Page 26 of The Viscount's Daring Cinderella
Theodore chuckled. “As you wish, Lady Beryl.”
They had just arrived at the village. Theodore and the steward went off to meet with the farmers. Apparently, the viscount had established a farmers’ cooperative of some sort. The farmers were coming together to discuss advancements in how they grew crops and modern machinery. Theodore was informing them of things he had learned on the continent.It seems that he was not only cavorting, but he had actually learned a thing or two that he thought he could adopt at Bowden Park.
Interestingly, he tried to portray himself as such a bounder who thrived on a carefree existence, but clearly, there was more to him than that. Evidently, he had chosen not to worry about the position he found himself cast in, and he worried even less about thehaut ton. In all their encounters thus far, he seemed relaxed and carefree, while Beryl tended to worry. It was only when her father became ill that she became a worrier, for she, too, had a more carefree existence. She had no need to be concerned about her welfare because she had always been provided for.
Now everything is so different, she silently said, suppressing her sigh.
They had gone off to the meeting hall, and Beryl decided she wanted to remain outdoors. She dismounted and started to stretch her legs, smiling when the horse followed. It was a fine animal. The viscount had great taste in horses.
Beryl’s thoughts turned to the viscount’s nieces. She was sure she was perfectly capable of teaching a seven-year-old and a five-year-old. She could hardly say that the role would suit her perfectly because it was not what she wished for herself. She had never envisioned what it would be like living in someone’s household and taking care of their children. Would she be any good at working for someone? Beryl closed her eyes and swiftly prayed. She truly hoped it would not be awful and that she would not come to regret it.
CHAPTER 10
They had just returned to Bowden Park, and the steward bid his farewell. They could hear the girls’ shrieks, and it appeared to be coming from the garden.
“This seems to be a good time for you to meet the children,” Theodore said.
“Very well,” Beryl replied with a small smile.
They proceeded down the path in the direction of shrieks and giggles until they came upon the girls. They chased each other around the fountain, engrossed in their romping.
“Louise and Mattie, come here please. Your governess is here,” Theodore said.
Both girls spun around to face them, and they immediately stopped giggling. They walked hand in hand toward Theodore.
“Girls, this is Lady Beryl. May I present Louise and Mattie?”
Both girls curtsied and said, “I am pleased to meet you, Lady Beryl.”
“I remember mother said that one day we would have a governess,” Louise said, her gaze wide and curious.
“Mother is in heaven with the angels, Lady Beryl. That is what uncle said and I cannot visit her,” Mattie said as her lashes grew wet with tears.
Beryl could not imagine the pain these children felt. The poor darlings had lost both their mother and father and the pain was unimaginable. She knew that it was impossible to protect a child from the pain of a loss, and it would be an ongoing process. She could only try to make Louise and Mattie feel safe. Louise was not as emotional as Mattie, which was understandable since she was the eldest. Surely, they would cope with their grief differently. As Beryl knew all too well, there was no right or wrong way to grieve. She was an emotional wreck when her father passed away, and she was overwhelmed by the pain. Healing was a journey. Kindness and patience were what the girls needed.
Beryl dropped to her knees and gazed at each girl in turn. “I am very pleased to meet you both. I know you are feeling very sad because you lost your mother. I am feeling sad too. You see, I lost my father. You loved your mother very much, and I loved my father, and I would like you to remember that your mother loved you very much.”
Louise smiled, showing her missing tooth. “Yes, Lady Beryl. She always told us.”
Mattie’s voice trembled as she said, “I have been sad ever since mother died. I miss her, and when I think of her, sometimes it makes me cry.”
Theodore inhaled sharply, and Beryl suspected this was the first he heard of Mattie’s sorrow.
Beryl reached her hand to brush away a tear that made its way down Mattie’s cheek. “It is permissible to cry, Mattie. Crying can make you feel less sad because it goes away for a little while. I cried for my father.”
Both girls’ eyebrows shot up.
“You did?” Louise asked.
“Yes,” Beryl replied.
“And it made you feel better?”
“It did indeed.” Beryl placed a hand on her heart. “I found releasing the feelings I had inside, rather than keeping them here, was very helpful.”
“Oh,” Mattie said in wonderment.
“I am sad, but sometimes I am angry. Both mother and father are gone. We have no parents,” Louise said.
