As she watched Lord Steadwell hearing his daughters’ prayers, Grace strove to make sense of what had happened in the past half hour.
She had fully expected Lord Steadwell’s rebuke for letting Phoebe run off to the stables right before bed. Though she wanted to excuse herself on account of her exhaustion and her uncertainty about how much freedom her new pupils were permitted, she knew she had made a serious lapse in judgment. It was a lapse over which her employer had every right to be vexed.
So she had done what she’d learned to do at school whenever one of her teachers scolded her for vanity or laziness or disobedience. She accepted the criticism in meek silence, heeding as much of it as she could bear in an effort to improve herself. But when it got to be more than she could absorb without breaking down in tears, she had imagined herself encased in a thick sheath of ice, which nothing could penetrate to harm her. It muffled the words until they became nothing more than a rumble of noise without any meaning.
She’d soon discovered it was more difficult to reduce Lord Steadwell’s voice to a harmless babble. Its pitch and timber were so very agreeable that she found herself compelled to listen carefully, even when she could not expect to hear anything good.
Phoebe’s sudden appearance had jarred Grace out of her protective trance. The last thing she’d ever expected was for that willful girl to come to her defense at the risk of incurring her father’s wrath. It reminded her of the times at school when Rebecca or Evangeline had stood up for her, deflecting the spiteful anger of their teachers. It made her feel worthy of something better than blame and belittlement.
Yet, as much as Phoebe’s behavior had surprised her, Lord Steadwell’s reaction amazed her even more. Upon hearing what Phoebe had to say, he had not only been diverted from his annoyance with Grace, but also admitted he was wrong to blame her. He’d gone so far as to beg her pardon.
That went contrary to all her previous experience. Even when it was proved that she had been unjustly punished, none of her teachers at the Pendergast School had ever shown the slightest remorse for their mistake. Lord Steadwell’s apology was all the more difficult to fathom because he was not entirely wrong to hold her responsible for what had happened.
If only he had left it at a simple apology.
Grace’s stomach seethed over his suggestion that they meet late in the evening to discuss her duties. She would have preferred he stay vexed with her. At least that might have provided an extra layer of protection against any unwelcome attention from her new employer.
“God bless Papa.” A fervent note in Sophie’s small voice made it clear she believed she was speaking directly to her Heavenly Father, who listened with perfect attention, as ready to grant her requests as her doting Papa. “And God bless Charlotte and Phoebe and Mamzell“
When Sophie paused, her father leaned close and whispered something in her ear, after which she continued, “God, bless Miss Ella and help us behave well so she will want to stay at Nethercross. Amen.”
Did his lordship truly believe she might leave because his daughters behaved badly? If only he knew she was far more concerned about his behavior. Not that he had given her any reason to be… yet.
“Sleep well.” Sophie’s father tucked the bedclothes around her then pressed a kiss on her forehead. “And sweet dreams.”
“Thank you, Papa.” The child replied in a drowsy murmur. “Will you come and hear our prayers again tomorrow night?”
His lordship flinched slightly at his daughter’s request and cast a furtive glance toward Grace. “Perhaps I will. I reckon I should visit the nursery more often. At least until Miss Ellerby grows more accustomed to our ways.”
Much as Grace wished he would keep his distance, she knew she should welcome his presence for the sake of his young daughters. It would not be easy for them when their father went away to London for days at a time, while they tried to become accustomed to a new governess.
When Lord Steadwell bid her good-night, Grace bobbed a curtsey and wished him the same. The instant the door closed behind him, she pulled off her spectacles and rubbed her tired eyes. Would she ever get used to wearing this dowdy disguise? She comforted herself with the reminder that his lordship would soon be away from Nethercross during the week. She would not need to maintain such a heightened state of vigilance then.
Eager to get to bed after her long day, Grace checked to make certain the girls were settled for the night. She found Phoebe faced toward the wall, though she sensed the child was not asleep. For a moment she stood quietly watching and listening until a heave of Phoebe’s shoulders and a covert sniffle betrayed the child’s distress. Grace recognized the signs all too well. How often had she shed a few tears at the end of a hard day at school, forced to muffle her sobs from a dormitory full of girls?
Though part of her wanted to respect Phoebe’s privacy, the need to relieve the child’s misery was far stronger.
She settled herself on the edge of Phoebe’s bed. “It was very brave of you to speak to your father on my behalf. Very brave and very kind.”
The bedclothes over Phoebe’s shoulder rippled as she gave a shrug. “I wish I didn’t have to. Now Papa will never let me go say good-night to Jem. The last one he sees will always be P-Peter. My pony will think he belongs to the stable boy and not to m-me!”
“What made you speak up then, if you knew there might be such unpleasant consequences?” Grace’s gratitude was mixed with puzzlement.
Another shrug. “I knew Papa would put a stop to my stable visits anyway once he found out. And it wasn’t fair for you to get in trouble for what I did. I’m sorry I made Papa angry with you on your first day here.”
“Apology accepted.” Grace ran a hand over the child’s shoulder in a sympathetic caress. Already she felt more attached to Phoebe than to any of the children she’d taught before. None of them would have hesitated to make her the scapegoat for their misbehavior. “I understand how your feelings for your pony made you do what you might not have otherwise.”
“You do?” Phoebe gave a loud sniffle.
“Yes.” Much as she’d feared getting into trouble at school, Grace had broken a number of rules over the years for the sake of her friends. “I cannot promise anything, but I will speak to your father about finding a way to let you spend more time with Jem.”