Page 81 of The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor
“Of course, Harry. I am your friend and your governess. Tis my duty to keep you safe.”
The boy erupted into a puddle of tears, sniffling loudly as Rose extended her arms, drawing him to her skirts.
“There there,” she cooed. “Whatever it is, it cannot be so terrible. You shall feel better when you speak the words aloud.”
She waited as the child struggled to compose himself, her hands caressing his thick mop of hair until he was able to speak once more.
“He is a bookmaker from the gold hells,” Harry whispered and Rose gaped at the boy.
“Pardon me!”
“Tis a fact, Miss Rose. He is employed by the gold hells to collect their debts when the men fall behind in payments. My father…he was also a gamester and Captain Balfour oft came to the duchy to collect. He has seen me on many occasions.”
A feeling of sick swept through Rose and she swooned, her body touching the door of the pantry.
“He is a captain in the Royal Navy!” she gasped. “This cannot be right!”
“It is, Miss Rose. Tis why he wished to see me alone, to warn me not to speak to anyone of what I know. He told me if I did…”
“What did he say, Harry? You must tell me!”
“He claimed I would meet the same fate as my uncle.”
Rose was having difficulty breathing but she willed herself to remain calm as prickles of hot and cold pierced her flesh in unison. She could not faint, not when Harry was expecting her to be strong in the wake of his confession.
I will not show my horror upon my face.
“He is dreadful for instilling such fear in you,” Rose choked, clenching her palms into fists to keep her hands from trembling. “He will pay for uttering such nonsense.”
“Miss Rose, do you suppose he hurt the 5thduke?” Harry whispered in a way which told her that he did believe such a thing.
“Your uncle’s death was a terrible accident,” she replied, wishing assuredness into her tone. “Captain Balfour is cruel for suggesting otherwise, especially when the household is attempting to move forth.”
“We will never move forth,” Harry sighed. “Not while Captain Balfour is in Rosecliff.”
“Hush now, Harry. You must not let him scare you and that is all he intends to do. Off to supper with you, now. I will join you in a moment.”
“Miss Rose! He is there! I cannot go alone!”
“As are your sister and the duke and duchess. You will have nothing to fear of Captain Balfour. He cannot and will not hurt you, Harry. I swear it.”
He gazed at her uncertainly but she nodded, gesturing for him to go. As he shuffled out of the pantry, Rose released a strangled gasp, horror clinging to her heart.
A dozen memories flooded her despite her attempt to keep them at bay.
In her mind’s eye, she saw Philip stumble through the front door of their house, drunk and wild-eyed.
“Where in God’s name have you been?” she cried, leaping from the rocking chair by the hearth. “I have been out of my mind with worry!”
“I lost it all!” he babbled, shaking his head in resignation. “All of it!”
“What say you? Lost what?”
“Our rent, Rose! I gambled it away and we have no way to pay!”
How many times had he done it before? How many times had he done it after, despite promising me that he would stop visiting the copper hells and running debts? He hid it from me! He must have! There were so many instances of money missing, of late rent paid. It cannot be a coincidence that Captain Balfour is a bookmaker and Philip had an issue with gambling, bordering on the fetish.
The Boyles had told her that Philip’s death was suspicious, had they not? And Balfour had kept it secret. If not for Lieutenant Walters, she would have never known the truth behind her husband’s death.
