Page 80 of The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor
“He was our cousin,” Betsey snapped back. “Before he became the duke. Now he is much too occupied for us. He will not notice if we eat with the servants.”
The pain in her tone was evident but Rose was firm.
“I insist that you eat with the family,” she replied. “If you do not oblige me, I will be forced to inform the duchess of your unwillingness.”
Saying the words made her cringe inwardly but she had little choice in the matter. If the children decided to eat in the kitchen, she would also lose the fleeting opportunity to dine with Nicholas on such a rare occasion. Despite the dismissal he had given her concerns about Balfour, Rose admitted she did long for his companionship again, regardless of the shame it brought with it.
He was the only friend she had in Buford since the Boyles had returned and although she did adore the Arlingtons, she felt that she was more their older sister than their companion.
“You are as bad as the duke!” Betsey cried. “You would complain to the duchess?”
Moreover, he knows precisely how to deal with these tantrums.
“If I must tell the duchess, then I shall,” Rose fibbed. “Albeit, I would prefer you act like a lady and do as you are instructed.”
There was no chance Rose would do such a thing to the children. The duchess had enough with which to concern herself, and she did not need such petty disturbances added to her lot.
“You only wish to sit among them because you pine for Nicholas,” Betsey growled and Rose balked at the accusation.
“Betsey, mind your tongue!” Rose yelled. “Your behavior is unbecoming as of late.”
Betsey’s mouth formed a line and she glanced at her brother miserably. Harry seemed ready to sob as Rose led them into the dining room.
Rose was trying to be forgiving, knowing that both children were coping the best way they knew how. She only wished they would do it with far more grace.
“Please, Miss Rose,” Harry whispered. “He will be there.”
Betsey shoved past Rose in a muttering huff, leaving Rose with the youngest member of the family.
“Harry, you must tell me why Captain Balfour has you so afraid,” she told him softly. “Has he found a moment to get you alone?”
He nodded solemnly and Rose’s heart began to race as she looked about, concerned about being overheard. She pulled on his arm, guiding him into the back hallway and into the pantry.
“What has he to say?” Rose asked. “Do not lie, Harry. I can read a mistruth on your face from yards abound.”
Harry visibly gulped, his eyes wet with emotion.
“I already lied to you, Miss Rose,” he mumbled.
“Whatever about?” she implored.
“I have known Captain Balfour. He had come to our home in Arlington with frequency before our parents died.”
“Harry! Why in God’s name did you not tell me earlier?”
“I am afraid of him, Miss Rose. He is not a good man.”
Rose inhaled deeply and steeled herself from agreeing wholeheartedly with the boy’s assessment.
“What is it you fear? What has he said to you, Harry?”
The young lord fell silent and Rose worried he was about to withhold his worries once more.
“Harry, you must trust in me,” she implored. “Your secrets are safe with me and I will protect you.”
He looked up at her, his eyes shining.
“You will protect me?” he asked and Rose was taken aback by the question.
