Page 24 of The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor
“I will rest,” Duke Buford said suddenly as if to deter any further conversation on the matter. He dropped his majestic head back against the seat and Nicholas moved to close the drape, ensuring darkness in the cab. Left alone to his thoughts, he replayed the issues heard in court, trying to make sense of what he had learned over the past day.
There is so much to know, so many politics to be played,he thought to himself. He knew that his father had carefully shielded him from the darker side of dukedom, allowing him only to attend interviews held in court but Nicholas was not naïve, not at thirty and one years of age. Nor was he a sheltered dandy, living in seclusion behind the walls of Rosecliff.
He spent much of his time socializing with the other earls, barons and marquesses, hearing rumors about the corruption which tainted every aspect of the country. Yet his father let him hear as little of it possible.
He is determined to keep me his young son forever but one day, I will be thrust into his life and it will be upon my lap.
Still, he could not fault his father. Duke Buford had many years left to serve in his position. Nicholas reasoned his father would properly and gradually introduce him to all he knew.
The rocking of the carriage brought Nicholas to the same place as his father, sleepily nodding off to the motion. His stomach lurched queasily and as he drifted off to sleep, he decided that at future congregations, he would drink only Adam’s Ale.
Not that I am without sin,he chuckled to himself, but he instantly stopped with the jest as he struggled to keep hold of his accounts.
* * *
Surprisingly, the journey to Buford seemed to be much less the distance than going to Cambridge. Of course, it was not but it seemed so to Nicholas who had spent a good deal of the trip asleep and willing his sense of sick to subside.
“I wonder if Mrs. Parsons arrived well,” the duke said unexpectedly as the coach and six made its way up the long road toward Rosecliff Manor.
Nicholas had all but forgotten about the new governess’ impending arrival and for a moment, he did not know of whom his father referred.
“Mrs. Parsons?”
“The children’s governess.”
“Ah yes. She has come quite a way for this position, has she not?”
“Dartford. She is a naval widow.”
Nicholas found himself mildly jolted by the revelation.
Perhaps she was not the old maid he had foreseen in his mind.
“How tragic.”
“Indeed. She is quite young from what I understand.”
He did not respond while the horses continued toward the estate. The information made him oddly forlorn as if he had some knowledge of the woman. His own eyes were trained on the pathway, taking in the structures appearing.
What would I think if I came upon this view for the first time?He wondered, thinking of how impressed the new governess must be.Have I become spoiled? Taking this splendor for granted?
He hoped not. It was not in his nature to ignore beauty, but it was almost commonplace to him now.
Rosecliff spread from east to west, two wide wings jutting from a center foyer. It was two storeys in height with an attic which ran the middle of the grand house, and a massive apartment which Nicholas had spent his boyhood exploring for hours.
The attic also housed the schoolroom with its blackboards and chalky aroma, a scent which Nicholas could smell in that very moment. Ivy covered the estate house high over the entranceway columns of white, and black shutters encased the plentiful windows. Beyond the house were barely visible stables, allotted for fifteen of the finest breeds available for transport and hunting. The servants’ quarters were beside and beyond was a brake before the thick of Buford Woods commenced.
To the far east, a pond lay, the birds and wildlife oft frolicking about in the still waters.
She is a sight to behold,Nicholas thought affectionately while the carriage drew to stop at the entranceway.I needn’t worry; I shall never tire of seeing her, no matter how long I have been here.
Peter appeared almost instantly, Theodore at his side and the men approached to assist the coachman in unloading their belongings.
“Good evening, Your Grace, my lord,” Peter greeted them. “Supper awaits you after your travels.”
“Thank you, Peter,” the duke said, stepping from the coach. “I trust all is well here?”
“Indeed, sir. Mrs. Parsons arrived last eve, quite late and she has taken the day to acquaint herself with Lord and Lady Arlington.”
