How to Claim a Governess’s Heart - Bridget Barton Page 0,50
a year was far too much time. I was far too gracious to you," the duke spat out, only giving a partial glance to the two others in the room.
"Miss Thatcher was Betsy's governess before they came here. She was kind enough to see the child to her new home, and stayed on at my request."
Miss Thatcher's eyes met Lord John's at his slight exaggeration of the truth. He nodded to her with a tight jaw. She easily could see that he was standing up for her, placing himself between Bridget and the duke.
"Well, I shall review your qualifications before you are transferred to my lodging. I'm sure you understand why," the duke informed.
It was the first and last time he looked at the governess. He turned back to his brother.
"I have taken up a house for the season on Brown Avenue. It is not the most accommodating, and I endured many complaints from Mother on its location. Perhaps if I had known you planned on regular house guests, I would have just sought the comfort of my own home."
Lord John bit his tongue to keep from spitting back what he thought of his brother's words. He knew it would be to his disadvantage to do so in front of others.
"Mother will be here at week’s end. I expect that will give you enough time to collect the child's belongings and transfer them over."
This whole time the duke had gone through his quick succession of orders as if they were all expected by the receiving party.
"What are you talking about, Daniel?" Lord John responded. "I wrote to you weeks ago and told you I had no plans to send Betsy to you or Mother. She is to stay here with me."
"Yes, I read that," the duke waved his hand away as if it was a trivial thing. "Mother was all up in arms about it. I assured her you just feared to send the child such a long distance at such a young age in the winter. You’re lucky the roads cleared early enough for Mother to take the trip."
"I assure you that travel, age and weather have nothing to do with it. Frank and Elisabeth asked me to look after their daughter, and I intend to keep to their wishes."
Miss Thatcher realised this conversation was not one for Betsy to hear. No child should have to listen to people fight over opinions on what was in her best nature.
"I think I shall take Betsy upstairs to get her ready for the evening meal," Miss Thatcher announced in the small pause of the argument. "It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace," she finished with a curtsy before quickly rushing out of the room through the main door that led to the hall, tugging the little girl along with her.
"You realise how preposterous that sounds?" the duke accused after they were out of the room. "You are a single man. You currently have next to no income. How you can afford a governess is beyond my understanding. The child will need a woman to bring her up in society. You know Mother is her Godparent as well. It is only right that she take charge of the child."
"It's not what they wanted," Lord John said in a calm but steady voice.
"I am sure at the time that Frank made the will, he assumed that if you were to ever take charge of their brood, it would be with a wife. He most likely felt it too impolite to put the task on the Duchess of Ludford. Your house would have been far more amiable to the situation their children are born to. But you have no wife. You know as well as I do that it doesn't look right for a single lord to take on a ward. Mother was sympathetic to the child's situation and is willing to raise her in the house as her own child. It's almost fortunate for her that the Smeltings passed away."
"Don't you ever say that," Lord John shouted in a rare loss of temper.
He was thankful that Miss Thatcher had the common sense to remove the child from this fight beforehand.
"Look, I know you and Frank were close," the duke said in a controlled rage. "But you go too far raising your voice to me. Sending the child to Mother is right, and you will do it," he shouted back, pointing a stern finger at his brother.