He opened the door to usher her and the girls out. “Do not fret, Miss Ellerby. I realize this was your first Sunday morning getting all three of the girls ready for church. I am willing to make allowances.”
“We were ready in plenty of time,” Charlotte grumbled as they walked toward the carriage and climbed in. “At least Sophie and I were. Phoebe made a mess of her ribbons, as usual. Then Miss Ellerby stood there staring off until I reminded her of the time.”
As Grace settled in the seat beside Phoebe, she braced for Lord Steadwell’s rebuke.
Instead his lordship cast Charlotte a warm smile as he sat beside her and took Sophie onto his lap. “That was good of you to help Miss Ellerby out.”
Grace could barely contain a sputter. Did he not realize that assisting her was the furthest thing from his daughter’s mind?
“Thank you, Papa,” Charlotte replied with feigned sweetness and a triumphant smirk. “You can always rely on me.”
That much was true, Grace reflected bitterly. They could rely on Charlotte to undermine her authority at every turn and report every mistake she committed.
It seemed his daughters were as divided in their opinions of their new governess as he was. Rupert reflected as they drove to church that morning.
Sophie still clearly missed Mademoiselle Audet and clung to Charlotte, who seemed to resent Miss Ellerby’s presence. Would she have felt the same way about anyone he’d hired, or had the new governess done something particular to provoke his daughter’s aversion? Phoebe, however, seemed to have taken a liking to Miss Ellerby after years of giving Mademoiselle nothing but trouble.
The child sat beside her new governess looking thoroughly pleased with herself and the world. “I want to thank you, Papa. Miss Ellerby told me what you decided about my visiting Jem. I will do everything you asked, I promise. I’ll prove I can be responsible.”
“I shall be happy if you do.” He now understood what had placed Miss Ellerby in Phoebe’s good graces. But the reason did not trouble him. This was such an agreeable change from the usual rebelliousness of his middle daughter. He only hoped it would last. “I cannot deny I had some reservations. But I thought it was good of you to speak up on Miss Ellerby’s behalf the other evening. That demonstration of character persuaded me you deserve an opportunity to prove yourself further.”
Phoebe’s eyes glowed with affection, the likes of which she usually reserved for her pony. Since her mother’s death, she and Rupert had been at odds more often than he cared to recall. She was so different from her sisters—so impulsive and willful. He did not love her any less for it. But he feared for her and felt compelled to protect her from her own recklessness. Had she mistaken his efforts for disapproval or oppression?
Much as he disliked being wrong, Rupert hoped Phoebe would rise to the occasion and justify Miss Ellerby’s faith in her. For now, he was pleased to enjoy the prospect of renewed closeness with his daughter—a blessing for which he had her governess to thank.
Rupert stole a brief glance from Phoebe to Miss Ellerby, for he sensed the governess did not like being stared at. He glimpsed a softening in the usual tight severity of her features, similar to her fleeting smile the previous night. Why did she seem to guard against such displays when they made her appearance so much more agreeable?
He had no time to ponder that puzzle, for just then the carriage pulled up in front of the parish church. “It seems we will not be late after all. The bells have not yet begun to toll.”
They climbed out of the carriage and headed across the churchyard with Sophie and Charlotte clinging to his hands while Phoebe strode along beside their governess. Rupert bowed and nodded to the neighbors and tenants who greeted him.
He detected a number of curious, disapproving looks cast in Miss Ellerby’s direction and found himself growing indignant on her behalf. Was that why she projected such a grim, forbidding air—because she was accustomed to people judging her harshly on account of her plainness? Now that she was a member of his household, he could not suppress an urge to defend her, even from the silent censure of his fellow parishioners. Christians, of all people, ought to recall that beauty was vain and favor fleeting.
“Yoo-hoo, Lord Steadwell!” A breathless feminine voice jarred Rupert from his thoughts.
He turned to see Mrs. Cadmore and her son hurrying to catch up with his family. The Cadmore estate bordered Nethercross and Rupert had been on cordial terms with its late owner.
“Good morning.” He bowed. “Why, Henry, I believe you have grown an inch in the past fortnight. Soon you will tower over your mother.”
“I fear he is outgrowing his strength,” Mrs. Cadmore declared in a tone of anxious fondness. “That is why I cannot think of sending him back to school next term. Speaking of schooling, I see you have found a replacement for your French governess. I always thought there was something altogether too worldly about her. I hope you were able to engage a proper English governess this time.”
Though Rupert doubted Mademoiselle Audet’s nationality had anything to do with her elopement, he hastened to introduce Miss Ellerby.
Mrs. Cadmore regarded her with a stiff little smile and a rather critical gaze, but in the end she gave an approving nod. “Welcome to our quiet little corner of the kingdom, my dear. You seem just the sort of person his lordship’s delightful daughters require. If you ever find yourself in need of a woman’s advice on child-rearing, I should be only too happy to assist you.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Miss Ellerby murmured.
“I doubt she will require much help of that nature.” Rupert was not certain what compelled him to speak as if he were defending her. “Miss Ellerby has been teaching children for nearly as long as you and I have been parents.”
Mrs. Cadmore laughed as if he had made a deliberate jest. “I have no doubt she is well-qualified, but one can scarcely compare the experience of a paid governess with that of a devoted mother.”
His pretty neighbor seemed prepared to hold forth on the subject at some length. Fortunately, the peal of the church bell summoned them all to worship.
During brief moments between the various parts of the service, Rupert found his thoughts turning to Barbara Cadmore. Her husband had passed away a little over a year ago, yet she seemed to have put her grief behind her and moved sensibly forward with her life. Part of him envied her peace of mind. A year after Annabelle’s death, the gaping wound in his heart had tormented him even more than in the beginning. Yet, he could not help wondering if his neighbor had recovered much faster from the loss of her husband because she had not cared for him to such a perilous degree.