by Deborah Hale
What Mrs. Cadmore said was perfectly true, yet Rupert could not suppress a surge of defensiveness that rose within him.
Before he had a chance to say something he might regret, Sophie burst out, “Miss Ella isn’t a plain mouse! She’s—”
“What my sister means,” Charlotte broke in, “is that Miss Ellerby is a fine governess and we do not judge her upon her appearance.”
“Of course you don’t, my dears.” Mrs. Cadmore beamed at Charlotte and her sister, clearly unperturbed that they had intruded upon an adult conversation. “How charitable of you. That is not the sort of virtue a child learns from a hired teacher, no matter what other accomplishments she instills.”
Just then, Rupert wished he was up in the nursery eating an informal meal with his daughters and their governess. But duty demanded certain sacrifices and this was not such an onerous one.
Not inclined to abide any more subtle jabs at Miss Ellerby, he changed the subject to crops and weather, matters of mutual interest to their neighboring estates. After dinner had concluded, he and the girls bid their guests a good night. Then Phoebe ran off to visit the stables, as she had been promised as a reward for her good behavior. Sophie’s eyes were growing heavy so Rupert carried her up to bed while Charlotte walked along beside him.
“Papa,” she asked, “are you certain you only invited the Cadmores to be neighborly?”
His daughter’s question made Rupert uneasy, as if he were planning something shameful, when he was doing this for the benefit of Charlotte and her sisters.
“There is another reason,” he glanced down at Sophie who had already fallen asleep in his arms. “The fact is... I should like us all to become better acquainted with the Cadmores because... I believe it might be in everyone’s best interests to... unite our two families... eventually.”
“Unite?” Charlotte stopped abruptly. “You mean—?”
At that moment, the nursery door swung open and Miss Ellerby peeped out. “I thought I heard voices. Charlotte, what is the matter? You look ill!”
“It’s Papa.” The child dodged past her governess into the nursery. “He’s going to marry Mrs. Cadmore!”
Miss Ellerby’s mouth fell open and she stared at Rupert over the tops of her spectacles. Her air of disapproval made him more determined than ever to do what he must.
Chapter Nine
“MARRIED!” CHARLOTTE GROANED and rested her head upon a page of the book she was supposed to be reading during Monday morning lessons. Clearly the child had too much on her mind to concentrate on her studies. “Why does he have to get married again? We’re perfectly fine as we are.”
Since Saturday evening, the girls had talked constantly of their father’s plans whenever he was out of earshot. When he was nearby, they’d been stiff and guarded, as if expecting him to announce more bad news.
Since his lordship had returned to London, his daughters seemed determined to give the subject a thorough airing. Grace sensed that any attempt to turn their attention back to their studies would only prolong their preoccupation. It might be better if she let them vent their feelings then do her best to calm their fears. Not that it would be easy. She had her own misgivings about Lord Steadwell’s marriage plans.
Charlotte’s abrupt announcement of her father’s intentions toward Mrs. Cadmore had hit Grace like a hard blow to the belly. Perhaps it was because the situation reminded her of all the unhappiness her father’s remarriage had caused. She could not bear to think of her young pupils having to endure what she had. That must be why her heart ached a little with every beat.
In answer to Charlotte’s outburst, Grace set aside the story she’d been copying for Sophie and replied, “I know you dislike change. So do I. But it comes whether we like it or not. Each day we grow older. People are born, marry... die. Governments come and go. Wars are won or lost. Nothing stays the same forever except God’s love. All we can do is pray for strength to make the best of whatever comes.”
It was sound advice, learned from years of bitter experience. Yet even as she spoke, Grace felt her words rang hollow. It would be wrong for his lordship to marry Mrs. Cadmore, and all the prayers in the world could not make her accept such a great mistake with patient resignation.
“Besides,” she added before the girls could challenge her sincerity. “I thought you liked Mrs. Cadmore. You were so eager to visit Dungrove awhile back, remember?”
“I didn’t want to go because I like that woman.” Charlotte gave a mutinous scowl. “I wanted to get out for a visit. Anywhere would have done just as well. I wish I’d known she only invited us to worm her way into Papa’s affections.”
Though Grace knew it was her duty to deny the child’s suspicions, she could not for she had entertained the same doubts.
“I don’t know why Papa wants to marry her.” For once Phoebe seemed to care about something other than her pony. “I don’t believe he likes her very much.”
Grace could not dispute that either. “It is best when people marry for love. But sometimes there may be other reasons they believe are more important.”
“What other reasons?” Phoebe demanded.
“You would have to ask your father about that.”
“I tried,” Charlotte muttered. “He said I was too young to understand and he didn’t wish to discuss it with me. He seems to think this is none of our business.”
Phoebe slammed her book down. “If he marries Mrs. Cadmore, we will be the ones saddled with a stepmother. I should say that makes it our business.”
“Will Mrs. Cadmore be our stepmother?” Sophie’s lower lip began to quiver.
“Of course she will,” Phoebe snapped. “What did you suppose we’ve been on about all this time?”
Before Grace could reproach Phoebe for taking out her frustration on her little sister, Sophie wailed, “I don’t want a stepmother! She’ll make me clean the cinders and never let me go to parties!”
The child threw herself into Grace’s arms, sobbing.
“Hush now.” Grace stroked Sophie’s hair as she cast the two older girls a warning look. However anxious they might be about their father remarrying, it was no excuse for upsetting their sensitive little sister. “You know Mother Goose stories aren’t true. Pumpkins cannot turn into coaches or field mice into footmen.”
“But stepmothers can be cruel,” Charlotte insisted. “Yours said horrid things to you and sent you away to that dreadful school. That was much worse than cleaning cinders!”
What Charlotte said was true, Grace acknowledged as she tried to comfort Sophie. How could she tell the girls not to worry about something that troubled her so deeply?
“Will you talk to Papa, Miss Ella?” Phoebe pleaded. “He listens to your advice more than anyone else’s. He won’t be able to claim you’re too young to understand.”
“I couldn’t.” Grace fished out a handkerchief to wipe Sophie’s dribbling nose. “It is not my place to interfere in your father’s personal business.”
“Phoebe’s right.” Charlotte declared. “Papa does listen to you. He did about Phoebe and her pony. He did about me even when I tried to persuade him otherwise. He told me he trusts your judgment.”
Had Lord Steadwell said that? In the midst of Grace’s turmoil a flicker of satisfaction stirred.
“That is not the same.” She dared not encourage the girls. “He only followed my advice about matters that affect your upbringing because that is the job he hired me to do.”
“Will Papa’s plan to inflict a stepmother upon us have no effect on our upbringing?” demanded Charlotte, her voice shrill.
The girls were far too persuasive—Sophie with her tears quite as much as the other two with their words. Grace could not deny their father had listened to her advice in the past. She might persuade him to think more carefully about the consequences of his proposed actions. At the very least, she could listen to his reasons for wanting to marry and explain them to the girls in a way that might calm their fears.
“V
ery well.” She raised her palms in surrender. “I can see no more work will get done until I agree. If I promise to speak to your father on the matter, will you all try to put it out of your minds and concentrate on your studies?”
“Yes, Miss Ellerby.” Charlotte and Phoebe looked as if they were swearing a blood oath.
Sophie gave a loud sniff and an emphatic nod.
All three girls gazed at her with glowing confidence. They seemed to believe she had only to speak to their father and he would immediately abandon his plans to remarry. Though she appreciated their faith in her, Grace had no such optimistic hopes.
For the first time since he had returned to Parliament, Rupert was grateful to have had a week away from his beloved daughters. He had not expected them to react with such hostility to the news of his marriage plans. He might have been wiser to keep them to himself until the girls had a chance to become better acquainted with Mrs. Cadmore.
Ah well, there was no going back now. He would simply have to be firm with the girls and make it clear his mind was made up. He was doing this for their benefit and he knew best. Still, he feared the next few days would be awkward between them.
When he arrived home, he found the girls out riding in the paddock. Phoebe cantered about on Jem, natural and confident in the saddle. Charlotte was riding a full-grown mare at a sedate walk, her posture stiffly erect. It was clear she considered riding a necessary skill she must master, rather than the joy her sister found it. Sophie perched on the back of a smaller pony being led around by her governess. She looked a bit unsteady but excited to be taking part in an activity with her elder sisters.
“Welcome home, Papa!” Phoebe spotted him and rode swiftly to the paddock fence. “How was your week in London?”
His daughter’s eager greeting came as a vast relief.
He gave a cheerful shrug. “Well enough. Plenty of debates to listen to. I went out to the theatre on Wednesday evening. The play was rather good. How was your week?”
Before Phoebe could answer, Sophie waved and called out, “Look at me, Papa! I’m learning to ride just like the big girls.”
Rupert smiled and waved back. “Well done. And a fine seat you have.”
“We had a good week,” Phoebe continued with her interrupted reply as Charlotte rode gingerly over to join them at the fence. “Miss Ellerby is teaching us all about the Civil War. We looked all over the house for paintings from that time. I think James Kendrick was very brave and clever to float those supplies into Reading during the siege.”
“Welcome home, Papa.” Charlotte’s tone was not quite as enthusiastic as her sisters but warm enough to suggest she did not intend to sulk over his plans to remarry. “The weather has been lovely this week. We played pall mall one day and went for a punt on the river.”
“I am pleased to hear it.” Rupert glanced toward Grace Ellerby, who was leading Sophie’s pony toward them. “The fresh air and sunshine will do you good.”
Their activities must have provided a diversion for the girls. No doubt their governess had talked some sense into his daughters, making them understand the advantages of Nethercross having a mistress again. More than ever, he was grateful to Grace Ellerby and pleased with himself for having hired her. He looked forward to dining in the nursery then having a talk with her once his daughters were tucked in for the night.
After their first evening stroll by the river, those discussions had become a custom to which he looked forward. They provided an opportunity to hear from her about everything his girls had been learning and doing in his absence—especially things they might not remember to tell him over dinner. It was also a chance to hear whether she had any concerns about his daughters’ health, spirits or behavior.
At first the governess had seemed rather guarded during their meetings. Perhaps she’d assumed he was judging her performance. Lately, however, she appeared more at ease.
After the girls returned their mounts to the stables, they joined their father and governess for a relaxed dinner in the nursery. His daughters were all in good spirits and no one said a word about marriage or Mrs. Cadmore.
“I beg your pardon, sir,” said Miss Ellerby after the girls were tucked up in bed. “Might I have a word with you if it would not be inconvenient?”
Her stiff stance and shifting gaze suggested that she expected him to refuse... perhaps even hoped he would.
“My dear Miss Ellerby, it is never an inconvenient time for you to speak with me.” Rupert strove to put her at ease. “I would be disappointed to miss one of our Friday evening chats. I noticed a few of the linden trees have kept their blossoms. Would you care to walk there with me again?”
The lady flinched at his suggestion, which troubled him more than it should have. “Thank you, sir, but I have been out of doors a great deal this week. Perhaps we could speak in your study instead?”
“Yes, of course, if that is what you wish.” Rupert tried to ignore a foolish pang of disappointment.
Being in his study would emphasize the gulf between them as master of the house and employee, rather than two people who cared a great deal for his young daughters. Still, he tried to strike up a friendly conversation as they walked down to his study, talking about events in London and preparations under way to confront Napoleon. Miss Ellerby listened with polite interest but said very little in reply. Rupert wondered if something was bothering her. But what? The children all seemed well and happy.
Once they reached his study and were seated, Miss Ellerby did not keep him guessing what was on her mind. “I wished to speak with you, sir, about the matter you discussed with Charlotte last week.”
“My intention to court Mrs. Cadmore, you mean?” Suddenly Rupert guessed what might be weighing on Miss Ellerby’s mind. “If you are worried that my remarriage will affect your position at Nethercross, you may put your mind at ease. Mrs. Cadmore thinks quite as highly of you as I do. I am certain she will be only too happy to have you continue in charge of my daughters. There may even be more young Kendricks coming along for you to teach in future years. Given our agreement regarding your salary, you could end up quite handsomely paid for a year’s service—and worth every farthing, to my mind.”
His reassurance did not appear to have the affect he’d hoped for.
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate the confidence you place in me. It is not for myself that I am concerned but for your daughters. They are terribly upset at the prospect of you marrying Mrs. Cadmore and they begged me to speak with you on their behalf.”
“Terribly upset? Nonsense! Perhaps the news came as a bit of a shock last week. But today they were all in fine spirits. None of them said a peep about Mrs. Cadmore.”
The governess heaved an impatient sigh. “That is because you forbade them to mention the subject. And the only reason they seem happy is because they have faith in my ability to persuade you to reconsider your decision before it is too late.”
“Before it is too late?” Rupert sprang from his chair and circled behind it. He felt as if he had come under attack and needed to take up a strong defensive position. “You make it sound as if I intend to commit a crime when I am only seeking to do right by my daughters and my estate.”
“Forgive me, Lord Steadwell.” She looked sincerely grieved at having offended him. “I am certain you have excellent reasons for what you intend to do.”
“But you think I am wrong all the same. I suppose you share my daughters’ belief that you can bring me to my senses.” He infused those final words with bitter scorn.
Miss Ellerby shook her head. “I wish I could, but I fear your decision is irrevocable.”
Well that was better. At least she recognized his resolve. “Then let us waste no more time in fruitless argument.”
“I wish I could oblige you, Lord Steadwell.” Her mouth settled into a stubborn line. “But I promised the girls I would try and I must keep my promise.”
Hang it all! Mousy Miss Ellerby was nearly as stubborn as he. “Let us get it over with
, then. What objections do my daughters have to my marrying Mrs. Cadmore?”
“First perhaps you could explain why you want to make the lady your wife.”
“I do not need to justify my decision to my daughters,” he snapped, “and certainly not to you, Miss Ellerby.”
She shrank back in her chair, making Rupert regret his harsh tone. She was only doing what his daughters had begged of her, after all. “I do not feel entitled to an explanation, sir. But surely your children deserve one. Perhaps if they understand your reasons, they might become reconciled to the idea in time.”
When she put the matter that way, it seemed unreasonable to refuse. “It is not a decision I made lightly. Nor have I considered only my own interests—but those of everyone involved.”
“I would never take you for a selfish man, sir.”
Somehow that meant a great deal to him. “If I had only myself to consider, I would be content to remain a widower to the end of my days.”
Miss Ellerby’s pale brows kit together. “Then why...?”
“Because my daughters need a mother, for one thing.”
When he saw the look of hurt that gripped her features, Rupert hastened to add, “You have done an excellent job with the girls—better than I ever hoped. But they will not remain this age forever. When the time comes for Charlotte to make her debut or Phoebe to give up her pony in favor of a young gentleman, those situations will require something more than even the best governess can provide.”
Miss Ellerby opened her mouth to contradict him then seemed to acknowledge the truth of what he’d said by shutting it again.
Rupert took advantage of her silence to continue. “There is also the question of who would care for the girls if something were to happen to me before they come of age. They have godparents, of course, but that might make it necessary to split them up.”
“And you think a stepmother would be any better?” The question burst from Miss Ellerby’s lips.
“I do,” he replied. “Otherwise I would not think of remarrying. Finally, there is the matter of Nethercross and what will become of it when I am gone. Unless I have a son to succeed me, the heir to my title and this estate would be a feckless cousin. I would not trust him with anything of value.”
