Mr. Gardiner and the Governess - Sally Britton Page 0,68

your affection is so new, a fledgling thing barely ready for flight, you must treat it gently. You owe it to yourself and the young lady to see how far you might go.” She narrowed her eyes. “How does she feel about your insects?”

The first time they met, she captured a butterfly from his shoulder. She spoke of spiders and butterflies and bees all with the same respect and curiosity. She rescued frogs from castles and loosed them into ponds.

“She understands them,” Rupert said, a touch of awe in his tone. “And, I think, she understands me.”

In short order, Rupert climbed into the family carriage with Billings and a trunk full of his things. His parents stood on the steps, along with a bewildered Mr. Lee, waving Rupert away to good fortune.

The worry that had settled in his chest lessened.

Returning to the castle, returning to Alice, was the right choice.

Chapter 22

“Miss Sharpe?”

Alice looked up from the sketchbook in her lap to find Lord Farleigh coming through the willow tree.

Her heart fell. She had hoped Rupert called to her, though she knew at once the voice was wrong. Rupert’s voice was deeper than the young earl’s.

Lady Isabelle and Lady Rosalind sat upon the bench on either side of her, both sketching the scene before them as she did. They were at the sunken pool. Lord James lay in the grass nearby, chin in hand, reading a book about the Spanish Armada.

“My lord.” She rose to offer a proper greeting, but he waved a hand to dismiss that notion. Alice sank back onto the bench.

Lord Farleigh had said little to her upon their initial meeting the morning before. Though he had apologized for the behavior of his guest and assured her Mr. Briant’s welcome had ended.

The heir to the dukedom was in appearance much like his father, almost regal in appearance, though some might find his nose a little too long for the usual standards of attractiveness.

“I have come with guests.” He gestured behind him as several giggling children followed from beneath the willow tree. “Lord Addington has arrived.” Miss Finchley, the baron’s daughter, appeared at the rear of the party, her usual sour expression replaced by a simpering mein.

“Ah. Miss Finchley.” Alice hastily repeated her attempt at a curtsy, completing it this time. A baron’s daughter would think it her due for the governess to pay such respect.

Miss Finchley’s younger siblings, two boys and a girl, along with Geoffrey, were immediately greeted with pleasure.

“We were in the neighborhood,” Miss Finchley said, swaying her hips more than strictly necessary as she came to stand next to Lord Farleigh. “My father simply had to stop to speak to His Grace.”

Given that the baron’s family had attended a house party little more than a week previous, the timing of an unexpected visit likely had more to do with the news the heir had returned. The tight smile Lord Farleigh wore bore further testament to Alice’s reasoning.

“Unfortunately, our governess was unwell.” Miss Finchley affected a pretty pout. “Crowded carriages do not agree with her.”

It had taken the baron’s governess half a day to recover from their previous visit.

“Oh, the poor dear.” Alice adjusted her spectacles, sliding them further up the bridge of her nose. “I completely understand, and I am happy to mind the children until she feels well again.”

Lord Farleigh’s relieved smile spoke more of his character than he likely knew. That an earl, son of one of the most powerful men in the kingdom, concerned himself over a governess gave her great hope for the future of the duke’s title. How had a family of such prestige remained humble amid the vanity of the noble class?

Miss Finchley cooed and looped her arm more tightly through his lordship’s. “Wonderful. Now, my lord, you must show me the portrait gallery as you promised.”

As they withdrew, Alice had to admire Miss Finchley’s ambition. Most would deem the daughter of a baron beneath the interest of an earl, particularly one set to inherit a dukedom. With a shrug, Alice turned her attention to the children under her care. “Why don’t we play a game?” she proposed.

With great enthusiasm, the children proposed hide-and-seek.

Alice had to laugh while she shook her head. “Oh, given the size of the gardens and castle, I am not certain that’s a good idea. I know I might well become lost before anyone might find me. Why not blind man’s bluff?”

“What shall we use for a blindfold?” Geoffrey asked.

Alice loosened the fichu she wore,