Mr. Gardiner and the Governess - Sally Britton Page 0,45

for many of my younger cousins. I am quite familiar with children and schoolrooms. I have always tried to make myself useful.”

The smallness of her voice at that admission caused his heart to crack. How could anyone make her feel of such little value that she had to make herself useful to live with her own family? No wonder she kept quiet in the presence of others. No wonder she defended the orphaned Geoffrey with such kindness. How little of that had she known in her own youth, passed from one household to another?

Rupert put aside his plate and reached for her hand before she could tug another grape off the stem only to let it roll freely about her plate. She looked up at him, startled, as he drew her hand close to his heart. Fixing her with what he hoped was a reassuring smile, Rupert spoke earnestly.

“Everything I know about you, Alice Sharpe, speaks of your intelligence, warmth, and kindness. You are quick-witted and a true pleasure to be near. I value our friendship, though it is early days yet. I am most grateful to have your help with my work, and I cannot imagine how anyone could see you as anything less than a lady of quality.”

Her lips parted, and her eyebrows raised high, but no word escaped her. Not for a long moment, as she seemed to evaluate his words and the truth behind them. At last she smiled, her expression softening in a way that made him want to draw closer, though he resisted the urge.

“Thank you, Rupert. That is one of the kindest things anyone has ever said to me.”

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before lowering it, ignoring the desire to pull her into a most improper embrace. He had only just gained her trust and friendship. He would not lose it merely to give way to his impulses.

He had never met a woman like her. And he very much wanted to know more, know everything, about Alice.

But she had a position to protect, and he would not do anything to alarm her.

He needed to take things slow.

With great reluctance, he began to clear away their picnic and turned the conversation back to flowers and bees.

Alice floated back into the house, up the servants’ stairs, and to her room. Once there, she closed the door behind her and leaned heavily against it. Never in her life had someone paid such pointed attention to her. Not once in her memory had a man looked upon her as though she were more than a curiosity.

Her family had hinted that she held attraction for the opposite sex, and they had even deemed her a danger to her own daughters due to that fact. But Alice had thought them wrong, or else mistaken in their assessment of her looks.

For the first time, in Rupert Gardiner’s company, she had felt beautiful.

Alice went to her desk as she removed her gloves, humming to herself, when she saw a slip of paper that had not been there before. Frowning, she lifted it and turned it over to reveal a note.

The Duke and Duchess have decided to allow the children to perform this evening, with instruments and recitations. Before they take dinner with their guests, at five o’clock sharp. You are to prepare the duke’s children. - F.

With less than two hours to prepare herself and her charges, Alice leaped into movement. She took off her peach dress and pulled on the dark blue gown still laying across her bed from when Lady Isabelle had discarded it. She did up the front buttons, grateful for the practical gown, but she had no time to fix her hair.

She flew out of her room in search of the girls and Lord James. She had to ensure their appropriate dress for the evening and help them choose either a piece to play or a poem to recite that would gratify their parents’ guests.

If only she’d had more notice. If only they had more time to prepare.

Would a poor showing of the children mean a reprimand for her?

She started with Lord James, certain he would be the most difficult of the three to prepare. She knocked upon his door in the children’s part of the hall, and it opened to reveal him and several of the other boys playing at soldiers on the floor of his room.

“Lord James, you must dress for dinner this evening. There is—”

“A performance,” he said, interrupting her. His wide