Page 18 of The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor
“Our new governess arrives today,” he explained. “Duchess Buford insisted Betsey and I be on our best behavior.”
Nicholas chortled.
“Is that within the realm of reason for your sister?”
“She has been confined to her quarters until Mrs. Parsons arrives.”
“Mrs. Parsons,” Nicholas repeated, the name sticking to the roof of his mouth like sap. “She sounds lovely.”
He wondered if his skepticism sounded in his voice.
“She is a widow,” Harry offered, staring at his shoes with nervous eyes and Nicholas could sense his reservations. “She comes from near Dartford.”
The man immediately envisioned a grey-haired crone with a shrewd tongue and quick strap. He hoped his analysis was inaccurate for the children’s sakes. Nicholas’ own governess had not been well-humored and lessons had not been pleasant in his boyhood.
Fortunately, I was spared the strap. Mrs. Johnson did show mercy in those instances.
“That is a fair journey to come from Dartford,” Nicholas offered.
Two days of travel by stagecoach,he realized.She will undoubtedly be weary when she arrives.
A flash of pity overcame him and he smiled reassuringly at Harry. He did not want to imagine what a fatigued, surly governess would have to say to an impressionable young boy.
“I am sure all will go swimmingly,” Nicholas announced bravely but Harry did not seem convinced.
Idly, he wondered how Eloise knew her replacement but the household staff was none of his concern and he pushed the thought from his mind.
That is Peter’s issue, not mine.
“I must dress,” he told Harry gently. “Mind Duchess Buford’s instructions. You would like to make a good impression upon Mrs. Parsons, especially if she comes from so far away. She will be without friends and in need of a friendly face, not mischief.”
“Indeed,” Harry agreed, stepping back but Nicholas could sense his reluctance to leave.
“Is there another matter, cousin?”
The boy’s gaze inched up Nicholas’ wrinkled nightshirt until it rested on his face.
“What ifsheis unbearable?” he whispered, cautiously looking over his shoulder as if he expected a spy to be waiting in the shadows. “What shall I do?”
“Did you enjoy tutelage under Miss Eloise?”
“Yes!” he replied passionately, in a fashion only a child could manage for such a trivial concern. “I did not mean to drive her from Rosecliff, I swear it!”
“You are far too young to swear anything,” Nicholas commented dryly.
“I only mean I would do anything to have her return!”
Nicholas saw that his governess’ departure had caused him a great deal of aguish, and he was abruptly irate with his mother for adding to the boy’s woe.
“You must be joyed for Miss Eloise and her impending nuptials. Finding a match at her age and with her social standing can be quite a trying experience,” Nicholas explained. “If you should choose to marry a governess one day, you would want her employers to send her off with good intent, not tears and caterwauling.”
He did not intend to sound harsh but even at the precious age of ten, the boy needed to understand the ways of manhood.
“Marry a governess?” Harry choked. “But, Nicholas, we are nobility!”
A burst of aggravation filled the marquess but he adeptly held his composure. He could not fault the boy for his antediluvian thinking. It was how his mother and father had raised him.
Not everyone believes in the notion of romantic marriage. Fortunately for Harry and I, we will be afforded the opportunity to wed the ones we love.
