Page 9 of The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor
“I am feeling much better,” Rose assured her quickly. “Leave this and go to John.”
“John is rounding up the livestock,” Bridget answered gently. “I believe Dora has terrorized the chickens again and sent them running through the fields and into the swamps. He will collect me when he has finished.”
Bridget smiled and shook her head.
“I do not know how you manage with that nanny goat. She is the devil incarnate.”
Rose was momentarily at a loss of what to do and she stood awkwardly, watching as Bridget skilfully wrapped the food to keep it safe from critters.
If not for the Boyles, the animals would have been untended, Rose realized with shame. She had not once considered her livestock since receiving the news.
“I have been insufferable these past days,” Rose sighed. “Forgive me.”
Bridget paused and looked at her with sympathetic eyes.
“Nonsense. There is no greater anguish than losing a love. You have held up quite well.”
She is being kind. I have been incorrigible. I haven’t a clue how she has indulged me.
“Please, Bridget, permit me to do this,” Rose insisted, stepping further into the kitchen. “I must grow accustomed to the idea that Philip is not returning.”
Bridget examined her with wise brown eyes.
“Rose, I do not mean to sound crass but you have been alone for two years. It is not much of an adjustment.”
A flare of indignation shot through Rose’s body.
“It is!” she proclaimed. “I have spent this time pining for my husband, certain he was days from returning. Now I am left with the reality that I will never see him again, never hold him, never bear his children – “
Her voice cracked. Bridget hurried toward her, embracing Rose’s quivering body in her arms.
“Hush now, child. You are much stronger than you believe. You will prevail and move on with your life.”
“What life?” Rose insisted. “I am twenty and four, an orphaned widow without heirs! What future could I possibly have now?”
“You are being melodramatic,” Bridget sighed. “You will remarry and become a mother. There is no greater gift than that of motherhood.”
“Remarry?” Rose gasped, pulling herself from her neighbor’s arms. “I have no desire to remarry! My husband is dead and there cannot be another for me.”
Bridget smiled mirthlessly.
“You cannot know what God has planned,” she replied. “You must not close your eyes to possibilities.”
The words made Rose’s stomach churn. She knew Bridget was attempting to comfort her, but the woman’s statements only added to her already insurmountable sadness.
“You will see. I will die here, on our land, alone and childless.”
Bridget did not respond but Rose caught a shadow of worry cross over her wrinkled cheeks.
“What is it? Why do you fret?”
“The pastor has left something for you,” Bridget announced, wiping her hands on her apron before reaching for a small satchel and sheet of paper. Rose reached for them, her eyes narrowing in confusion.
“What is this?”
“Donations,” Bridget replied quietly. “From the district.”
Rose quickly scanned the letter, her pulse quickening.
