Page 34 of The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor
“I find that difficult to believe, Miss Rose. I do not believe I have ever seen Harry on the road to recovery quite so quickly.”
“Perhaps the tonic worked after all, my lord.”
“Perhaps it was the attention you bequeathed upon him.”
They locked eyes for a long moment until Rose looked away, her ears burning. She could not bring herself to believe that she was an object of interest to the marquess nor did she aspire to be. Yet she could not deny that having a friendly acquaintance with the man would be beneficial to everyone in the household.
I imagine one day, he will make a kind and excellent match to a most fortunate duchess or princess.
Did the idea send a sliver of unease through her?
Do not be a fool!She cried to herself, sitting back against the pillows again, her smooth hand on Harry’s forehead.There can never be another for you now. You will never care for anyone the way you do Philip.
“Mama?”
She cocked her head to look down at Harry.
“No, Lord Arlington, it’s me, Miss Rose,” she murmured. “How do you fare?”
He sat up slowly, blinking his myopic blue eyes as he stared at her.
“You wear the same toilet water as my mother,” he mumbled, and Rose felt a stab of shame.
“My apologies, Lord Arlington. I will never do it again,” she promised tenderly. If not for church that morning, she would not have worn it at all.
“No!” Harry cried. “I like it. It – it reminds me of her and it has been so long since I have been reminded of her.”
Rose nodded and opened her arms as Harry buried his face into her lap, not wanting her to see the tears but before either of them could say another word, there was a soft rap on the heavy door.
“May I enter?”
Betsey’s head poked through, her gleaming, dark hair tucked into a velvet bonnet of red plaid, and as Harry sat up to see what was occurring, her body appeared in a lovely dress gold and scarlet. No sooner had she crossed the threshold did Lord Buford join her. He adorned a beard, aging himself as if he was St. Nicholas, carrying a picnic basket of wicker.
“Happy Christmas!” he chortled. “Yule time tidings, young man! I learned that you were unable to join your sister caroling this evening, so we have decided to bring the caroling to your bedside!”
“Tis not Christmas!” Harry laughed, his chuckles evaporating into a coughing spasm.
“Nonsense! Any day could be Christmas!” Lord Buford insisted.
“And any day is a day for a picnic!” Betsey squealed, running to throw herself onto her brother’s bed. Harry’s sky colored eyes lit up at the sight of his sister in her Christmas best and his noble cousin dressed in such foolishness, but he did sit up, despite his fever.
“The duchess will not approve of this,” Harry mumbled, and Rose had the same thought, but she was not about to deprive the child of the first smiles she had seen all day. The wrath of the duchess was a small price to pay for a child’s happiness.
Rose ambled to her feet, smoothing the pink of her church gown where it had wrinkled. On the floor, Nicholas had lay a gingham blanket near the hearth and threw several more logs on the fire to ensure Harry would be kept warm throughout their meal. He did not seem to notice her eyes on him as he continued to set up the children’s picnic but with every move he took, Rose found herself insurmountably endeared.
I must recall to write the Boyles and tell them of how the Marquess of Buford got onto the cold, dirty floor, donning such an outfit to befit his cousins with a picnic. They would never believe royalty behaves in such a way. They will accuse me of exaggeration.
Even as she watched it with her own two eyes, Rose could barely conceive what was happening, but when he was finished, Nicholas gestured for the children and her to join him on the blanket where he doled out bits of cheese and bread, pouring wine into goblets he had snuck from the armoire in the formal dining room.
“Nothing is too good for my family,” he told them, raising his glass to present a toast. “Shall we always be together, in good health and bad.”
“Hear hear!” the Arlingtons chimed, touching their sips of port to his. Rose said nothing, her heart beginning to race as his toast echoed in her ears. In that moment, there was no pain or sorrow. There was only a family gathered around a fireplace, jesting and snacking on morsels of cheese.
She wanted nothing more than to cling to the sensation of happiness which filled her chest in those moments, to live them as if they were to be the last moments of her life. When he looked up at her, his eyes sparkling becomingly, Rose realized that accepting the posting as Harry’s governess had done so much more than simply given her hope for the future. It had given her a reason to leave her past in Dartford and open her heart to the possibilities coming.
In my mind, he has become Nicholas to me. I hope I do not dare say such a thing aloud and certainly not before the duke and duchess. I will be terminated at once!
Rose wondered if that was the reason for the unexpected fear which suddenly tainted the moment and left her breathless but as Nicholas continued to stare at her, she noticed his eyes darken slightly as if he, too, shared in her worrisome, private thought.
