Page 3 of The Secret Life of the Elusive Governess
He entered just as Miss Robins was settling a tray on a small table. A lock of her hair had escaped her bun and was curving a delicate arc over her cheek to her chin, which Moses found enchanting.
She looked up and their eyes met for a moment before a soft flush trailed over her face as she curtseyed. “Good afternoon, Your Grace.”
Moses found himself speechless as she walked away and shifted on his heel to see her leave. What was it about Miss Robins?
Why do her eyes seem to enter into my soulso much deeper than anyone else? Even my wife…
But most importantly, what am I going to do about it?
Chapter 2
Present Time
With her hands clasped behind her, wearing a modest dark dress appropriate for a governess, Caroline Robins, the young educator of the Duke’s two children—Josephine and Nicholas, now seven and eleven respectfully—looked silently out the massive window of the schoolroom.
The second storey schoolroom had the perfect view of the stables and the wide pasture beyond. There, in the middle of the large span of land, was the children’s’ father, Moses Hayward, the Duke of Barley.
Caroline did not have to look at the massive grandfather clock in the corner of the room to know it was half an hour after one o’clock in the afternoon. Whenever he was home, the Duke always took his powerful thoroughbred for exercise at exactly that time.
The mount was so massive—his hide as black as the darkest night and his eyes deeper than the abyss—that Caroline privately feared for her master whenever he so much as approached it. Her fears were repudiated, however, each time he mounted with ease.
Her eyes were trained on the Duke as he expertly maneuvered the black beast over a series of jumps, each one higher than the one before it. The golden rays from above transformed the dark brown of his hair into a mass of dusky russet and played over his dark riding habit. She felt the warm glow of affection lighten her spirit.
Oh, how much of a ninny I am,Caroline softly scolded herself, while a smile curved her lips.I know he will fly over all of them, but I still worry.
The governess knew that she should have gone for her midday meal, but she wanted to wait for one special moment—the moment the Duke would give a rare smile.
It wasn’t much, merely a soft tilt of his lips that negated the somber expression he usually wore, but it was everything to the young woman. Warmth curled her stomach and she grasped the window sill and looked out further.
He becomes a different person when he smiles.
“Miss Robins?” came the sweet sound of seven-year-old Josephine from behind her.
Turning, Caroline smiled at the little girl, who had a smooth fall of golden hair over her shoulder and bright blue-green eyes, shades lighter than her father’s dark moss-green. “Yes, Lady Josephine?”
“Nicholas is teasing me again,” the sweet child said, her eyes brimming with tears. “Why is he so mean to me, Miss Robins?”
Folding her skirts under her, Caroline knelt and gave the child a warm smile, “He’s a boy, My Lady, and a brother. I am sure he loves you but finds it hard to show it. When you grow up, I am sure he’ll become so protective of you that you’ll wonder if he was mean to you at all.”
The little girl did not know it, but her brother was standing at the door and while speaking to Josephine, Caroline spotted a red streak of shame cross the eleven-year-old boy’s ruddy face as he looked down and scuffed his boot.
“Do you believe me, My Lady?” Caroline asked softly, and smiled when the child nodded and flung herself into her arms. Hugging her, Caroline smelt the rose-water scent on the child’s clean hair before squeezing her with an assuring touch.
Two years as their governess and Caroline still wondered how these children had grown so attached to her, to the point that she gained hugs sometimes. “Wonderful. Now please sit. We have to get back to your arithmetic, Lady Josephine and your Latin, Lord Hayward.”
“Yes, Miss Robins,” both children chorused as they sat.
* * *
The evening had come faster than Caroline had imagined and after releasing the children to their nurse, she had gone back to her modest servants’ quarters at the very back of the west wing.
After unbinding her hair from the relentless bun it was captured into, Caroline raked her hand through the long auburn tresses that stretched to her mid-back and sighed in relief. Soft hunger pains from her missed meal were harassing her stomach and she knew it was time to find some sustenance.
The light from the candle was getting dim but she managed to use it to wash her face and don a nightgown and robe. Slipping her slippers on, Caroline left the room in search of food. The servant's wing—the West Wing—was separated from the main one that housed the Duke, the Duchess and their two children, Josephine and Nicholas, with much fewer amenities. Both wings, however, shared the centrally located kitchen.
Caroline entered the warm room and found a covered glass of milk and a tray of rolls and cold butter sitting beside a slice of apple pie. Tender appreciation evoked a small smile on her face as she knew that it was the butler, Hinds, and Mrs. Willow, the head cook, who had left the food out for her.
Sitting and smiling, Caroline quietly ate her supper. While coddling her milk, she sat there, pondering, when a shuffle altered her to someone coming in—it was the head cook, Mrs. Willow.
