Page 7 of The Secret Life of the Elusive Governess
Something funny was happening in her stomach, all the muscles were pulling in and tightening as the two walked back to the house.
“Good evening, Miss Robins,” he smiled at her silence as they parted at the foyer.
“Same to you, Your Grace,” Caroline replied as she curtseyed, then walked off. Halfway to the corridor, she turned to look at his retreating figure and eagerly drank in the sight of his dignified profile.
Hurrying to her room, she closed the door quietly and then sank onto the edge of her bed. She felt flushed and pressed a hand to her cheek. From there she slipped her fingers to her neck and felt the throbbing of her pulse.
Finally coming to a conclusion—one that she did not like as it was the definition of insanity—Caroline dropped her head into her hands and covered her eyes. There was no basis for her sudden attachment to him—none whatsoever. However, even with no solid ground, she felt the emotion soar.
What have I gotten myself into? I cannot do this. I cannot fancy him. His kindness is not an indication of anything more than his generosity. I cannot fancy him.
Her strident mantra grew fainter and fainter every time she tried to remind herself until it had no strength at all. Her words were powerless.
She went to bed with a single thought looming through her mind.
I do fancy him and by doing so I have doomed myself. How can I look him in the eyes without betraying myself? What will I do now?
Chapter 4
After Moses had spoken with Miss Robins in the garden, three days ago, a curiosity about her had claimed his mind. The Duke found himself wavering about his perceptions of the governess—and this certainly was not his first time doing so.
Miss Robins…why is it that you never fail to overtake my thoughts?
When the necessity of hiring a governess had come about two years ago, he had placed his housekeeper—Mrs. Harriet Kudrow—on the task to find one, and two weeks later she had reported to him the information on two. The first one was over sixty years, a matron with a long line of references from the noble families and years of tutoring experience.
And then there was a young woman, three-and-twenty, and newly appointed in the profession, with only one reference from Mother Superior Agnes from the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary in Stockton, Wiltshire. The letter was short but poignant—the head nun had lauded the candidate with prodigious praise.
The Duke had pondered for days on which one to appoint to the post and came to the conclusion that the older woman had had her time and it was only fair to allow someone else to prove herself. He had then ordered Mrs. Kudrow to make all the preparations for the newest addition to his household.
And prove herself she did.
He had not gone into much detail about her with his wife as he knew she would be testy about an orphan child turned adult governess in their home. Lavinia had been raised with the boundary lines of class sealed in her mind as law and she was no stranger to using the social cut.
Thanks be to God that she had not inquired too deeply about the governess and had only nodded when he had told her that one had been appointed.
Sighing, Moses went through the tax records of his tenants with a half a mind. The other half was contemplating if it was worth getting to know the governess at all. She was smart, he knew that but exactly how smart was she?
“Out of all the people in the house… she is probably the only one who I might carry a conversation with…” Moses outwardly mused while twiddling his quill. His half-open door was knocked on.
“Your Grace,” Hinds, the butler spoke from the doorway, “You summoned me?”
“Yes, Hinds,” Moses uttered as he dropped the quill into the inkpot, “Please come in and close the door.”
Knowing the man had learned his various tones over his ten years of service, Moses gestured for him to sit. “Hinds, Miss Robins has been with us two years, correct?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the butler replied, “And if you do not mind me offering my opinion, I believe she is doing a wonderful job.”
“I concur. Lady Josephine is rapidly progressing in French and young Lord Hayward is advancing in his Greek and Latin,” Moses replied. “Which is why I am considering giving her a bonus. Nothing too big, mind you, just a token by which she will know that she is appreciated. Remembering my old governess, I know that they are overlooked sometimes, and it can be a good thing to let them know their efforts are appreciated. Your thoughts on this matter, Hinds?”
The searching look on the butler’s face was one Moses chose to blithely ignore, but when the appraising look turned to a knowing one the Duke felt exasperated.
“I cannot say, Your Grace,” Hinds replied, “She is a quiet and contained soul and does not share much. I cannot readily assume what piques her fantasy at all.”
“Hinds, your words are sober but the light in your eyes tells me another story…just as the smirk I can see you are valiantly holding back.” His words prodded Moses to consider the one action he had been trying to avoid—asking her in person. “But then…. I suppose it is best to ask her directly.”
“I believe she would appreciate a direct exchange, Your Grace,” Hinds spoke. “I truly think so.”
Circling two fingertips on his forehead to massage out a sudden tension, Moses nodded. “I agree and thank you for your… reticence.”
