How to Claim a Governess’s Heart - Bridget Barton Page 0,60
other of those options if only to spare herself a little pain in her already dismal life.
“I have faith in you,” Lord John smiled. “I am sure – despite being human – you will always do right by others. It’s what I admire about you. You were so willing to open your heart to Betsy and love her. So willing to do whatever was asked of you for the sake of her happiness. In fact, I would argue in many ways you have inspired me to be a better person such as yourself.”
Bridget flushed at his abundance of compliments. She so loved how open and frank he was with her when it came to his own honest opinions.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace,” Betsy’s soft singsong voice called ahead of them.
Both were drawn out of their conversation to see who the child could possibly be talking to. Standing just up the path from them was the Duke of Ludford’s imposing figure. He was looking down at Betsy, who had curtsied before him with unflinching pride. Lord John released his hold on Bridget’s arm to rush in an attempt to intercept the child.
In typical situations, children were rarely seen, let alone heard. For a child of eight to walk up to a duke and announce herself would be disgustingly unorthodox in the duke’s eyes.
Lord John reached Betsy, who looked up at him full of pride. He supposed she was looking for a reward in making a proper greeting. In any other circumstance, he would have beamed back down at her in pride, but today his face was covered in nervous fear.
Bridget shared his concern and hastened to hurry to the child. She suddenly hated the necessity for ladies to wear dresses. Every step was only half the length of Lord John’s. She had heard the duke’s wrath bellow down on Lord John and feared he would do the same to such a delicate creature.
“Is this how you take care of your ward?” the duke scoffed as Lord John put a protective arm on Betsy. “She runs wild like a native and bounds up to just anyone and announces her presence as if it is an occasion to take notice.”
Bridget burned hot in the cheeks at his words. Though they spewed out in Lord John’s direction, Betsy was no simpleton. She would understand every insult, and its meaning, in regard to her.
Bridget would have liked to shout at the duke. To make him see that Betsy was just happy to see a familiar family face again. She had no to little knowledge of the enmity between her Godfather and this man. In her mind, she had done right by giving a proper greeting.
“Oh, Ludford, she is just a spritely thing,” the duke’s companion chuckled. “Look how happy she was to recognise your face as she passed and give her salutation. It was a most exquisitely executed curtsy, if I don’t say so myself,” he added with a wink to Betsy.
Bridget had just come to the aid slightly out of breath. She reached a hand out, and Betsy instantly took it, shrinking close to Bridget’s grey skirt folds.
“I meant no disrespect, sir,” Betsy’s voice quivered as she endeavoured to hide herself.
“Your Grace,” Bridget softly corrected.
She didn’t need the duke biting off the child’s head again for not showing him proper respect in title.
“Your Grace,” Betsy mumbled just above a whisper.
“She meant no disrespect, brother. She was just happy to see you. Why? I can’t say when you can’t seem to find it in your heart to show a little love to an innocent child.”
“I would much rather show her propriety than coddling. It is clear you are of a weaker mind, brother,” the duke shot back. “I wonder what other follies she has developed in your care.”
“You two are always at each other’s throats. Why not give it a rest for a spell,” the duke’s companion chimed in.
He was a tall frame of a man, just as Lord John and the duke were, and seemed to be closer in age to Ludford than the latter. His hair was the darkest black and he had a slight olive tone to his complexion. His eyes sparkled like honey as he talked in a good-natured way. Bridget couldn’t decide if he did just instantly give off a kindly warm air or if that was the only option when compared to the Duke of Ludford.
“I don’t believe we have been introduced, ma’am,” he said, bowing slightly towards Bridget.