How to Claim a Governess’s Heart - Bridget Barton Page 0,21

course, sir," was all Miss Thatcher could manage to reply.

Lord John wished it had taken longer to settle the child in, but fifteen minutes after his request, a knock on the parlour door signalled the governess's return.

Lord John waited while Miss Thatcher took a chair across from him before he began. He could see she was dreading this conversation as much as he was by the constant wringing of her hands.

"I am sure you are well aware that I am not presently in a situation to take on a small child in my home, no matter how much I wish it," Lord John started, staring into the fire.

"However, I know Frank and Elisabeth had strong desires that I keep Betsy with me instead of my mother. I want to honour their wishes. I told you this morning that I was to go and make arrangements for Betsy. I have endeavoured to do what I think will be in her best interests."

Lord John paused in his speech as he ran a hand through his sandy hair. He wished to get this over with without wanting to say it in the first place.

"I know you will do whatever is best for Betsy," Miss Thatcher said in a weak, shaky voice.

Lord John looked up at her and noticed she too was staring at the fire. It seemed both of them had no desire to get this conversation over with.

"I suppose I should just say it, then," John said with a mirthless chuckle. "I have decided to put Betsy in a boarding school. It will only be for the year while I get my situation in order. I know it won't be easy for her, but it will give me the best chance to meet my goal and create a proper future living environment for her."

Lord John watched Miss Thatcher now as he spoke. Though her eyes never lifted from the fire, he could see the sorrow rising in her expression. He knew that sending Betsy away was not the best situation for a child who had just lost both parents.

Strangely he felt the need to justify the situation to the governess and thereby receive her approval. He knew it was completely irrational to want the permission of a governess when it came to decisions for his new family of two, but still, he desired it.

"I want you to know," he continued, "that if I don't find a publishing company by the time the deal is up with my brother, I will take the commission. With Betsy to think of now, I know that financial stability is far more important than any dreams or wishes I might have. I only want to see it through this once, and if it doesn't work out, I will be resigned to my lot in life."

Miss Thatcher looked up at him as he spoke these words. She studied him as he recited his plan in a determined voice.

"I know you are a good man," she said softly. "You will do what is right."

He let out a long breath he hadn't realised he was holding. Lord John was surprised at how much he had wanted her to say something of that sort to him. In his heart, he honestly wondered if he had found the best solution for all parties involved.

"If I may ask, what school did you have in mind for Betsy. One here in London?"

"Not here in London, no, but not far away. Betsy will easily be able to return home for the holidays. It is a well-established school that takes several students a year. It's called Miss Heartfelt's Seminary for Pious Young Ladies."

"No!" Miss Thatcher shouted before Lord John could scarcely get the whole name out.

Lord John looked at her in shock. Miss Thatcher had jumped from her seat and was standing, her hands shaking fists and fear in her large eyes. Her skin had taken on a pale sheen and Lord John thought she might faint.

Quickly he stood, taking her by the elbow to keep her steady. She looked up at him with a pleading expression, perhaps willing her ears to have heard anything but the school he had named.

"Miss Thatcher? Bridget, you don't look well at all. Sit back down," Lord John coaxed as he eased her back to her seat.

Instead of taking his place across from her, he sat on the small sofa alongside the trembling governess. He hesitated for only a moment before his desires took control. Using both hands, he cupped

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