Page 82 of The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor
I still do not know the truth behind Philip’s death,she thought, her heart racing.I must find out all I can.
Rose pushed herself off the wall and straightened her floucning skirt with shaking hands. She had taken special care to dress for supper that night, knowing that Nicholas would be present but suddenly, she did not care about her appearance.
Stepping from the closet, she raised her head proudly, the tendrils of hair spilling from her high-coifed do tickling the base of her long, pale neck and she glided toward the dining room.
Nicholas did not believe her about Balfour but Harry had been threatened. If Rose was correct, the man sitting at the duke’s side was a murderer, a killer for money.
It was not until Rose’s eyes rested on Balfour did something else occur to her.
It is not a coincidence that he is here. If my theory is correct, Philip owed him money and he has come here to collect; from me.
* * *
It was the most uncomfortable Rose had ever been inside Rosecliff. She kept her eyes carefully trained on her dishes and avoided conversation, excruciatingly aware of both Nicholas and Balfour staring at her across the table.
“Miss Rose, you haven’t contributed much to the evening,” Duchess Buford declared, sensing the tension emanating from the governess. “Have you anything to say?”
“No, Your Grace.”
The duchess sighed and lowered her fork, gazing at her niece and nephew with near contempt.
“I daresay, between the three of you, I feel as if I am at a wake,” the duchess exclaimed and all eyes turned to her in shock. It was much too soon to be making any such comments. Yet as Rose studied the lady of the house for the first time in any detail, she realized that the duchess no longer donned black as a symbol of her mourning.
“I would happily eat in the galley!” Betsey announced, a pout puckering her rosebud mouth as she slid her chair back, ready to spring from her seat.
“You will remain in your seat and behave as a member of this household!” Duchess Buford snapped. “Moreover, I will not have doom and gloom enshrouding this table when we so rarely have the duke and his advisors present.”
Betsey muttered incoherently, folding her arms beneath her bosom in an expression of defiance but her aunt was having none of it.
“Unfold your arms, Lady Arlington. Why, in my day, my governess would have strapped me for such insolence!”
“Miss Rose is not Lady Arlington’s governess,” Nicholas commented dryly and Rose shot him a grateful look but as she stared toward him, her eyes fell on the captain’s bemused expression. Immediately, Rose glanced away, her eyes returning to the fine plates before her.
“Given Lord Arlington’s sulking, I daresay she is permitting him to run amok also. Good God, children, you must not permit the past to overshadow your futures. The world is rife with opportunity and beauty. You must seize it and allow it wash away your dismal thoughts.”
Rose was confused by the duchess’ words and as she slowly lifted her head to look at Nicholas, she could see he felt the same.
Why has she abruptly forsaken her grief? Only days ago, she was murmuring about the late duke. Today she is finely dressed in yellow and smiling in a way I have never seen.
“You seem to be in gay spirits, Your Grace. Dare I ask what has brought about your cheer?” Nicholas asked as if reading Rose’s thoughts. The younger woman watched the duchess closely and to her shock, the duchess blushed. As the heat rose from her bare neck up to her plump cheeks, Duchess Buford laughed.
“As I said, Your Grace,” she replied evasively. “The time for mourning has passed. If we permit the past to follow us, we shall never move ahead.”
Once more, Rose turned her head toward Nicholas but his smile froze on his face as he matched his mother’s gaze. As if time had slowed around them, she also followed their jade irises as both rested on one man—Captain Balfour.
Rose gasped aloud, her hand flying to her mouth as she instantly understood the implication of what had happened. The duchess’ desire to forget about the past and forsake the duke’s death, her subtle smiles and passive glances.
“What is it, Miss Rose?” Harry asked, alarm filling his tone. “Are you ill? Are you poisoned?”
“Poisoned?” the duchess laughed. “My goodness, really, Harry. What have you been reading?”
Lowering her hand and forcing a smile, she responded with as much ease as she could muster.
“All is well, Lord Arlington,” she told him, hoping there was confidence in her tone. She needed not have the children upset by what she had learned but it was clear from Nicholas’ expression that he had come to the same conclusion about his mother’s newfound contentment; the Duchess of Buford was being courted by Captain Daniel Balfour.
Chapter 28
It was too much for Nicholas to accept and he shook his head in disbelief.
