member of the Ton. I could not believe that a lady who could very well join Lord John’s family only sees Betsy as a problem, and Lord John’s own personal happiness a nuisance to be dealt with.
Luckily, before I could say anything too damaging and offensive to the lady, Lord John appeared, ending all chances of further conversation. I did my best to enquire delicately into these plans and accusations by the lady while having Lord John’s ears.
If I can assume that what he tells me is honest and true – and I have no reason to doubt his truthfulness – it would seem that he has found Betsy to be a great joy in his life. I daresay he didn’t seem to have any desires to take courses of actions that would separate the two from one another.
It gave me great comfort to hear these words spoken by him. As I sit in my bed by this single candlelight, the ghost of ‘what if’ has circled my mind. If Lady Temperance’s words are the Ton's general consensus, I am not entirely sure Lord John has the power to keep his current household intact.
I fear that this is a worry for both their sakes that will continue to keep me up.
Chapter 13
Now having come to a realisation of his feelings, Lord John was having difficulty acting naturally around Miss Thatcher. Well, he at least felt like he was not functioning normally. He found his affection for her so distracting that he might not entirely listen to the words she would speak to him during late-night conversations. Instead, he would study and appreciate her mannerisms and beauty.
But his recognition of his feelings was also a jolt of energy to his soul. It was as if all the time since Miss Thatcher and Betsy’s arrival he had been fighting his own self from making these internal connections. Now that he had, he was released from the effort.
Every encounter with Miss Thatcher was like an adrenaline rush that took him hours to come down from. The effect was a renewed burst in writing and accomplishments. He found that he was working with greater ease and at a much faster pace.
Deep in his heart he knew what was spurring him on. He had a new goal. With a publisher willing to produce his work, Lord John would have a career, a means to provide for himself and Betsy, and most importantly, he could remove the required shackles of his brother in exchange for money. He would be free to marry as he wished.
Right now he only had one wish, and that was to marry Miss Thatcher. He was sure that not only would she be a wonderful mother to Betsy, as she already was, but that they also were perfectly complementary to each other.
Of course, he had yet to uncover if Miss Thatcher had any feelings for him. Naturally, this would be paramount in any match, but he was sure that if she did find a reason to return his affection for her that they would have no trouble living a long and happy life together.
“Lord John, a letter has arrived from your brother,” Mrs. Smith said, coming into the breakfast room.
It had been a week since the ball and only two days since the new year. Lord John was rather hoping that despite the audacious occasion, it would not reach the ears of the duke. Surely a ball in honour of a governess wouldn’t sit well with his brother. Not to mention the fact that he would also wonder why a governess was present at all.
“I thought it best to hand it right to you,” she finished, giving him the letter.
“Thank you, Mrs. Smith. You were right to do so. If you will excuse me,” he said, coming to a stand. “I will go and read this in my office. I bid you all a good morning,” he said, leaving Betsy, Miss Thatcher and Miss Smith to finish their breakfast.
Lord John wasted no time opening the note. Sitting at his desk, he scanned through it quickly, heart sinking with every word written.
He read it a second time, this time more slowly. Though he knew the time would come for the duke to learn of his ward, he half hoped he could have kept it from him until after his manuscript was accepted by a publisher. It had been a foolish notion.
“Is everything all right,” Miss Thatcher's soft voice asked from the doorway.
Lord John