How to Claim a Governess’s Heart - Bridget Barton Page 0,10

her to breakfast. From there, Betsy would spend the remainder of the morning with Bridget. Lunch would be attended by both the nursemaid and Bridget, followed by an afternoon with Bridget. Betsy would then stay with her governess until five o'clock.

If her parents were home, as they often were, she would recite some lessons for them and spend the remainder of the evening in her parents’ care with the nursemaid watching over. For her part, Bridget would have the evening to herself for lesson planning or, more often than not, reading books.

All had changed when the Smeltings had their accident. The whole household was dismissed as the house was to be shut up. Bridget took charge of Betsy, insisting that she and not the nursemaid should see her to her new home.

Bridget had known Betsy for years now, and the new nursemaid, though a kindly woman, had only started the past year. She was sure that Betsy would be more comfortable as she travelled cross-country to have a familiar face by her side.

The added duties of nursemaid as they travelled hadn't been much of a hindrance to Bridget. Betsy was such a docile girl. Even with the anxiety of travel and the added grief of never seeing her parents again, Betsy still had been in good temperament.

Though she knew Betsy's schedule had been rather precise growing up, she had allowed things to slide. Often, she let the child sleep in as late as she wanted, taking breakfast at whatever time suited Betsy. Now in the new house, Bridget was nervous to get the child back on a schedule.

The housekeeper had suggested that things were not scheduled here. However, Bridget still had a desire to get Betsy back into whatever form of normalcy she could. So, with that in mind, Bridget had risen with the sun, as was her custom, readied herself, quietly went down to the kitchen to get a fresh basin of water, and laid out the child's frock from the day before.

"Are we going back to the hotel?" Betsy asked in a sleepy voice.

"No, my dear, you are to stay here with Lord John now. We are just making ready to go down to breakfast."

"Are we to have it with Nanny?" Betsy asked as she sheepishly put one arm and then the other into her dress.

"Nanny had to go to another family," Bridget explained gently.

"Oh," was all Betsy answered in a sad voice.

Bridget struggled to find a way to lift the child's spirits as they made their way down to the breakfast room when Lord John intercepted them at the top of the stairs.

"Good morning, sir," Bridget said with a curtsy.

"Miss Thatcher. I trust the two of you slept well?"

Bridget answered in the affirmative. She considered asking after his own night, but the deep red of his eyes and slightly dishevelled cravat suggested his night was not as restful.

"We were just making our way to find breakfast," Bridget explained.

"Please, then let me guide you," Lord John said, extending his arm. "You go on ahead, Betsy, and see if you can find the breakfast room before us," he added to the little girl.

Betsy instantly lit up at the prospect of a game and skipped more than walked down the stairs. Before they had reached the halfway point of the staircase, Bridget could already hear Betsy opening and shutting doors as she inspected each room's contents.

"I think I found it," Betsy called as they reached the bottom of their descent.

"Did you, now?"

"Well, it must be. It has a long table, and the whole room smells of toast."

"That would be it," Lord John said with a broad smile on his face.

Despite the apparent fatigue that had shadowed his visage at the top of the stairs, by the bottom, his bright smile had replaced all semblance of sleepiness. Bridget couldn't help but catch some of his joyful light as she too smiled at the child's excitement at having won the game.

It was a bit strange for Bridget to be sitting down with Betsy and Lord John at the breakfast table. From her understanding, and experiences with the Smeltings, parents only on the rarest of occasions allowed children at their breakfast table and certainly didn't eat with the governess.

"I am quite happy to take my meal with Mrs. Smith in the kitchen if you would like some time alone with Betsy," Bridget suggested, feeling awkward.

"Actually Mrs. Smith often takes her meals in here with me," Lord John explained.

He smiled at her full-eyed expression.

"I

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