“Who was the worst?”
Why did Charlotte want to know all this? So she could gloat over the governess she detested and now had in her power to destroy?
“My teachers at school,” Grace admitted, uncertain what compelled her to answer. Perhaps it was because she had so little to lose. Or could it be that she was tired of hiding her past and her true self? “And the great girls. That was what we called the older pupils who bullied and tormented us younger ones. I was a favorite target because they envied my looks, I suppose. Or perhaps they could tell I was not very good at standing up for myself.”
Could that be part of the reason she and Charlotte had gotten off on the wrong foot—because Charlotte sensed Grace’s weakness from the beginning?
“That school sounds dreadful.” Charlotte insisted fiercely. “Why didn’t you just go home?”
Grace hesitated, but she could not suppress the truth. “I had no home to go to. The school was an institution for the orphaned daughters of clergymen. My stepmother sent me there after my father died. I doubt she would have taken me back even if I’d wanted to go home... which I did not. Harsh as conditions were at the school, at least there I had a few friends.”
“Is that who you write letters to all the time?” asked Charlotte.
Grace nodded. “We are all scattered about now. I have not seen any of the others since we left school. You are very fortunate to have your sisters so close.”
“Too close sometimes,” Charlotte muttered. “Tell me about these friends of yours.”
Grace was sorely tempted to declare that her friends were none of Charlotte’s business, but she could not risk vexing the child. “Leah Shaw was often up to some bit of mischief to make us laugh. Phoebe reminds me of her. Rebecca Beaton was one of the smallest girls in our year but fierce as a lion if the great girls tried to pick on any of us.”
If Rebecca were here now, she would find a way to keep Charlotte from tattling to Lord Steadwell. But Rebecca was many miles away in the Cotswolds.
Grace did not intend to tell Charlotte too much, but once she began talking about her friends, it seemed to bring them closer. She was in the middle of a funny story about Leah Shaw when she noticed Charlotte trying to smother a yawn.
“That is a great deal more than you wanted to know, I’m sure. You should get to bed.”
Charlotte nodded as she rose from her chair. “I am tired. Good night, Miss Ellerby.”
Was it her imagination, or did the child’s tone sound more amiable? Probably the former because Charlotte had given no promise that she intended to keep Grace’s secret.
Something had changed this week while he’d been in London. As Rupert stood at the window of his study staring down toward the river, he was not certain what had changed or how it had come about, yet he sensed the altered atmosphere. In general, he mistrusted change. Its results could be positive, but all too often they were not. It remained to be seen which result this change would yield.
He had left London early on Friday because there was no pressing legislation before the House of Lords. After his talk with Charlotte the previous week, he wanted to make certain she was giving her governess the cooperation he’d insisted upon. When he reached home, he’d found all three girls busy with their lessons.
To his surprise, Phoebe was engrossed in a book on a mild afternoon that would have been perfect for riding. Sophie was not off in some daydream world, but eagerly relating a story that the governess copied down for her. Charlotte seemed too absorbed in a composition she was writing to cause Miss Ellerby any trouble.
All three girls started up with ready smiles when he appeared.
“Forgive me for interrupting,” he begged their governess. “After getting home so late the other week, I wanted to make it up to my daughters at the first opportunity.”
“You needn’t apologize, sir.” Miss Ellerby fiddled with her spectacles, which he could have sworn she had not been wearing a moment ago. “The girls have been working very hard at their studies. They deserve some time away from their books to be with you.”
“That’s the second time this week we’ve had a break from lessons,” cried Phoebe.
The governess winced at the child’s words, as if she expected Rupert to chide her for neglecting her duty. In fact, he could not be better happier with her work. Though Phoebe still talked constantly of her pony, she often mentioned new things she’d learned in a tone that conveyed enthusiasm for her studies. Sophie seemed happier than she had been since Mademoiselle Audet left. Charlotte was quieter than usual and not so quick to boss her younger sisters.
At first Rupert wondered if she might still be vexed with him for insisting she obey Miss Ellerby. But she seemed affectionate enough, in spite of her subdued manner. Perhaps she was simply maturing—discovering that he could question her behavior yet still love her as much as ever.
The thought of his daughters growing up triggered an insistent voice in the back of Rupert’s mind. It urged him to get busy courting Barbara Cadmore. The lady was out of mourning and eligible to remarry without violating propriety. She was a handsome woman of property and still relatively young. If he did not soon signal his intentions, some other suitor might steal the march on him.
Though he knew it was the sensible course of action, part of him remained reluctant. The same part that mistrusted change, no doubt.
As he passed several pleasant hours in the nursery with his daughters, Rupert sensed a change in Miss Ellerby as well. She seemed more guarded and aloof, less like the sensitive, nurturing lady he’d glimpsed of late.
The girls were delighted when he suggesting dining with them in the nursery. While Rupert quizzed them about the things they’d done that week, their governess perched on the edge of her seat, as if she expected disaster to befall at any moment.
After he’d helped her settle his daughters for the night, Rupert drew Miss Ellerby aside for a quiet word. “Charlotte hasn’t given you any more trouble, has she?”
“Not in the least, sir,” she replied in a tone that sounded sincere in spite of the uneasy glance she cast toward his daughter’s bed.
“I hope not.” He pitched his voice lower still to be certain Charlotte would not overhear. That meant he had to draw closer to Miss Ellerby. “If she is, I will back you up in whatever measures you see fit to take. If you think it would help, I can have another talk with her.”
“That will not be necessary, sir,” the governess assured him in a tight, emphatic whisper. “But I thank you for your concern. Whatever happens, I shall always be grateful for your support.”