“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.
“Very 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?”