Chapter 13
William felt relief settle through him the moment Mrs. Shaw accepted his offer. It comforted him, but only briefly. No matter how hard he tried to avoid it, the main feeling he felt was shame.
He knew he had solved the problem, but he had also concealed its origin.
He had not told her that his aunt’s interference had helped create the very situation he was attempting to repair.
He had stood in the garden, offering her stability, while withholding the truth that he had played a part in her dismissal.
He left Lady Vane’s grounds with that knowledge sitting heavily on his mind.
The rain had begun again, light but steady, tapping against his coat as he crossed the yard.
Henry walked beside him, staying close as they made their way toward the waiting carriage.
William opened the door and helped the boy climb inside before taking his own seat.
The carriage jerked with a start, then quickly moved toward the road. William stared out the window at the passing countryside, but he did not pay attention to anything other than his own thoughts.
I should have told her. I should have said plainly what happened.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
But what would it change now? She has accepted the position. She needs it. And telling her would only add more distress to a situation that is already difficult enough.
He repeated the thought to himself several times. He knew it wasn’t exactly truthful, but it helped him feel better. He pushed away the other thought that nagged him.
I did not tell her because I could not bear the look she might give me. I could not bear the possibility that she would refuse the offer out of pride or hurt.
He knew that he had acted out of practicality, but he also knew that he acted out of fear. He did not want to lose the chance to protect her, and he did not want to watch her walk away with nothing.
The road to his estate stretched ahead, the carriage moving steadily as it came into view. Henry sat beside him, watching the long drive appear through the window. The familiar sight of the stone walls gave him a sense of order, but he still felt uneasy.
The carriage pulled up near the steps and came to a stop. He stepped out first, then reached back to help Henry down, making sure the boy’s footing was secure. He gave the driver a few instructions for the afternoon, then guided Henry toward the entrance before going inside.
They crossed the entrance hall together, the boy’s steps quick and eager, before William guided him toward the main staircase. Once Henry was safely on his way to the school room, William continued alone, walking toward the west wing.
The west wing had not been used in months.
It was quiet, the air faintly cool, and the windows reflected streaks of rain that had dried unevenly.
William walked through the corridor, noting the dust along the baseboards and the slight musty odor that came from disuse.
He called for Mrs. Harrow, the housekeeper, who arrived with her usual brisk efficiency.
“I will need the west wing prepared,” he said. “Two chambers. One for Mrs. Shaw, one for her daughter.”
Mrs. Harrow’s eyes widened before she caught herself. She straightened, folding her hands neatly at her waist.
“Of course, Your Grace. Shall I have the fires lit and the linens changed?”
“Yes. And ensure the rooms are comfortable. They will be staying for some time.”
She studied him for a moment but asked no questions. “I will see to it immediately.”
He walked through the rooms as Mrs. Harrow gave instructions to the maids.
The chambers were spacious, with tall windows overlooking the gardens.
The furniture was sturdy and well-kept, though the coverings needed fresh airing.
He checked the wardrobes, the writing desk, and the small adjoining room that would suit Clara well.
Clara’s small chamber felt peaceful, with its narrow bed and simple rug. William imagined her settling there, hoping she would feel safe and welcome from the first night on.
He wanted everything to be ready before Mrs. Shaw arrived. He wanted her to feel welcome and wanted, not as though she had been placed in a corner of the house out of obligation.
I should have told her. I should have said it plainly. But it would not help her now. It would only make her question the offer, question my intentions, question everything that she needs to accept without hesitation for this to work out.
He moved through the corridor again, listening to the bustle of preparations behind him. The estate felt different, as if the decision he had made was already changing everything. He paused near the stairwell, resting his hand lightly on the railing.
Henry found him there. The boy came running down the hall, his steps quick and unrestrained.
“Papa,” he said, catching his breath, “Mrs. Harrow said you are preparing rooms. Is someone coming?”
William nodded. “Yes, son. Mrs. Shaw and Clara will be staying with us. Mrs. Shaw will be your governess.”
Henry’s face brightened at that. “Clara will live here?”
“Yes.”
Henry could not contain his excitement.
“I will teach her Latin,” he said confidently. “She will learn quickly. She listens well.”
William could not help but smile. “I am sure she will.”
Henry continued, his enthusiasm unrestrained. “And she can help me with my reading. And we can show her the orchard. And the pond. And the library. She will like the library.”
William let him speak, watching the way the boy’s face reflected genuine happiness.
It had been some time since Henry had shown such eagerness about anything.
Henry’s excitement reminded William of earlier years, before the household had grown so still.
Seeing the boy animated again felt like a sign that he had made the right choice.
When Henry finally paused, William placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am glad you are pleased.”
Henry nodded, still smiling. “It will be better with them here. And Mrs. Shaw will be a good governess. She always knows what to say, and she is kind.”
“Yes. She is very kind,” William said, nodding.
Henry’s smile widened. “I am going to make a list of things I want to show Clara when she gets here.” He turned and hurried down the hall, already thinking through each item. William watched him go, the boy’s steps light and certain as he disappeared around the corner.
William stood alone again, the corridor quiet around him. He looked toward the west wing, where the maids were still preparing the rooms. His thoughts from earlier returned, but that time they were moving in a different direction.
I acted out of guilt and I hid the truth. I know that.
He rested his hand along the doorframe.
But I also gave her something she can rely on. She will have a place where no one questions her worth, and Clara will have security. She will not be judged by the careless talk of others.
He stayed there a moment longer, allowing himself to feel good about the new development.
Perhaps it is selfish, he thought. But if her presence brings warmth back into this house, if it helps Henry, and if it helps me, then I cannot regret it.
William turned toward the stairs, ready to oversee the final preparations.
When he had informed Lady Vane of the new arrangement, they had agreed that it should take place within a few days.
He had not told Lady Spencer about any of it.
He avoided the subject entirely, unwilling to invite her opinions or her interference.
It had been easier to keep the matter to himself.
William smiled at the thought that Mrs. Shaw and Clara would be there in two or three days.
The rest of the day passed in constant preparation. Maids moved through the west wing with fresh linens and kindling, and Mrs. Harrow oversaw each task. William checked the rooms once more before dinner, noting the progress without comment.
At the table, Henry could not stop talking. He spoke of Clara’s arrival with bright enthusiasm, listing every corner of the house he wanted to show her and every game he hoped she would like. His excitement carried through the meal, unbroken and sincere.
***
Once Henry was settled for the evening and the house had grown quiet again, William stepped out into the night and headed toward The Fox & Lantern. He wanted to tell James what had happened, and the thought of that conversation brought a sense of purpose to his movements.
By the time he reached the establishment, the lamps inside were already lit. Warm light spilled through the windows, casting faint shapes onto the damp ground. He dismounted, tied the reins to the post, and stepped inside.
The place was quieter than usual. A few men sat near the hearth, speaking in low tones, but the room lacked the bustle it had held the night before.
James stood behind the counter, wiping down a row of cups. He looked up the moment William entered.
“Evening. Want the usual?”
William gave a short nod. He walked to the counter and sat on the nearest stool. James reached for the bottle, poured the drink without waiting for further instruction, and set the cup in front of him.
William took a slow sip. “I hired Mrs. Shaw.”
James froze mid-movement. “You what?”
“She will be Henry’s governess.”
James stared at him, the cloth still in his hand. “You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“Start from the beginning,” James said, setting the cloth down and leaning against the counter.
William took another sip of his drink before he continued. “After I last spoke with you, I knew I had to do whatever I could to fix the situation. Henry needs a governess, and the solution was obvious.”
“So, you hired her?”
William nodded.
James studied him closely. “For Henry’s benefit?”
“I don’t know,” William answered, looking down at his drink.
James raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”
William kept his tone even. “I told myself it was for Henry. He needs stability and he responds well to her. But I also knew that if she left the area entirely, I would regret it.”
James let out a quiet, incredulous sound. “So, you admit it.”
“Admit what?”
James leaned forward. “That you are taken with her.”
William’s jaw tightened. “James.”
“It’s just an observation,” James said, smirking.
William took another sip, refusing to rise to the bait. “She is a respectable woman. She has been through enough.”
“And you care about that,” James said. “More than you will admit.”
William didn’t respond.
James leaned his elbows on the counter. “Look, I’m not mocking you. But you need to understand what you’ve done. Hiring her will invite more gossip. People will assume you brought her into your household for reasons that have nothing to do with Henry.”
“I know,” William said quietly.
“Do you?” James asked. “Because this is not the same as visiting Lady Vane’s estate. This is your home. Your staff. Your son. People watch everything you do. And they will watch everything she does.”
William looked toward the far wall, where the lantern light flickered against the wood. “I am aware.”
James’ tone shifted, losing its teasing edge.
“You must be careful now. More careful than before. There are unspoken rules about how a duke behaves around his son’s governess.
You cannot be seen lingering near her. You cannot be seen seeking her out.
You cannot give anyone reason to believe she has influence over you. ”
“I understand,” William said as his fingers tightened around his cup.
“Do you?” James repeated. “Because if you do not follow those rules, you will both be in more trouble than you are now. And she will bear the worst of it.”
William shook his head. “I won’t let that happen.”
James nodded. “Good. Then act like it.”
William sat in silence for a moment, listening to the faint crackle of the hearth and the low murmur of the men at the nearby table.
“I cannot bring myself to regret the decision,” he said eventually.
James gave a short, knowing nod. “I didn’t think you would.”
“The thought of her going away completely made me more upset than the rumors. I couldn’t bear it.”
James’ expression softened slightly. “You’ve employed governesses before.”
“Yes.”
“And none of them lingered in your thoughts.”
“No.”
James straightened. “Then be honest with yourself. You didn’t hire her only for Henry.”
William didn’t deny it. He couldn’t.
James continued, “But if you’re going to keep her in your household, you need to protect her. Not just from gossip, but from the consequences of being associated with you.”
William nodded once. “I will.”
James poured him another drink, though William hadn’t asked for one. “Then start by keeping your distance. Not coldly or rudely. Just… carefully.”
William took the cup. “I can do that.”
“Good,” James said. “Because she deserves stability. And she deserves to feel safe.”
William looked toward the door, thinking of the west wing, the rooms being prepared, and the quiet way Mrs. Shaw had accepted the offer. “She will have both.”
James studied him for a moment longer. “Just make sure you’re not giving her more trouble than help.”
William finished the drink slowly, letting the warmth settle through him.
When he finally stood to leave, James stopped him.
“I have one more thing to say, and then I will let it go. I believe this can be a good thing. But you just need to be honest. You have not been fully honest, and you know that. But from here on out be completely honest. With her. And with yourself.”
William gave a small nod. “I will.”
He stepped out into the cool night air, mounted his horse, and began the ride back home, fueled by his newfound sense of duty.
He had made his choice. And he did not regret it.