Page 13 of Daring the Forbidden Earl
“They are indeed,” Johanna replied.
Mrs. Roberts sank back in her chair with a sigh. “You may leave them with Emily.” She paused. “You don’t happen to know of any governesses who wouldn’t mind taking a position here, do you? The Countess has put so much of her own money into educating the children, yet we can’t entice anyone to teach them. They hear ‘orphanage’ and they are immediately averse.”
“If you cannot, I am sure the Countess would not mind taking on the position herself.” Johanna had already spoken to Nora about the possibility, and her friend had been more than enthusiastic about the idea. However, Nora had also alluded to the fact that Mrs. Roberts would not dare to ask her, now that she was a Countess instead of a courtesan.
Mrs. Roberts shook her head effusively. “Goodness, no. I’m sure she’s much too busy running a household, or whatever Countesses do. I couldn’t ask her to do such a demeaning thing.”
“Nevertheless, you should ask her,” Johanna insisted. “Iknowshe would do it, without question.”
Mrs. Roberts pursed her lips in consternation. “Perhaps… but only if I can’t fill the position any other way. The Countess has already done so much for us.” She gestured to her surroundings. “You should have seen this building before she came along. You would not recognize it. We owe her everything, and we owe a great deal to you, too, Mrs. Carlton.”
“Nonsense.” Johanna fidgeted awkwardly, uncomfortable with the compliment. “I do not do nearly enough.”
Mrs. Roberts smiled. “You do more than you think.”
“Anyway, I must be getting these books to Emily. They are growing rather heavy.” Johanna had never taken compliments well, for she was unused to receiving them. Her parents had never bothered to shower her with kind words, as theirs had been a tougher sort of love, designed to make her impervious to the world’s insults and challenges.
Turning away from the office door, she crossed the bright, airy expanse of the main entrance area. At a desk on the far side of the room, she found Emily Jones—a young, fair girl of eight-and-ten, who had once been an orphan here herself, before she became the only permanent staff, besides Mrs. Roberts.
“Mrs. Roberts said I should leave these with you.” Johanna handed over the stack of books, intended to help the children to read and write.
Emily flipped through the first few pages of the top book. “Makes me wish I’d learned me letters.”
“You do not know how?” That surprised Johanna, for she had assumed that Mrs. Roberts would have taught her ingénue.
Emily shook her head. “Mrs. Roberts tried, but I never had the patience, so I gave up. So did she.” The young woman cackled cheerfully, bringing a smile to Johanna’s lips.
That was the beauty of being here. At the orphanage, she did not have to think about anything beyond these walls. She concentrated solely upon the children, and their needs, and anything she could do to help them. It might have sounded grim and miserable to those who were unfamiliar with this place, but Johanna found it to be a constant source of delight, and gratitude, and joy.
Just then, a familiar face entered through the main doors. “Johanna! I hoped you might be here.” Nora hurried over and embraced Johanna warmly, though Johanna returned the hug with customary stiffness. She had never grown accustomed to such free, easy displays of affection, even with her dearest friend.
“She’s been here every day. Where else would she be?” Emily teased, popping a barley sugar into her mouth. She had a bag of them under the desk, a gift from Nora.
Nora laughed amiably. “How are you feeling today?”
“Better,” Johanna replied. “I have overcome the terror that I am the gossip of all London, at least.”
Nora gave her a playful nudge. “Don’t you try and take my crown.” Her expression softened. “You’d have to do far worse than argue with Carlton to find yourself in the scandal sheets.”
“I do not suppose you have seen him?” Johanna picked a speck of lint off the desk in order to mask her agitation.
Nora produced a letter from her cloak pocket. “Actually, I have. He came to the townhouse just this morning, asking if I could pass this on to you.” She pushed the item into Johanna’s hand, likely knowing that it would not be taken willingly. “He did not stay, though, and seemed rather sheepish. I would have boxed his ears myself for being so rude to you at the ball, but I had Miranda in my arms.” She nodded to the letter. “Perhaps it is a well-deserved apology.”
“I doubt it,” Johanna grumbled, eyeing the square of paper with a plain seal upon the back. Clearly, Mark had not even bothered to use his personal one.
Despite the humiliation and upset he had caused her, she still could not forget the way it had felt to be pressed against him, with his hand around hers. She could not recall the last time she had been that close to a man, but it was not desperation or loneliness that ignited the fire within her, whenever she thought of him. It was that glint of longing that she could have sworn she had seen, before her sharp words chased it away.
Unless I imagined it, because I wanted to see it…
It would not have been the first time she had imagined a man feeling something for her that he did not. And that mistake had burned her, the last time.
“Stranger things have happened,” Nora replied, giving Johanna an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “Would you like to dine at the house tonight, or do you have other arrangements?”
Johanna hesitated. “I thought I might dine alone tonight. I have neglected my housekeeper, and she does so hate to be left on her own. Would you mind?”
“Not at all!” Nora insisted. “My old housekeeper is an honorary member of my family now, so I understand entirely. She used to weep for days whenever we went anywhere without her.”
Johanna breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
