Page 73 of The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor
“Think nothing of it, Captain Balfour,” Nicholas replied, rising. “I have already forsaken that part of our relationship.”
“I am glad to hear it, Your Grace,” Balfour exhaled, a small smile forming on his lips. “I look forward to working with you and advising you to the best of my ability, Duke Buford.”
Nicholas nodded and dismissed him, slowly rising from the heavy writing desk, his hands gripping the wood tightly. Looking down at his knuckles, he released a hot stream of breath and closed his eyes.
I am Nicholas, 6thDuke of Buford. Like my father before me, I will rule this region with pride and good men. I will see the 5thDuke of Buford proud, may he rest in peace.
Chapter 25
The insomnia had taken a turn for the worse, keeping Rose awake well into the wee hours of the morning, tossing about her bed.
There were so many thoughts flittering through her mind, each more daunting than the last and she feared that she would lose grips on her wits. The governess desperately wished that the Boyles were near, the desire to speak with them unbearable, particularly on those eves where sleep eluded.
Of course, she wrote letters and as springtime tried to break through the seemingly endless cold in Buford, she wondered if the warmth of the season would alleviate the heaviness which loomed over Rosecliff.
Rosecliff. I had never given much thought to the name of the manor, yet it is quite fitting, is it not? I have felt as if I have been dangling from a ledge since the5thduke has passed. Possibly before. There is so much which weighs on me in this place and yet so much which draws me. I am in a perpetual state of confusion.
Rose had forsaken the idea of encountering Nicholas in the darkened halls of the estate house. It was clear that his life was not the same as it had been before and whatever clandestine encounters they had managed in the past were precisely that—of the past.
Still, that did not stop Rose from gliding through the sleeping walls of Rosecliff when she was unable to sleep, hoping to ease her mind. Warm milk was no longer a remedy for her wakeful nights.
Soon, it will be springtime and I can venture out of doors to inhale the fresh night air. Surely, that will assist.
Yet Rose was not certain anything but the removal of Captain Balfour from the property would ease her mind.
She had tried several times to speak with Nicholas alone about what had happened with Captain Balfour in the schoolroom and how Harry had reacted to the man’s presence. However, it seemed that the new duke was constantly surrounded by people, just as his father had once been.
Moreover, Captain Balfour seemed omnipotent, never leaving Nicholas’ side. She watched in silence as Nicholas appeared to rely on the man more with each day that passed.
Stealing through the halls again, Rose listened to the now-familiar sounds of the manor settling for the night, the odd creaks no longer alarming her as they had. She was beginning to regard Rosecliff as home, albeit one which seemed laced with secrets about every corner.
Rose had learned the many nooks and crannies of the structure, finding passageways which she had no reason to find but for her late-night stalking. If she had been a lesser person, she might have taken advantage of the hiding spots to hear the comings and goings of the household. She admitted it was tempting to listen to the interviews held behind closed doors, but Rose had her own matters.
Harry had not spoken to her again about the captain, despite her gentle prodding and the man had not resurfaced in the schoolroom again. In fact, she saw as little of him as she did Nicholas, the captain replacing Peter Alderson as the duke’s man in almost all areas.
On the main floor of the grand house, a draft emanating, chilling Rose through her robes and she twisted the sash about her waist nervously. It felt as if the ghosts of Rosecliff were warning her not to proceed and yet she did not heed their subtle alarms. It was nothing she had not done night after night for months, wearing her own mind down until she fell into a fitful sleep near dawn.
The routine remained very much the same. She would wake and dress, collect the children and meet the duchess for breakfast before bringing Harry for his lessons. However, the afternoons were no longer reserved for hikes and banter, Betsey preferring to roughhouse with the other children and Harry retreating to his apartment until supper. After the evening meal, all would disperse into their respective directions once more and Rose was left alone again.
Rose longed for the company of the children and Nicholas, but she had little choice in the matter. All had moved on without her, enveloped in their own woes, none which required the lonely governess.
She paused suddenly, her eyes noting the flickering of light beneath the study doors. Her pulse quickened and she ventured toward the room, her ears honed to movement inside but she heard nothing.
It must be Nicholas,she thought, unable to imagine who else would be working at such an hour. Certainly not Peter in the apartment reserved for the duke but could it be Captain Balfour behaving in an uncouth manner?
Rose stood uncertainty, knowing she had no business in the study but it would provide her an opportunity to speak with Nicholas alone for the first time in weeks.
But if it is Balfour…
Rose did not permit herself another minute to consider, rapping gently on the door and inhaling as she waited for a response.
Dear Lord, please let it be Nicholas inside.
The door swung inward and Rose gasped at the surprising movement.
“Miss Rose?” Nicholas asked, his eyes filled with surprise. “What in God’s name are you doing awake at this hour?”
“I–” she faltered, her breaths escaping in short gasps as she tried to collect herself. Despite her private hope that he would be the one beyond the door, his nearness caught her by surprise.
