Page 43 of The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor
It was clear that her blatant display of sentiment was growing irksome to her employers and she pleaded with herself to stop the tears.
“Come along, children,” Duchess Buford called. “We must ready ourselves for services this morning. Let us leave the Boyles and Miss Rose to reacquaint themselves.”
“Miss Rose, you will not join us at church?” Harry asked, his dark blue eyes wide with worry. Rose glanced at the Boyles apologetically before turning back to Harry.
“Of course we shall,” she replied. “Permit me a moment with Mr. and Mrs. Boyle and I, too, will ready myself for service.”
Harry seemed content with the arrangement and disappeared after his aunt and sister but Nicholas remained.
Realizing that the marquess had no intention of leaving, Rose offered, “Lord Nicholas Buford, may I present my dearest friends, Mr. John Boyle and his wife, Bridget?”
“Charmed, Mr. Boyle, Mrs. Boyle.”
Bridget attempted a stiff curtsy and John bowed his head slightly to show his respect. An insurmountable pride swelled up inside Rose. Clearly, the couple was uncomfortable in the opulence of Rosecliff, the manor house unlike any place they had ever known in their lives.
“How was your journey?” Nicholas asked, and Rose cast him a quick glance as he settled onto the chaise, apparently determined to stay.
I have only a short time alone with them and yet he is monopolizing it. This is rude and uncharacteristic of him.
Rose wisely said nothing, maintaining a serene smile on her mouth. She had no reason to be upset. Perhaps they would not speak then but they had only just arrived. There would be time enough for everyone to get acquainted.
“I fear my old bones do not handle the roads well, my lord,” John confessed. “Twas a long one, for certain.”
“Indeed,” Nicholas said, nodding. “I will have Theodore draw you a bath with salts at once. There is nothing quite like hot to soothe the ache of tired muscles.”
“That is not necessary, my lord!” John protested quickly. “I – I am certain rest will be all I require.”
A small smile formed on Nicholas’ lips and he looked at Rose.
“Tis not difficult to see how birds of a feather do flock together,” he said. “You have the same manners as Miss Rose.”
“Miss Rose taught us her good manners,” John mumbled, embarrassed by the attention.
“I have no doubt,” Nicholas chuckled, amused. “In any event, Rosecliff Manor is at your disposal. We are a family here and whatever you require is merely an ask away. The servants are pleased to oblige.”
“That is very kind, my lord,” John mumbled. “Thank you.”
Rose could see that the older man did not know where to shift his eye and she caught his stare, beaming reassuringly.
“I do have but one inquiry for you,” Nicholas said, raising an eyebrow. It had only just crossed his mind.
“Yes, my lord?”
“How long ago did you make plans to journey to Buford?”
There was a pointedness to his question and Rose wondered why it was a matter for Nicholas, but she maintained her quiet and allowed John to respond.
“A fortnight perhaps?” he answered slowly, glancing at his wife for confirmation. “Duchess Buford did say that Rose had requested our presence.”
“Pardon me?” Rose interjected, her eyes widening. “She wrote you two weeks past and said I sent for you?”
The Boyles’ faces grew more uncomfortable if possible.
“What is it, child?” Bridget asked. “Would you have us leave?”
“Goodness no!” Rose cried, spinning to look at Nicholas, unsure he would ask such a thing. “I have never been happier to see anyone in my life. Now come along, let me speak to Theodore about your quarters. You must rest and when I return from church, we will speak and you will tell me about Dora.”
“That goat,” John grumbled and Rose giggled, imaging what trouble the mischievous beast was getting into on the Boyle’s farm. A pang hit her heart as she envisioned her tiny horns bucking into Rose’s leg, bleating for food.
