William waited, wanting to be certain David and the others were out of range. He turned to Miss Foster. “I feel I ought to apologize for my behavior last night.”
She looked away, but he could see she knew exactly what he was referring to.
“When I found you in the hall with my brother, I should have come to your defense instead of questioning you. I know David. And I’m quite certain I misjudged you. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“Of course, sir.” But she still carried a trace of hurt in her eyes.
He straightened, determined to explain his reaction and make things right. “You see, my late wife, Amelia, carried on a secret affair for over a year before her death.”
Her face paled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“Neither did I, and that’s the worst of it. Not only was she unfaithful, she was also deceptive, and I’m afraid her actions have tainted my view of people.”
“That must have been painful for you.”
His throat tightened, and he looked away for a moment. “Yes, painful and humiliating. Half of London knew of her affair, and the other half heard about it after her death … everyone, that is, except me. I didn’t learn of it until two months later, when I found letters she had hidden in her room.”
Sympathy filled Miss Foster’s gaze. “Thank you for telling me. It helps me understand.”
“What? That my wife had no trouble leaving me behind for another man?”
“No sir,” she said softly. “It helps me see why it’s difficult for you to trust and believe that someone could love you and be devoted to you.”
He stilled, and a tremor traveled through him. Was she speaking in general terms or about herself?
She looked him in the eyes. “I hope one day you’ll find someone who is worthy of your love, and with her help, you’ll rebuild your broken trust and all that has been lost will be restored to you.”
His heartbeat sped up as he searched her upturned face. Surely she was not saying she wanted to be the one to help him rebuild his life, was she?
He stepped closer and reached for her hand. It was soft and small and fit perfectly in his, such a sweet and caring hand that spread comfort and love to whomever she touched.
Her lips parted as she looked up at him, a touch of wonder in her eyes.
Voices and a commotion rose from the great hall below, and they stepped back. Her hand slipped from his, and regret swept through him like a powerful wave.
Mrs. Emmitt slipped behind the pillar at the end of the gallery and cocked her head to listen. Sir William and Miss Foster stood together at the top of the stairs, engaged in what appeared to be a very cozy conversation.
“You see, my late wife, Amelia, carried on a secret affair for over a year before her death.”
Mrs. Emmitt raised her hand to her mouth and stifled a gasp. His wife had been unfaithful? She could barely hear Miss Foster’s soft reply, but her tone was obviously sympathetic—and maybe something more.
A burning sensation rose in Mrs. Emmitt’s throat. Why would Sir William tell Miss Foster such intimate details about his life? She was just the governess. She should not be the one to console Sir William.
She turned, intending to slip away down the hall, but then she heard Miss Foster’s reply: “I hope one day you’ll find someone who is worthy of your love, and with her help, you’ll rebuild your broken trust and all that has been lost will be restored to you.”
Why, that little hussy! So that was what she was after—not a footman or a groom, but the master himself. How dare she even consider such a thing! Did she think she could just cast a line, hook one of the most prestigious men in the county, and reel him in like a fisherman caught a trout?
She had no rank, no place in society, and definitely no money.
Mrs. Emmitt shook her head. It couldn’t be borne. She would never take orders from the likes of her!
Voices one floor below in the great hall caught her attention as Mr. Lawrence announced the arrival of Lady Gatewood and Miss Drexel.
Ah, now there was a real lady. Miss Drexel had connections and style, and it was rumored in the servants’ hall that she was an heiress who possessed a fortune—enough money to secure the future of Highland and save them all.
She might be an American, but she would still make a fine mistress for Highland. No doubt Miss Drexel would want to run an English household properly, and she would look to Mrs. Emmitt to be her teacher and guide. And that was a role she was more than ready to resume.
If only Sir William would take his eyes off Miss Foster and focus his attention on Miss Drexel, then the future would be secure, and everyone would be happy.
Everyone except Miss Foster, but that could not be helped. Highland must be preserved. And Mrs. Emmitt would make sure no one stood in the way.
“Oh, William, we heard about the fire!” Alice Drexel swept across the great hall and met him at the bottom of the stairs. She reached for his arm. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, we’re fine.” But he glanced at Miss Foster and noted her pale face and the gray smudges beneath her eyes. She looked exhausted. He must be sure she took time to rest.
Alice’s hand tightened on his arm. “Thank goodness. I was so worried. We were all very worried, weren’t we, Louisa?”
“Of course. Are the girls all right?” Lady Gatewood looked past him.
“Yes, we’re fine, Aunt Louisa.” Katherine crossed the great hall from the dining room, with Penelope close behind. “How kind of you both to come.” Katherine kissed her aunt’s cheek and then Alice’s. Penelope did the same.
Alice’s gaze darted from Penelope to Katherine. “My goodness, you’re all still in your dressing gowns.”
“I know, isn’t it dreadful?” But Penelope’s eyes sparkled as she spoke. “We had to climb out Katherine’s window, and a gardener had to help us down a ladder to escape the fire.”
“How frightening!” Alice sent William another anxious look. “Did you escape out your window as well?”
“No. The fire was confined to the back half of the east wing. We were able to put it out before it spread further.”
“We’re sorry to greet you dressed like this, but our clothes were all destroyed,” Katherine said.
“Except for a few things that were in the laundry,” Penelope added with a smile.
Lady Gatewood took off her coat and handed it to the footman. “Thank heaven your new wardrobe for the season is still at the dressmakers. That would’ve been a terrible loss.”
William stifled a groan. Highland had nearly burned down, and Lady Gatewood was concerned about the girls’ dresses?
“Have you had breakfast?” Katherine asked.
“No, we came over as soon as we heard the news.”
“Why don’t you join us?” Penelope smiled again. “Then we can tell you all about the fire.”
Alice turned to Lady Gatewood.
“Go ahead, dear. I’ll be there in a moment.”
Alice slipped her arm through Katherine’s as they walked toward the dining room. “It’s so kind of you to offer us breakfast after all you’ve been through.”
“It was rather exciting, really.” Penelope took Alice’s other arm, then looked back. “Miss Foster, you’re welcome to join us.”
Miss Foster hesitated and glanced at William. He nodded. She sent him a tired smile, then followed the girls into the dining room.
His gaze lingered on her as she walked away. It was a good thing their conversation in the gallery had been interrupted. Emotions were running high this morning. No doubt that was what prompted him to share the sordid story about his wife, and it was why she had responded with such sympathy. He must not assign any more meaning to it on his part—or hers.
He turned to Lady Gatewood and motioned toward the dining room. “Shall we join them?”
“In a moment.” She looked toward the stairs. “How extensive is the damage?”
“Quite extensive, I’m afraid. Six bedrooms a
nd the hallway were all gutted. There’s also damage to the maids’ rooms on the floor above, and some water damage on the main floor in the music room.”
“Oh my.” Lady Gatewood pursed her lips. “What will you do?”
He did not want to discuss his plans with the butler nearby. “We’ll rebuild, of course.”
“But how can you afford to do that?”
He stepped toward her and lowered his voice. “I don’t believe you need to be concerned.”
“But I am very concerned.”
Why couldn’t the infernal woman lower her voice?
“Highland has always been my nieces’ home, and I do not want them cast out into the countryside with nowhere to live.”
“That’s ridiculous! No one is going to be cast out.”
“Well, how can you afford the repairs when you can’t pay the death duties?” She lifted her hand toward the upper floors. “Do you have some new plan to save Highland that I’m not aware of?”
“I have two months before I must pay the duties, and I’m looking into selling our family home in London.”
“You believe you can accomplish that before March?” Her arched eyebrows communicated her doubts.
“I don’t seem to have any other alternative.”
Lady Gatewood’s expression mellowed. “Ah, but there is another solution, and you may find it quite agreeable.”
“And what is that?”
She glanced toward the dining room, then looked back and smiled. “Alice has grown quite fond of you, and if you were to woo her and propose marriage, I’m sure her father would give you a very generous wedding gift that would more than cover those expenses.”
He scoffed. “That’s out of the question. I’ve no intention of proposing marriage to someone I barely know.”
“Then get to know her. She is a lovely young woman, and I’m sure she would be very pleased to deepen the friendship.”
“Please, don’t encourage her.”
“Why not? I think you and Alice would be a perfect match. And with her family’s fortune behind you, your financial problems would be solved. Highland would be on firm footing for years to come.”
He shook his head. “That’s not the answer.”
“Think of your children, William. They deserve to have a mother.”
“They are well cared for.”
“But don’t you want Millicent to have a place in society and marry well when the time comes? And what about Andrew? Shouldn’t he be master of this estate some day?”
“Yes, yes, of course! But I’m not ready to marry again.”
“Even to save Highland?”
He shot a glance at Lawrence. The butler stared straight ahead at the far end of the hall, no doubt hearing every word. “Please, let’s say no more about this now. Come and have breakfast.”
“All right. But Alice leaves for Bristol on the eighteenth. She’ll only be there for a few weeks, then she is off to London to prepare for the season. And you can be sure, with her winsome personality and handsome fortune, she’ll receive a proposal in no time.”
“No doubt.” Sarcasm laced his voice, but Lady Gatewood didn’t seem to notice.
“My advice is to strengthen the bond between you and come to an understanding before Alice leaves the county. Otherwise, someone else will snatch her up, and it will be too late.”
William stifled a growl and strode off toward the dining room.
Mrs. Emmitt poured herself a cup of tea and sat down to rest a moment in her parlor. What a wild night it had been, escaping the fire and then helping with the rescue efforts. Heavens, it had all been so frightening. For a time she thought the whole house would be consumed by the flames. But thanks to the efforts of the men and the good hand of providence, the fire had been put out.
Of course now she would have to oversee the cleanup and set up new rooms for everyone who had been burned out of the east wing, as well as handle all her regular duties. She sighed and shook her head. How in the world would she ever get it all done?
A knock sounded at her door. “Come in.” She set aside her teacup.
Mr. Lawrence stepped through the doorway, his expression sober. “Do you have a moment?”
“Of course.”
He quietly closed the door. “You know I am not one to pass on gossip, but I’ve just overheard something I thought you should know.”
“And what would that be?”
“Lady Gatewood is trying to convince Sir William to propose to Miss Drexel.”
“Really?” She smiled.
Mr. Lawrence lowered his gray eyebrows. “You would be happy to see him marry an American?”
“If her money can secure our positions, then yes, I’d be very happy indeed.” She leaned forward. “I’d tell him to marry a China doll if she had a fortune that would save Highland.”
Mr. Lawrence sniffed and tugged at his waistcoat. “Well, I certainly would not.”
“Then ’tis time you stopped being so particular and started thinking about the future—yours and mine, to be precise.”
He sat in the chair opposite her. “I suppose you’re right. His marriage to Miss Drexel may be a necessity.”
Mrs. Emmitt cocked her head. “What do you mean?”
“The rumors about Sir William’s financial troubles are true. Lady Gatewood confirmed it. He must pay a large sum in death duties by the first of March, and now with the expenses incurred from the fire …” He shook his head. “He seems to have no other choice but to pursue Miss Drexel and her fortune. At least that’s Lady Gatewood’s opinion.”
“Did he agree?”
“He was hesitant to discuss it, perhaps because Nelson and I were present.”
Mrs. Emmitt adjusted her glasses. “I’m afraid there is another reason.”
Mr. Lawrence frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Miss Foster has set her cap for Sir William, and he’s tempted by the idea.”
“Miss Foster! Why, that’s more outrageous than him marrying an American heiress.” He held up his hands. “No. I don’t believe it. Sir William would not lower himself to marry a governess. He is a gentleman and much too dignified to do something unseemly like that.”
She pursed her lips and looked up at him. “I’m sorry to say it, but you’re wrong.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I overheard the two of them talking in the gallery, and her tone was very sweet and alluring, if you ask me.”
Mr. Lawrence’s face grew red. “Then she ought to go.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“And why not? We are in charge of the staff. If we believe she is acting in an improper manner, then we should dismiss her.”
“I don’t believe Sir William would allow it. If she’s to go, it must be her own decision.”
“But why would she do that?”
“I’m not sure, but we must think of a way to convince her it is her duty to leave.” Mrs. Emmitt stood, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. “If we don’t act soon, Highland will be lost, and we’ll all be out on our backsides before the snow melts.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Julia walked into her new room carrying the two outfits Lady Gatewood had sent over to replace her burned wardrobe. Both dresses were wrinkled and worn, and they looked as if they had been pulled from the bottom of a missionary barrel—and she was all too familiar with how clothing looked when it came out of a missionary barrel.
She chided herself for her ungrateful attitude. The dresses would be fine as soon as they had been washed and pressed. She also had a skirt and blouse and some undergarments that had been hanging on the line in the laundry the night of the fire. Still it was hard to be thankful after she saw the lovely dresses Alice Drexel had sent for Sarah, Katherine, and Penny. Some would need to be altered a bit, but at least they wouldn’t have to wear their dressing gowns until new clothes could be ordered in Fulton.
She glanced around and released a soft sigh. This guest ro
om was much larger than her former quarters. The soft green-and-gold color scheme gave it a pleasing, feminine touch. But it had not been used for quite some time, and it was in need of a good cleaning. The maids were all busy, so she had offered to see to it herself. She didn’t mind. She was used to caring for her home and family.
She laid the dresses on the chair near the fireplace and crossed to the window. Opening the shutters, she looked out across the snow-covered parkland. The golden sun dipped low, ready to slip behind the rolling hills in the distance. Several massive cedars, dusted with snow, stood like dark giants stationed around the park. A few other trees lifted their bare, black branches in sharp contrast to the pale lavender sky.
Highland was beautiful in the winter. What would it look like in the spring? Would she be here to see nature come back to life, to stroll across the hills and fields with Andrew, Millie, and William?
Her heart ached as she thought of the letter she had received two days earlier from her mother. Her father was regaining his strength, and he spoke every day about returning to India. It was good news, really. She ought to be glad. But she sighed and turned away, uncertain how she would ever leave William.
“May I come in?” Mrs. Emmitt stood in the open doorway, carrying a stack of folded sheets and pillow covers. “I brought these up for you.”
“Thank you. That’s kind, especially when you have so much to do today.”
“I hope the room is adequate.”
“It’s lovely. I’m quite content.” She forced a smile, though her heart was heavy. She was probably just tired from the emotional strain of the fire and having been awake most of the previous night.
Mrs. Emmitt placed the sheets on the end of the bed. “I don’t want to trouble you, but there is something we should discuss.”
A slight feeling of apprehension rose in her heart, but she nodded.
“It’s a delicate matter. I’m not quite certain how to begin.”
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