Chapter 15 #2
“I hear you have taken on a new governess.”
He kept his voice even. “Mrs. Shaw has accepted the position.”
Lady Spencer’s smile tightened. “How fortunate for her.”
William did not respond. He gestured toward the terrace, and she followed him outside.
The late morning light fell across the lawn, where Henry and Clara were seated on the grass with their books.
Mrs. Shaw knelt beside them, pointing out a passage in Henry’s reader while Clara listened with quiet interest.
Lady Spencer paused, her eyes fixed on the scene. “How diligent she appears.”
William watched his aunt closely. Her tone was polite, but her expression was calculating. She observed Mrs. Shaw with the same assessing scrutiny she had shown at Lady Vane’s estate, only in that moment it was sharpened by the knowledge that Mrs. Shaw lived under his roof.
“She keeps Henry to a steady routine,” William said. “His lessons have improved.”
Lady Spencer’s gaze did not shift. “I see.”
Henry looked up and waved. “Papa!”
Clara waved as well, her smile bright. Mrs. Shaw rose from the grass, brushing her skirt lightly before guiding the children toward the rose beds. Lady Spencer watched every movement with careful calculation.
“How quickly she has settled herself,” she said. “One might almost think she has been here for years.”
William felt the familiar irritation rise, though he kept his expression controlled. “She has done nothing improper.”
Lady Spencer folded her hands. “I never said she had.”
He turned toward her. “You implied it. Repeatedly.”
She lifted her chin. “I merely expressed concern. A woman in her position must be careful. You know how people talk.”
“I know how talk begins,” William said quietly.
Her eyes narrowed just slightly. “If you are suggesting I encouraged anything…”
“I am stating what I have learned,” he said. “Your remarks at Lady Vane’s estate were repeated. They reached the servants. They reached the village. And the consequences of those remarks reached Mrs. Shaw.”
Lady Spencer’s expression remained composed, but her voice cooled. “If my observations were repeated, that is hardly my fault. I cannot control how servants speak.”
“You can control what you say in front of them.”
She did not answer.
William looked back toward the gardens. Mrs. Shaw was helping Clara adjust her cloak while Henry pointed out a damaged rose support. The scene was quiet, orderly, and entirely proper. Yet Lady Spencer watched it as though searching for something.
“She is Henry’s governess,” William said. “Nothing more.”
Lady Spencer’s lips curved in a faint, skeptical smile. “If that is truly the case, then you must be cautious. A woman dismissed under questionable circumstances should not be placed in a position that invites further speculation.”
William felt her words strike with a force that angered him. “Her dismissal was not due to any fault of her own.”
Lady Spencer gave a soft, dismissive hum. “Perhaps. But perception matters more than truth. You know that.”
He did know it. He had known it from the moment Mrs. Shaw accepted the position.
Watching her then, steady and patient, guiding the children with quiet confidence, he felt the same certainty he had felt on the day he brought her to the estate.
She belonged in that role and she belonged in his house.
He would not allow his aunt’s interference to threaten that.
Lady Spencer turned toward him. “I only hope you understand the consequences of your choices.”
“I understand them,” William said. “And I will manage them.”
She studied him for a long moment before nodding briefly. “Very well.”
Lady Spencer remained at the estate longer than William wished.
She had insisted on tea in the drawing room, claiming she needed rest after her journey, though he suspected she simply wanted an opportunity to observe the household.
He kept his manner polite but distant, answering her questions with the minimum required courtesy.
He stood near the window while she spoke, watching the gardens beyond the glass.
Mrs. Shaw had dismissed the children for the evening and was crossing the corridor outside the drawing room.
Clara walked ahead of her, humming softly, while Henry carried a book under his arm.
Mrs. Shaw guided them toward the staircase, her expression calm after a long day of lessons.
Lady Spencer’s voice cut through the quiet.
“William,” she said, her tone light but unmistakably pointed, “I received word that Lady Arabella will be visiting the region soon.”
He turned slightly. “Lady Arabella?”
“Yes,” Lady Spencer continued, her voice carrying just enough to reach the corridor.
“The marquess’ daughter. She has recently come of age.
A very suitable young woman. Far more appropriate for a duchess than…
someone touched by scandal,” she said, her pause deliberate as she looked in the direction of Mrs. Shaw.
William instantly knew that the remark was not meant for him alone. He glanced toward the doorway.
Mrs. Shaw had paused at the foot of the stairs.
Her eyes lowered and her expression tightened for only a moment before she guided Clara and Henry upward as though she had heard nothing.
The restraint in her face struck him deeply.
She did not falter, did not turn, and did not react beyond that brief, quiet shift in her expression.
He watched her disappear up the staircase, the children beside her, her composure intact but unmistakably wounded.
When he turned back, Lady Spencer was watching him with a satisfied calm.
“I thought you should be aware,” she said. “A duke must consider his future. And the future of his household.”
William kept his voice steady. “Lady Arabella’s visit is of no relevance to me.”
Lady Spencer lifted her brows. “A marquess’ daughter is always relevant to a duke. Especially one who has yet to choose a wife.”
He did not answer. He did not trust himself to.
Lady Spencer continued, her tone softening in a way that only sharpened the cruelty beneath it. “I merely wish to remind you that appearances matter. A young widow with a child, particularly one dismissed from her previous post, cannot be allowed to complicate your reputation.”
William again felt his anger rise, controlled only by years of discipline. “Mrs. Shaw is Henry’s governess. Nothing more.”
Lady Spencer’s smile returned, thin and knowing. “Of course. And yet she lives under your roof. People will talk. Remember, they already have.”
He held her gaze. “As I said earlier, your remarks encouraged that talk.”
“I simply observed what others would inevitably notice.”
William stepped closer, his voice low. “You have caused her harm.”
Lady Spencer’s expression remained composed. “I have protected you.”
He looked toward the staircase again, replaying the moment Mrs. Shaw lowered her eyes. She had heard every word and had understood exactly what Lady Spencer intended her to hear. Yet she had walked away without a single complaint.
Lady Spencer folded her hands. “You must think of the future, William. A governess is temporary. A duchess is permanent.”
He refused to accept what his aunt was saying. “Mrs. Shaw’s position is secure.”
“For now,” Lady Spencer said. “But you must not allow sentiment to cloud your judgment.”
He did not respond. He could not. His anger was too controlled and too deeply rooted in the sight of Mrs. Shaw’s expression as she turned away.
Lady Spencer rose from her chair. “I will take my leave. I trust you will consider what I have said.”
William escorted her to the entrance hall with the same restrained courtesy he had shown throughout her visit. When her carriage finally rolled down the drive, he remained standing in the doorway, the evening light settling across the estate.
He thought of Mrs. Shaw’s lowered eyes. He thought of the silence she carried upstairs. He thought of the deliberate cruelty behind his aunt’s words.
And he knew that however upsetting his aunt’s words may have been, her underlying suspicion was not wrong.