Page 56 of The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Rose felt a pang of sadness for the boy, and as the duchess left the hall, she beamed at the children with extra enthusiasm, hoping to alleviate the discontent from the room.
“Lord Arlington, shall we trek to the bluffs today?” she asked cheerfully, desperately wishing away the stricken look from his face.
“I would rather not,” he replied, and Rose felt a pang in her chest. He adored the views from the cliffside and would oft plead with the governess to bring him there following their lessons.
“I would not go,” Betsey announced, crossing her arms under her blossoming bosom, a smirk on her face.
“You were not invited,” Rose told her, disliking the way the girl seemed to encourage her brother’s sullen mood.
“Tis a blessing I was not!” she insisted. “I daresay that it is a barbaric act – “
“Lady Arlington, that is quite enough!” Rose told her, her brow furrowing as the smile faded from her lips. “You are not helping matters by saying such things.”
“I do not mean to help matters,” Betsey replied sullenly. “I mean to have my brother stand up for himself.”
Rose stifled a sigh. She was in no mood to argue with a child, particularly when she agreed in that instance. If Harry did not wish to attend the hunt, he should not be made to do so.
This is not my concern. The duke has spoken.
“Come along, Lord Arlington. Finish your breakfast. We have lessons.”
Rose knew that it was bound to be a long morning, exaggerated by the fact that there was a good chance she was expected to spend the evening under the watchful eyes of Captain Balfour.
Her mind ventured back to the night, again wondering why he was outside in the dark and who had he met. She wracked her mind for details, pondering that perhaps he was in the throes of a sordid affair with one of the servants. Why else would he meet outside the house on such a frigid night?
“Miss Rose?”
She looked upward and realized that Harry awaited her from the doorway and she had been lost in thought. Whatever the reasoning behind Daniel Balfour’s stealthy encounter, it was none of her concern. She had enough with which to concern herself.
“I must see to the Boyles first,” Rose explained. “Shall I meet you in the schoolroom?”
“Yes, Miss Rose.”
The boy retreated toward the back stairs and Rose headed up to where her friends were staying. She had not seen them the previous night at supper and when she visited them after Harry had retired for the night, their quarters had been silent. Rose had assumed they had gone to sleep early.
Yet not seeing them at breakfast gave her a small fission of alarm. Were they unwell? Had they eaten since the day before at mid-day meal? Rose needed to ensure they were cared for prior to commencing the day’s plans with Harry.
As she raised her hand to knock on the door, she heard John’s voice rise and Rose realized the door to the apartment was slightly ajar.
“…terrible notion, Bridget. She has moved forward now. This is precisely what we wanted for her! We risk ruining her happiness with the truth!”
“I would be inclined to agree if that captain had not materialized, John but I daresay, he had dredged forth something which should have stayed buried,” his wife declared and Rose pressed her ear to the opening to hear them better.
They are discussing me,she realized, her heart pounding slightly at the realization.What is it I must know?
“Bridget, darling, I fear if we bring up such a thing, she will retreat into the same darkness which found her in Dartford. We arranged to send her here for a new beginning, away from the memories of Philip. It is counterproductive.”
“And if she learns that we have known all along? She will never forgive us for keeping it from her!”
“Captain Balfour will not tell her,” John insisted. “She has no opportunity to see him alone. Bridget. Moreover, he was not the one who told us. He kept it a secret, if you recall. Also, I suspect that she is developing feelings toward the marquess.”
“I noted that too,” Bridget murmured and Rose felt her face grow red. “I have seen the way they gaze at one another when they believe they are unobserved.”
What is the meaning of this? What terrible secret have they kept from me?
The idea that her dearest friends—the couple she felt closer to than anyone else in the world—could be deceiving her was unbearable and yet that seemed to be precisely what they were discussing.
