Chapter 6 #3
She sighed. “At twenty-four, Louisa is two years older than I.”
So Miss Shelby was young—eight years less than himself. He was feeling older by the minute.
“She went off to be a companion to an elderly woman. Victoria is four years older than I, and I just received word several weeks ago that she is to be married to Viscount Thurlow.”
“I don’t know the man,” he said thoughtfully, “but I’ve heard him speak in the House of Commons. He’s quite the politician.”
Suddenly she met his gaze, and in her own he saw worry.
“Are you speaking with honesty, or with sarcasm?” she asked.
“Honesty. Why?”
“She only just met him.” Her voice lowered and slowed, as if it were pulled out of her. “I worry that she is only doing this to save our mother from poverty.”
“And if she is, then she’s a good daughter. Are you not attempting to do the same thing?”
Miss Shelby closed her eyes for a moment. “Perhaps you’re right. I guess I shall discover his character when I attend their wedding.”
It was his turn to frown. “I did not know of your request for a holiday.”
“I discussed it with Mrs. Theobald. I thought such a thing beneath your notice.”
“My son is not beneath my notice. When is the wedding and how long will you be gone?”
“I leave in four days, and I’ll be gone for four. I assure you, Stephen might be glad for the holiday from me.”
She was attempting to lighten his mood, but he could see her worry. A man in his position could selfishly refuse her permission to go.
And he was tempted.
What if she didn’t return? Her sister would be a wealthy woman. Surely Viscount Thurlow would provide for his new sisters by marriage. Miss Shelby could once again have all of London at her feet.
“I’m sure Nurse Weston can keep Stephen occupied while you’re gone,” Richard finally said.
She didn’t bother to hide her relief. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
“But until then, you’re at my beck and call.”
She took a step away, suspicious yet again.
“Stephen and I have been invited to an Assembly in Ramsgate.”
She looked at the boy dubiously, as he found a new patch of mud to play in. “Lord Ramsgate, we are with your father. Do behave.”
The boy sat back on his heels guiltily, but continued to look at the mud with longing.
“Yes, Stephen will be attending,” Richard continued. “There will be a separate party for the children, and I need you to watch over him. If you have nothing appropriate to wear, I’m sure Mrs. Theobald—”
“I can find something, Your Grace. I will not embarrass you.”
She folded her lips together primly and he knew she was offended.
“I would not be embarrassed if you attended dressed as you are.”
She gave him a disbelieving stare, then said, “But of course. I’m the governess.”
“You misunderstand me quite deliberately once again, Miss Shelby. I simply meant that your handsome looks make any gown passable.”
He wasn’t giving her too much of a compliment, not really. But the faintest blush rose up her neck and overtook her cheeks.
That was the response he wanted.
“Now that that’s settled,” he said, “let us go visit the huntsman.”
Stephen jumped to his feet. “The huntsman? Will you hunt a fox today, Father? I could go with you. My riding is no longer so dreadful.”
“And who claims you’re a dreadful rider?” Richard asked.
“Why, you, Father.”
If Stephen had kicked him, it couldn’t have hurt more. What kind of a fool was Cecil? Miss Shelby pointedly looked off to a distant corner of the garden, as if leaving Richard to sink or swim alone.
“Then I did not make my meaning clear, Stephen,” he said, trying not to sound too gentle. “I meant you were having a dreadful time that particular day, and we all have those.”
“Oh,” Stephen said brightly.
“But we’re not riding today. Victoria and Albert have become quite willful of late, and some training is in order. Would you like to work with the huntsman to train them?”
Stephen’s answer was plain. He called the dogs by name and began to run toward the kennel, situated back behind the stables.
“You’ll still accompany us, Miss Shelby?” Richard asked.
“If you don’t mind, Your Grace, I have changed my mind. I have letters I should write.”
“To your sisters?” he said, wondering what he’d done to drive her away.
“And my mother.”
“Then go ahead.”
She left him standing in the garden, and he watched the sway of her hips, and the disciplined way she held her shoulders before she disappeared past the fountain.
Did she carry herself differently when she was free from the worry of finances?
And however did such a lovely woman not have dozens of men clamoring to marry her, even without a dowry?
He was tempted to have someone investigate further, but he chastised himself.
He was not here to pursue a governess; he was here to see to his nephew’s safety.
His priorities back in place, he followed Stephen toward the kennel.
Yet his mind betrayed him by imagining Miss Shelby at the Assembly. Even though she would be taking care of Stephen, there would be men there who would want to dance with her.
But he couldn’t.