glad that you have some interests other than schoolwork. Do you remember how that phaeton looked and can you tell me about it?”
The Duke was slightly alarmed with how quickly and effortlessly Lavinia changed her tone and attitude. Her fleeting glare, however, told him that the argument was not over, and he sighed internally.
This carriage ride is the last moment of peace I will have, so why not enjoy it?
* * *
Regret.
That was the predominant feeling slicing a part of her soul away every time she had to mask her emotions and be cordial with the Duke. It pained her to see the line in the middle of his forehead and the tiny downturn of his lips at the sudden, overly formal attitude, but she had to do it. What sense was there for her to spur on more problems between him and his wife—the Duke’s declaration of them having more wedges between them notwithstanding.
“Miss Robins,” Hinds said from the doorway of the schoolroom. “Is there a term for a meal that is between dinner and supper because if so, you will need to use it.”
The governess’ head shot up and her eyes widened. She snapped around to look at the clock in the back room and noted that it was after six.
How has time flown so fast?
Caroline cleared her throat and closed the book she had been using as camouflage for her musing, “I cannot think of one, Mr. Hinds, but based on how many times I have been late, I think it is my onus to invent one.”
The older man snorted, “Well, join me then. I will accompany you to the kitchen.”
Standing up and smoothing her skirt under her, Caroline followed the butler out and into the corridor. “Accompany or escort, by orders of Mrs. Willow?”
“When it comes to our head cook there is not much of a difference. On a separate note, I am glad that the children are bonding with their parents,” Hinds commented as they neared the kitchen, where from even a stretch away, Caroline could smell a wonderful mix of aromas. “Her Grace is coming around wonderfully—don’t you agree, Miss Robins?”
Caroline briefly bit her lip, stopping the words she wanted to say but then nodded, “I concur. It is lovely that she is reconnecting with her children.”
Instantly, she grimaced—her tone was anything but joyful. Forcing her eyes to keep straight, she continued to the kitchen and met Mrs. Willow with a forced smile. “Good evening, Mrs. Willow. I expect a rigorous talking-to about my missed meals.”
The cook huffed in mock defeat, “You took all my bluster, Miss Robins, but sit. I’m going to give you a double-portion to make up for your oversight.”
Sitting still, Caroline waited patiently as the cook laid a bowl of fragrant soup before her with an order to eat it all. The warmth filled her, and the taste was a testament to how masterful Mrs. Willow was. To her surprise, she finished the bowl and even nibbled on a roll.
Suddenly, Mrs. Willow bustled back into the room with a flurry.
“Mrs. Wil-”
“Cannot talk now, Miss Robins,” The cook rushed as she took out some beef from the oven, “Their Graces are back, and I must have their meals out.”
Caroline took that as a reason to stay put as in no way, shape or form did she want to come across the family. “How can I help?”
“Not a thing, luv,” Mrs. Willow said while pulling the tray of meat out, “I have it all under control.”
