Page 71 of The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor
“As you wish. You are the duke.”
She offered him a warm smile, but the words did not inspire the confidence she had hoped when she had spoken.
I will never be the duke my father was, no matter how long Captain Balfour stays.
“Good night, darling,” Duchess Buford said, turning toward the doorway. “I will see you on the morrow.”
“Mother?”
“Yes, Nicholas?”
“How are the children faring in the wake of all this?”
His mother inhaled tiredly and shook her head gravely.
“As well as can be expected. They have lost so many people and they are but children. Betsey spends much of her time running amok with the servant’s children, getting into fist fights. And Harry…”
“What of Harry?”
“He seems to have closed himself from the world as of late.”
“What has Rose said regarding this?”
“Nothing. She has not come to me about it, but I would be blind not to see what is happening beneath my very nose. If he becomes incorrigible, I am certain she will discuss it with me.”
Nicholas eyed his mother worriedly.
“I will speak with the children,” he announced. “They cannot mope about. It is unhealthy for everyone and Rose cannot handle insubordination in silence.”
“You have enough with which to trouble yourself. The household is my responsibility, particularly now that Peter is at your beck and call.”
“Mother, please ensure they are well. If anything were to happen to them…”
“Nothing will happen to them,” Duchess Buford insisted. A slow smile formed on her thin lips.
“Nor will anything become of yourRose.”
“Mother, I haven’t any idea what you are implying.”
“I imply nothing. I comment on your address of Harry’s governess.”
Nicholas’ head jerked up and he looked at his mother in surprise. He had not realized that he had spoken so casually in front of her.
He had been so consumed with work and coping with the abrupt death, Nicholas had so few opportunities to see Rose or the children. Yet that did not mean he did not think about them frequently throughout his hectic days.
He never forgot the promise Rose had sworn on the stoop of the manor. She had vowed to help him deal with the death but there had been no chance to grieve.
I am a duke now. I will not have the time to pursue Rose, to steal glances of her in the halls of Rosecliff. All has changed and yet I feel closer to her than I ever have before.
Was it because of their common loss? Was it because he had seen the terror in her face that night and the relief to see him return, unharmed? Nicholas could not say for certain.
“I only jest with you, Nicholas,” the duchess sighed. “I daresay you have lost your charms with this unyielding stress consuming you. You must heed my advice and pace yourself accordingly. It does Buford no benefit should you fall ill, does it?”
The question was rhetorical, and the duchess smiled to take the sting from her words.
“I suggest you make time to speak with the children and Miss Rose but not of death and sadness. Before all this struck, there was a closeness forming between you.”
Nicholas swallowed his denial, noting the knowing look in his mother’s eyes.
