Chapter 5
“Have you forgotten how to mount a horse, or are you simply admiring the saddle?” Henry’s voice echoed across the courtyard, bright and unhelpfully entertained.
Wilhelm fastened the last buckle on his glove and swung into the saddle with practiced ease. “I was waiting for you,” he replied dryly.
“A lie,” Henry said cheerfully as he mounted his own horse. “But a charming one, so I’ll allow it.”
Wilhelm clicked his tongue, urging his stallion forward. “Are you coming, or shall I ride alone and enjoy the quiet?”
“Threats already,” Henry mused, gathering his reins. “We haven’t even reached the gate.”
They rode out side by side, the horses settling into an easy pace along the packed snow. Wilhelm kept his gaze forward, letting the familiar rhythm of hooves calm the restless pull in his chest.
Henry had always been like this: quick-witted, irreverent, entirely too perceptive.
They had grown up together, shared tutors, fencing masters, half their childhood scrapes, and more responsibilities than either of them ever admitted to feeling.
Where Wilhelm was severity and restraint, Henry was mischief in boots, lord of a prosperous neighboring estate and a perpetually inconvenient source of truth.
It made him an excellent companion, and, at times, an infuriating one.
As they rode in silence, Wilhelm willed the steady rhythm of hooves and the cold morning air to distract him, but his mind continued to circle back to the same images that had unsettled him for the past week.
The smear of dirt across Miss Watton’s cheek, the wild looseness of her hair, the warm weight of her body when she collided with him in the corridor, her pulse fluttering beneath his hands.
He could not forget the way her wide eyes lifted to his with startled heat or how her lips parted while a faint tremor ran through her when he stepped too close…
A governess should not look like that. She should not occupy his thoughts as though his mind had nothing better to do than repeat the memory of her pressed against him, warm and flushed and utterly unaware of how tempting she had been at that moment.
He scowled at the path ahead.
Completely unacceptable.
Yet the memory persisted, vivid as color against snow.
He shifted in the saddle, irritated with himself, with the quiet, with the fact that his own head refused to obey him. The wind tugged at his coat, cold enough to bite, but not nearly cold enough to rid him of her.
They crested a small rise, the open valley spreading beneath them in pale winter light. Birds lifted from a bare thicket in a sudden scatter of wings. Frost glimmered along the fence line.
Henry inhaled deeply beside him. “Beautiful morning,” he said.
Wilhelm made a noncommittal sound.
Henry gave him a sidelong glance. “And here I thought you might actually enjoy being out of the house.”
Wilhelm kept his tone smooth. “I am enjoying myself.”
Henry snorted. “Your face says otherwise.”
Wilhelm didn’t bother denying it. They rode another stretch in silence. Wilhelm attempted to let the cold wind strip his mind clean, but discipline failed him for once because thoughts of Madeline kept rising in stubborn, unwelcome flickers at the edges of his attention.
He refused to look at them fully. He had no time for such things, no business entertaining any feeling that strayed beyond logic or duty.
Madeline was good for his daughter, and that alone made her entirely off-limits in every possible sense.
A governess was meant to be trusted, reliable, respectable, not someone he found himself remembering in moments of quiet.
She was younger than him by more years than he cared to count, and her presence in his household was meant to bring order, not complication.
His life had space only for Tessa, Kirkford, and the endless responsibilities that filled every waking hour. Indulgence had no place in it, least of all indulgence directed toward a woman who had stepped into his home solely to help raise his child.
He shoved the memory aside with force, angered by the ease with which it tried to return.
Henry adjusted his gloves, flicking a glance at him again. “You’re unusually quiet.”
“I am thinking,” Wilhelm replied.
“That is exactly what concerns me, old friend.”
Wilhelm almost smiled at that but didn’t.
Henry’s mare sidled closer, hooves kicking up a spray of cold earth. “Well then,” he said, “tell me what has you brooding.”
Wilhelm looked straight ahead, his jaw tightening as he kept his gaze fixed on the frosted path before them. “I am not brooding.”
Henry angled his body in the saddle to better see him, one brow lifting with theatrical skepticism. “You are absolutely brooding.”
Wilhelm exhaled slowly, the breath visible in the winter air as a thin plume drifting before his lips. His shoulders rose and fell in a resigned movement; there was no winning this.
They reached the ridge overlooking the valley, the slope falling away into snow-silvered fields. A cold wind swept up the incline, tugging at their coats.
Finally, with a low sigh, he said, “Tessa’s governess left.”
Henry straightened slightly. “Again?”
“Yes. Without warning.” A muscle ticked in Wilhelm’s jaw. “She lasted three weeks.”
Henry let out a low whistle. “A new record.”
Wilhelm shot him a look, but Henry merely shrugged as though stating an unfortunate fact. Wilhelm continued in a clipped tone. “I took Tessa to the festival to distract her. It didn’t go as planned.”
“Children’s festivals usually don’t,” Henry said lightly. “Sticky hands. Loud music. Crowds. A father’s nightmare.”
Wilhelm didn’t humor him with a smile. “Tessa wandered. I lost sight of her.” His knuckles tightened on the reins. “And when I found her, she was in the arms of a stranger.”
Henry’s brows shot up. “A stranger?”
“A woman.” Wilhelm hesitated for only a heartbeat, but Henry caught it instantly. “A tutor. She claims to be a tutor.”
“She claims to be?” Henry echoed, amused. “Did she seem like someone pretending?”
Wilhelm’s gaze hardened at the horizon. “She seemed… unusual.”
“And yet Tessa was in her arms.”
Wilhelm’s teeth ground together. “Tessa tripped on the ice. The woman caught her. And spoke to her as though she were simply a child, not a curiosity or a burden.” His jaw flexed. “Tessa clung to her.”
Henry’s eyes softened. “Ah. That would do it.”
Wilhelm ignored the comment. “I hired her. On the spot.”
Henry blinked. “You what?”
“I needed someone immediately, and Tessa… she responded well to her. It felt like an opportunity.”
Henry stared at him for a long moment, then burst into incredulous laughter. “Only you would hire a governess because your daughter hugged her at a festival.”
Wilhelm grunted, refusing to rise to the bait.
Henry reined his horse closer. “So. What else?”
Wilhelm shot him a dark look. “She has… opinions.”
Henry laughed outright. “Oh no. A woman with thoughts. How terrifying.”
Wilhelm glared. “Henry.”
“All right, all right,” Henry said, raising both hands in mock surrender. “Does your sulking have anything to do with the new governess?”
Wilhelm’s grip tightened around the reins. “I am not sulking.”
“So it is about her,” Henry said brightly. “Excellent. I have been waiting for some gossip.”
“We are not gossiping.”
Henry snorted. “Wilhelm, every time a woman under the age of fifty enters your household, something dramatic happens. A resignation. A small fire in the schoolroom. A governess fleeing in the night. Frankly, I am surprised the new one has survived the first day.”
“She has,” Wilhelm said, though the words came out waspish and harsher than intended.
Henry’s eyes widened with mock astonishment. “Remarkable. And she is the one causing this face?”
“I do not have a face.”
“You do,” Henry insisted. “You have four distinct faces. This one is the ‘I am troubled but would rather swallow nails than speak of it’ face.”
Wilhelm breathed out through his nose. “Your observations are unnecessary.”
“And yet accurate,” Henry said, undeterred. “So. Tell me. What is troubling you?”
Wilhelm clenched his jaw. “The new governess… Miss Watton… frustrates me.”
“Ah,” Henry breathed, as if savoring the word. “Now we are making progress. In what way?”
“Every way.”
Henry waited.
“I hired her for her instant connection to Tessa, and for her qualifications as a tutor, of course,” Wilhelm said, forcing his voice into something steadier. “Her methods are unconventional. She challenges everything. And—”
“Are her methods effective?”
Wilhelm pursed his lips. “Yes.”
Henry grinned. “Wilhelm, most men would call that a relief. You have had a string of governesses who obeyed so meticulously that they became stiff as boards.”
“At least they listened.”
“And yet none stayed,” Henry reminded gently.
Silence followed, because Wilhelm knew Henry was right, and yet he hated the truth of it.
His horse snorted and tossed its head. Wilhelm reached forward to grab the reins, letting the familiar motion distract him. Snow crunched beneath the hooves, the sound soothing and grounding, but none of it cleared the tension brewing inside his mind.
Henry nudged his mount closer. “Is the concern truly that she is difficult, or is it something else entirely?”
Wilhelm did not answer.
Henry’s smile sharpened. “Is she beautiful?”
Wilhelm almost choked. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“It has everything to do with anything,” Henry said cheerfully. “If you find the new governess attractive, suddenly your agitation makes sense.”
“I do not find her attractive,” Wilhelm answered too quickly.
Henry arched a brow. “You said that fast.”
“Because it’s true.”
The corners of Henry’s lips lifted slightly. “So you have not noticed whether she is pretty?”
Wilhelm’s jaw locked. “No.”
“Ah,” Henry sighed with satisfaction. “There it is.”
“Nothing is there,” Wilhelm said tightly. “Your assumptions are absurd.”