Chapter Six
Somehow a week had already passed in her new post as governess and Hattie was proud of the joyful daily routine they had settled into and the rapport she and Lady Millie had built with one another.
Each morning, they met in the parlour and walked about the lake before breaking their fast with scones and jam with His Grace.
Then they returned to the lake for a daily adventure and exploration, coupled with lessons in science and local geography, which Hattie had been able to learn all about thanks to the hearty library His Grace had given her access to during her stay.
Trudy would swoon at the stack of books Hattie had in her chambers. The thought of it made her smile.
After a midday meal, they napped and then rose for lessons in reading, literature and mathematics. It was hard to believe so many days had passed and that Hattie might only have one week left with her new charge. She had grown so fond of her that Hattie dreaded the idea of leaving.
The Duke of Wimberley seemed pleased with her work and dedication to his daughter when she provided him updates each eve, so Hattie had high hopes she might be invited to stay on longer, but not too high hopes, as she couldn’t bear the disappointment if he didn’t extend her contract of employment.
Nor did she wish to think about having to leave little Millie or this place.
In just a short time, the Manor and its occupants had grown on her, even His Grace, who often kept to himself during the day.
Despite his best efforts to remain serious and distant, she had seen glimpses of his kindness and warmth in the exchanges with his daughter and servants when he forgot himself and let his mask slip out of place.
She and Millie had already enjoyed their morning meal and her young charge had been eager to return to the pond to search out the same tiny duckling they had rescued from danger their first outing together.
Hattie watched as Millie played at the edge of the pond, splashing her hand in the sparkling water.
Sunlight streamed through the trees out in the distance and the little girl met Hattie’s gaze and smiled at her.
While Hattie could still take three strides and reach Millie with ease, Hattie was trying to let more physical distance between them build as time went on so she could gain confidence and assurance.
It had taken almost three days for her to dare let go of Hattie’s hand and walk more than a full stride away from her.
The poor girl was still scared of the world after losing her mother and grandfather in such a short period of time and Hattie understood.
Losing her mother and becoming an orphan had shaken her to her core when she was only a bit older than Millie.
It would take time for the little girl to heal and realise the world still had wonderful adventures to offer and happiness could be trusted once more.
Hattie plucked colourful wildflowers as she watched Millie pick up the rocks along the bank and examine them.
Each one seemed to fascinate her as did much of the outdoors.
They would do a review of the flowers they had been studying today and make a beautiful thank-you bouquet for the cook, Mrs Updike, who had agreed to help teach them both about the intricacies of cooking a tart after they came in and washed up from their morning excursion outside.
While their ‘reviews’ each morning consisted of nods, pointing and head shakes rather than words from Millie, she was learning. It was evident in the girl’s bright eyes and smiles. Hattie continued to pray each day that something unexpected would unlock Millie’s silence, but nothing had so far.
A flutter of birds flew from a cluster of large bushes on the other side of the lake.
Hattie turned and watched to see what had startled them.
It wouldn’t be the first time a deer or fox had trotted out this way looking for their own morning meal.
A small hare hopped out of the bush and Hattie smiled.
Evidently today it was a bunny looking for some fresh clover.
She turned back to look for a blue spray to add to the bunch in her hand.
Spying the perfect cornflower-blue cluster, she bent over to pluck it when Millie let out a shriek.
Hattie lurched up, dropping the flowers to the ground, and saw two men approaching them from the very bushes the birds had scattered from. Millie screamed again as the men continued towards her. Hattie’s pulse raced. What was happening?
‘Come to me, Millie!’ Hattie shouted, rushing to Millie.
She clutched the little girl’s hand and then moved in front of her to shield her from whoever these odd men were who had emerged from what appeared to be out of nowhere.
They moved towards them with purpose and looked strange…
while they had the clothes of a farmer, they had fine shoes and the clean-shaven faces of gentlemen.
Hattie didn’t know what to make of them, so she started moving backwards slowly.
When the men picked up speed and called to her, she turned to Millie.
‘Run as fast as you can to the Manor. Don’t look back.
Just run,’ she said firmly, clutching her arms.
Millie paused, her eyes wide with fright. Hattie tried to reassure her with a timid smile. ‘Run inside and point out here to get help. I will distract them. Now go!’
Millie nodded and then darted off. The men exchanged words and one of them peeled off and attempted to go after Millie.
Hattie’s heart dropped. Where these men kidnappers?
What would they want with a young girl? Perhaps they hoped to collect a ransom from a new duke?
Anger replaced her fear and Hattie ran towards the man chasing Millie rather than away.
She hoped to intercede and block his progress.
She had to give the young girl enough time to reach safety and get help.
‘Miss, I only wish to speak with her,’ he began as Hattie blocked him.
‘Who are you? This is private property. Go! Leave her be!’ Hattie countered, matching his movements in hopes of keeping him away from Millie. He frowned at her.
‘Not until I get what I want. Now move!’ he commanded.
‘No,’ she replied, squaring her shoulders. The other man had almost reached them now.
‘Bloody hell. Go get her, Jay. I’ll take care of this one,’ he replied.
He lunged for her, but Hattie moved quickly, evading his grasp and causing him to stumble.
He cursed and the other man darted off. Hattie lifted her skirts and ran after him, making good progress.
She pulled on his jacket and he whipped back an arm, which connected with her shoulder, making it sting.
Not sure what else she could do to slow him down, she launched her body at him and ended up on his back.
They both crashed to the ground, landing in a rather large mud puddle caused by the rain from the night before.
The man cursed at her and shoved her away just as Hattie heard men running towards them.
One of the footmen tackled the other man to the ground, while the other, now splattered with mud, was easily seized.
Hattie sighed in relief, her heart still thundering in her chest as she leaned back on her arms and gathered her breath.
The Duke of Wimberley rushed to her, his gaze roving over her. ‘Miss Potts? Are you hurt?’
‘No,’ she panted, out of breath from her efforts. ‘Millie?’ she spluttered, her full question implied.
‘She is fine,’ he answered. ‘You gave us a fright. It was quite a scene from inside.’ He offered his hand to help her to stand.
She paused before accepting. Covered in mud, she must look a sight.
What must he think of me? It was not exactly what a proper governess would do, but she’d acted on instinct.
Embarrassment warmed her cheeks and she reluctantly reached up her muddy hand and accepted his clean one.
His grip was strong, warm and sent a shiver along her entire body.
Once she was back to standing, his gaze assessed her again before he released her hand. His gaze dropped away before he spoke again. ‘Please go inside while this is dealt with, Miss Potts. I will speak with you shortly.’
There was a tightness in his voice that set her on edge. Blast. She could only hope her behaviour hadn’t ruined her chances to stay on. She batted the thought away. She was being ridiculous. None of that mattered. The most important thing was Millie was safe.
Once Miss Potts and his daughter were inside, the Duke of Wimberley faced the intruders, who had finally ceased their struggles against the footmen who held them in check and the other men from the household who had joined them.
While William wasn’t prone to rage or even a quick temper, at this moment he wanted to roar.
Roar so loudly that the whole valley would hear it.
How dare these men attempt to harm his daughter and Miss Potts?
How dare they trespass upon his property and threaten those under his care?
While he didn’t know who they were, he knew exactly what kind of men they were and what they were doing here.
He’d seen his fair share of them back in the city.
London was crawling with them: reporters, gossip scribblers, private detectives.
They were all the same to him. They were paid for information and ferreted around to uncover it by whatever means they could, legally or otherwise.
They dug through refuse, intercepted correspondence, paid servicemen for updates and peered in windows when they could.