“Ay, yes.”
“Is Mr. Smith about?”
“No, my lord. Mr. Smith has taken a job in Suffolk at the factory, for a wee bit.”
“He doesn’t farm here?”
Mrs. Smith startled, her fingers plucking at the apron. “There wasn’t any work to be had. No one to...” She trailed off, looking miserable and helpless at the same time.
Louise skipped out of the house, bored. Henrietta took pity on the poor woman. She touched her shoulder. “May I see your arm? How is it?”
Now the woman grew more red, visibly uncomfortable.
“My lord,” Henrietta murmured, understanding the situation at once. “Would you be so kind as to check on Louise?”
His brows lifted, but understanding filled his eyes. He left, and she gestured Mrs. Smith to the table. The woman lifted her sleeve and Henrietta had to stifle her gasp. A hot, viscous anger poured through her as the smell of the apothecary’s mistreatment rose from the rash. What had been crusty yesterday now oozed pus and odor.
She had seen worse. But she shouldn’t see it here, not on a prosperous estate. This was completely unnecessary. Swallowing the distaste and anger that kept rising in her throat, she wet her lips. “You will need to clean this with hot-water compresses three times a day. Stop using the cream he gave you. It’s completely ineffective.”
She fumbled in her reticule until she found the jar of ointment. “I have made you a liniment, and I will be back to check your arm tomorrow morning. Keep your rash covered with clean cloths, changing them after every hot compress. You must let me know immediately if the rash spreads.”
“How did this happen? Did the apothecary cause it?”
Mouth tight, Henrietta shook her head. “No, most likely there was broken skin from the rash, which could have been caused by a minor irritation. But infection got into the skin and the ointment he gave you did absolutely nothing. I’m not certain what’s in it.”
Mrs. Smith tilted her head. “Ye’re the governess. How is it ye know of these things?”
“I was trained in nursing and doctoring. The governess position is temporary.” Henrietta frowned. “Let’s clean this first.”
Sometime later, Henrietta left the cottage. Mrs. Smith’s wound was cleaned and covered. She’d shown her how to apply the ointment.
She felt alive. Useful.
“You’re glowing.” Dominic came up to her from where he’d been lounging against the carriage. His gaze skipped across her face.
“That apothecary of yours is inept.”
“And yet happiness is fairly leaping from your face.”
She lifted a shoulder, unable to keep from smirking. “My true calling is doctoring. Mrs. Smith will recover if she does as I say. Shall we be off to tour your estate? I’m sure your tenants would appreciate hearing from you.”
The crinkles at the corner of his eyes disappeared. He shuffled his feet in a surprisingly unsure movement, as though he wanted to run but could not. Perhaps that urge to run was inherited, she mused. Like uncle, like niece?
She pulled her bonnet more securely across her brow as the sun had not yet sunk below the horizon. Its orange-hued rays bounced brightness across the earth’s surface. “You do not wish to see your tenants?”
Dominic effected a sigh surely too deep and overdone for such a simple question.
He was saved from answering when Louise bounded over. “Retta, look what I have found? What is it?”
She bent forward, examining the shiny brown hide of a lepidoptera pupa. “It appears to be a caterpillar undergoing metamorphosis. We shall find a book to discover which species, as I am not well-versed in the study of insects. Keep it safe. We do not want to harm the pupa.”
“Pupa,” the girl said reverently. The oval-shaped case was cradled in her palm. “I shall be very careful.” She walked away slowly, cautiously, treating the developing moth as though it was a precious jewel.
“She is tenderhearted.” Henrietta blinked at the sting in her eyes. An ache had started pumping within, for well she remembered that age. The wonder, the sweet agony of newly discovered joys. The pain of loss. When her world had ended, her heart had kept pumping. The sun had continued its unsung rhythm.
“I doubt the servants share your sentiment.” St. Raven’s eyes glinted in the setting sun, looking somehow more dangerous, an emerald mirror to the grassy floor around them.
“She adores you,” Henrietta said quietly. She watched as Louise climbed gingerly into the carriage, her fingers cradling the pupa. “If you leave, she may revert to her old antics.”
“I hired you because you relate to Louise. You understand her. I’m no longer needed.”
“That is what you would like to think, because it is easier to dismiss her than to love her.”
His face turned to stone, his eyes reflecting jewel-toned hardness. “You speak too familiarly, Miss Gordon.”
“Do you expect less from me?” She met his jagged gaze with a firm and steady look. “You have avoided your tenants and their needs. These people are depending on you for their livelihood. The cottages are in need of repair. The fields lay barren. Is this what your brother would have wanted? Is this why he left you in charge?”
“Challenging words for a mere governess.” A tic tugged at his jaw. She only saw it because somewhere in her lecture she had lost contact with his eyes, knowing she crossed a line yet unable to stop herself. It was one thing to be stern with a patient. Quite another to criticize your employer. But her principles would allow nothing less.
She forced herself to look at him again, ignoring the clench of her stomach, the tightness of her throat. “These people deserve a landowner who cares for them. At least hire a steward to handle the paperwork puddled across your desk. Someone to care for the people since you cannot bring yourself to do so.”
He shoved a hand ruthlessly through his hair, mussing it and grimacing at the pain. Or perhaps her words. She refused to play with the edges of her reticule, though her nerves screamed and her fingers itched to move, to wiggle, to crawl away. Someone must tell him these things. Someone must make him see how the estate was falling apart without his leadership.
She inhaled a shaky, uncertain breath. “I can’t leave here without being honest, my lord. I hope you understand.”
He groaned then, a surprising sound that struck her as both mournful and wounded. Aggrieved. A sober reaction for someone determined to play his way through life. “Though you are impertinent, your opinion has merit. I will meet with my solicitors and determine what is to be done.”
“It would be good for the tenants to meet you. To feel that their futures are secure. Mrs. Smith’s husband is working at a factory. I’m not well versed on English economics—”
“Crops are failing throughout England. Add in the bad harvests and farmers are struggling,” he said crisply. “I will do what I can, but the world is changing and we must change with it. Perhaps you’re correct about the tenants, though. After my brother died, I didn’t visit the estate for several months. And when I did, it was short. Mostly to see Louise.”
“Then you are past due.”
“I’m sick, as you know. It seems...” His fingers jogged again through his hair as though searching for words. “Perhaps a waste of time to invest myself when there is no guarantee I will be here tomorrow.”
“Are you referring to your illness? I do not believe it to be a terminal disease, though I’ve yet to perform the research.” He looked so stricken, and she felt helpless to wipe that despair from his face.
“Yes, this cursed disease that has plagued me. Who would have guessed a bump on the head had the power to forever alter the course of my life.”
“When did you first exhibit symptoms?”
“The day after my brother and his wife died. I was riding with them.”
“Oh, I did not realize.
” She swallowed, understanding the pain of losing those you held dear in one fell swoop.
“I am hoping to find a cure.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
She dipped her head. “Fair words. However, you cannot neglect your duties simply because you don’t know what the future brings. I will watch you closely, my lord, and guard your secret. Never forget, He holds us in the palms of His hands.”
“Who?”
“God. Be anxious for nothing, but in everything let your cares fall upon Him, for He careth for you.”
Dominic’s brow rose in a mocking manner that Henrietta found rather annoying. She put a hand on her hip. “I’m simply giving you good advice. The future is unknown. If we visit the tenants today, then tomorrow, if you have not suddenly died, you can go about hiring a steward.”
“Sarcasm. Very ungoverness-like.” He regarded her with narrowed eyes. “You were quoting the Bible.”
“Yes,” she answered defensively. “I enjoy reading it.”
“As I have never turned a page of it in my life, I will trust you when you say reading it is enjoyable. Louise is waiting and the day is waning. After consideration, I have determined that it is far better to face the tenants than your wrath.”
Her wrath.
Shooting him a glare and refusing to respond to the challenging spark she saw in his eyes, she marched to the carriage. She had accomplished many things today. When she left this place, it would be knowing that she’d done her part and been useful.
If she could not doctor bodies, the next best thing to fix was a broken family.
Chapter Ten
Henrietta certainly had a way with words.
Her chastisements had plagued him, nudging him into action.
Dominic peered out the window of his office, staring at the governess and Louise sitting in the tiny squared-off garden below him. A servant brought them a tray, and it appeared that Henrietta was instructing his niece on the art of pouring tea. Louise seemed interested, her head bent in concentration, her body very still as though she absorbed each detail with her entire self.
Should he go down there and tell her he’d found a steward? Quite easily, in fact. The butler knew of one at a nearby town, and the housekeeper had seemed thrilled. How long had they been hoping for this? What kind of earl was he to have shirked duties for so long, and would the estate prosper now that he’d taken a step forward? Now that he’d committed himself...
Frowning, he turned from the window and left the room. Only time, and perhaps this new steward, would be able to give him an idea of which changes, if any, would bring prosperity again.
He crossed the hall and took a turn in the solarium. Greenery and flowers overflowed the small space. Someone had been caring for the plants in this room. He made a mental note to find out who and thank him or her.
At the edge of the solarium, he opened the door and took the cobbled path, which led directly to where Henrietta sat with her pupil. No time like the present to help himself to some of their dainty snacks and to let the fearsome governess know that she could save her lectures for his niece.
A lick of anticipation lapped up his spine. He was looking forward to tangling wills with her. Very few women in society, especially the debutantes, engaged in verbal sparring. He had a notion they were told to act vapid and smile insipidly until they’d caught a husband.
Not bothering to hide the grin he knew edged his face, he sauntered into the area where the ladies sat. Louise had just replaced the teapot on a silver gilded tray that reflected sunlight rather uncomfortably into his eyes, almost ruining his saunter. He recovered, angling toward Henrietta, who watched him knowingly.
He bowed to Louise. “Miss Stanford.”
She responded with a deep and surprisingly smooth curtsy. “Lord St. Raven. Won’t you join us for tea?”
“It would be my pleasure.” He took the seat next to Henrietta, noting the slight wiggle she made to move away from him. Ah. The thrill of the chase. Even if she was only here temporarily, she provided an escape from boredom. “Anna, another cup if you will?”
The maid curtsied and hurried away.
“Are you taking a break from the schoolroom?” he asked.
“It is ever so tedious, Dom.” Louise sent Henrietta a petulant look, but the recipient merely took a sip from her teacup. “She has been making me memorize sums and multiples. I told her that I shall not be using them. Why would I have need of that? She says if I don’t learn them, my brain will be reduced to mush.”
“Mush?” He turned, catching the governess’s lips twitching behind her cup. “Is that the medical term for the malady?”
With a methodical care, Henrietta set the cup on the tray. “The brain is a remarkable organ, and each section must be exercised daily to prevent atrophy.”
“Well, that certainly explains what has happened to mine.”
Henrietta coughed, her fingers covering her lips as though holding in an unfortunate and inappropriate laugh.
A fierce desire to make her laugh again rushed through him, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. Louise looked between the both of them, her face as confused and blank as his supposedly mushy brain. The maid set the cup on the table and retreated.
“My lord, a spot of tea?” Louise quirked her brow at him, lifting the teapot. She poured flawlessly, a lady in every way.
“Well done,” he said, taking his cup, no sugar. “Henrietta taught you how to do this?”
“My parents died when I was fifteen. I had a governess for several years before that, so yes, I am versed in the art of pouring tea,” she said.
“Did she make you do math, too?” Louise’s nose crinkled like an accordion.
Henrietta smiled quite charmingly. “Yes, any woman who may one day run a household should have solid accounting skills. There are many duties a lady must know to be effective in her home.”
“Sounds boring,” Dominic drawled, just to see Henrietta’s eyes flash at him. “Much like my meeting with the steward today.”
The flash subsided the tiniest bit. “So you’ve decided to hire one?”
“Yes, and another maid or two. The food is cold because apparently there are not enough servants. When my brother—” He caught himself, glanced at Louise, who was picking at a hole in her dress, and continued. “When everything changed, apparently several servants left for a neighboring estate and towns.”
“Very good.” Henrietta sounded too prim and self-satisfied. It made him want to get the smirk off her face by any means necessary. “Does this mean you’ll be leaving now?”
Louise’s head popped up, and Dominic held in his groan. He hadn’t said anything to Louise, but Henrietta did not know that. As if realizing her mistake, her face flushed in apology.
“But you just got here? Why must you always go to that dreadful place?”
He pulled at his cravat. “I have a home there.”
“This is your house, too.” Her voice went high, desperate. She stomped her slipper-clad foot, a scuffing noise that did little to ease the strain in Dominic. “I’m your home. Tell him, Henrietta.”
Henrietta stood and brushed the wrinkles from her skirt. Dominic immediately followed suit. “Why don’t we talk about it later, when you’ve calmed down.”
“Calmed down?” Louise crossed her arms, twisting her lips into a mulish scowl. He reached for her, but she pivoted out of reach. “You can’t go, Dom. Please.” And then her lip quivered, and it felt as though that quiver was an arrow to his heart. Pain lanced his chest.
“I have to. I have to go.”
Louise shook her head, hard, shaking his words from her ears. Then she ran, disappearing down the path. He groaned.
Henrietta expelled an exasperated sigh. “We really must teach her better coping skills.”
* * *
&
nbsp; Louise returned after dinner had been taken away. Henrietta had been waiting, her heart beating a nervous pitter-patter for every hour the girl didn’t show up. St. Raven had gone to his study to go over the books with his new steward, who had shown up shortly after Louise threw her fit.
He had been visibly upset but after an hour of searching and not finding the girl, they’d decided to see if she returned home for dinner. A few servants had been posted at various spots on the estate, in hopes of spotting her.
Henrietta paced the parlor, awaiting word of her charge’s arrival. She’d brought a book, an anatomical study of the human body, but her eyes kept stuttering on the hippocampus drawing.
Was Louise hurt somewhere? Broken? She hadn’t been able to speak with Lord St. Raven about consequences for his niece’s behavior, but as she turned about the room, she formulated a plan. She had already informed the staff to send Louise directly to the parlor. No food, no stops.
A dusky sunset splayed through the curtains, bathing the room in an overripe peach glow. The faint sound of servants moving through the house reached her ears. Even St. Raven’s voice, low and muted, could be heard as a threadbare echo through the walls. Still, she strained to hear Louise’s excited footfalls, her chirping voice.
She hadn’t fooled herself into thinking Louise had changed, but she had hoped the girl was happier. She should have guessed Dominic hadn’t shared his plans with anyone. Why had she opened her mouth?
Sighing, she went and sat on the fancy settee in the corner. Brocaded and stiff, the cushion made sitting more uncomfortable than standing. She stood up again. Better to address the behavior now. To teach that running away only caused more problems and that when Louise was upset, she must stand and face her fears.
Face the opposition.
Setting her jaw, she waited. Then there were footsteps down the hall. Strong and firm, but light. Henrietta rushed to the door and found Cook, her fingers hooked around the collar of Louise’s clothes.
“Tried to sneak some tarts from the kitchen,” said Cook.
Henrietta had not actually spoken to the cook in her time here, and now she understood why. The woman exuded disdain. With a contemptuous sniff, the servant released Louise and pounded away.
The Unconventional Governess Page 9
