The Governess of Highland Hall (11 page)

“Go on then.” The corners of his mouth lifted in the slightest smile.

She bit her lip and hurried back toward the house. Had that actually been a look of acceptance, even approval in his eyes?

Lawrence stepped toward her as she approached the house. “The ladies are waiting for you in the great hall.”

For a moment she thought he might invite her through the front door, but he did not. She sighed. Some of the rules that separated her from the family seemed so senseless. “Please tell them I’ll be there directly.”

He nodded, stepped inside, and closed the door after him.

Julia glanced over her shoulder as she hurried around the corner of the house. Sir William stood on the path where she had left him. He appeared to be watching her, but his hat shaded his eyes, and she couldn’t be certain.

She had taken quite a risk in challenging him like that. But it had been worth it if the conversation prompted him to give the children more of his time and attention.

Every child needed to know he was loved by his father. And didn’t every father want to sense his children’s admiration and affection? It seemed the natural order of things. But for some reason, it wasn’t true for Sir William, Andrew, and Millie. Her heart ached as she considered all that was lacking in their family.

Oh how she longed to see things change for them.

William entered the great hall, his mind still on the conversation with Miss Foster. Were her concerns valid? Had his lack of involvement with his children put them at a disadvantage? He had given them a large, beautiful home and provided for all their physical needs. But in Miss Foster’s mind, that was not enough.

She had no idea the struggle he faced or why he kept his distance from the children. But he could never tell her that every time he saw them, their likeness to their mother slapped him in the face. And once again he saw himself as the man who was not enough to satisfy his young, impetuous wife.

It was bad enough that he wrestled with these painful memories. He must not let his negative feelings hurt his children. He might not show it in a way that pleased Miss Foster, but he loved Andrew and Millie, and he wanted them to have a happy childhood.

“William, I must speak to you.” Lady Gatewood strode toward him across the great hall. Katherine and Penelope stood together at the bottom of the stairway, their gazes following their aunt.

The muscles in his neck and shoulders tightened, but he forced his expression to remain neutral. “Lady Gatewood.” He nodded to her. “Good afternoon.”

“Shall we go in the library?”

Her question pulled him up short. Why did she always seem to forget this was his house? He should be the one to invite her into his library, not the other way around. But he forced that thought away and motioned toward the door. “After you.”

She swept into the library, her teal-blue dress swishing as she rounded the corner. Stationing herself in the center of the room, she turned and faced him. “Both girls will need a new wardrobe for their time in London. Of course, Katherine’s needs will be greater than Penelope’s, since this is her first season. But if we are going to work with the best dressmakers, we must get started right away.”

William stifled a groan. “I’m not sure that’s going to be possible.”

She pulled back. “Not possible? What do you mean? It’s your responsibility to see that they are properly dressed when they’re presented to society.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I am well aware of my responsibilities.”

“Katherine must have a fetching wardrobe to secure the attention of the right young men. She simply can’t take part in the season without the proper clothing.”

“Then perhaps she should not go to London this year.”

Lady Gatewood’s eyes widened. “Surely you jest.”

“Not at all. Your brother-in-law left the estate in a very difficult financial situation, and the death duties have made it much worse.”

“Oh dear.” She lowered herself onto the settee. “I knew Randolph did not give enough attention to managing his finances, but I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

“It’s been a disturbing discovery for me as well.”

“Surely there’s enough money to pay for Katherine’s needs for the season.”

“I’m looking into ways to increase our income to pay the duties, but I’m not certain I’ll be able to manage it.” He glanced away and steeled himself for her reaction. “I may have to sell Highland.”

Her face flushed as she rose to her feet. “But this house has been in the family for four generations!”

He focused on her again. “I will do everything I can to keep the estate intact, but in the end, I may not have a choice.”

Lady Gatewood strode across the room, dissatisfaction hovering around her like a dark cloud.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose where a headache had just begun. He hated the thought of selling the estate. But breaking it up and letting it go piece by piece would be even worse. Would he end up losing it all and having to return to London?

Lady Gatewood faced him again. Her expression eased, and a new light shone in her eyes. “What if you were to marry?”

He released a harsh laugh. “That’s impossible.”

“Not if she were a lady with wealth and position. Her fortune might secure Highland for you and future generations.”

“I have no intention of marrying again.”

“Why not? You’re still young, and it would give you a companion to share your life.”

He glared at her. “Marriage did not suit me.”

“I’m sorry to hear it.” But her words held little true sympathy, and her expression made it obvious that the gossip about his wife had spread from London to Berkshire.

Heat rose up his neck and burned through his face. “Finding a wife worthy of that role is impossible. The qualities of honesty, loyalty, and faithfulness are far too rare.” But as soon as the words left his mouth, a vision of Miss Foster rose in his mind.

Honesty and loyalty were apt descriptors for her. She seemed to be one of the few people in his life who was not afraid to tell him the truth. But what did that have to do with him? He could never become involved with a governess. It wasn’t done. The society gossips would have a heyday if he chose that route.

He closed his eyes and forced the thought of her away. No matter how tempting it might be to forget issues of class and wealth, it was not an option he could consider. He had been humiliated when word of his wife’s unfaithfulness spread throughout London, and he would not be scorned and ridiculed for marrying beneath him. That kind of misstep would make him and his children outsiders from society forever.

SEVEN

Lifting her skirt slightly with one hand, Julia carried the tray down the servants’ steps.

“Miss Foster, there’s no need for you to bring that tray all the way down to the kitchen.” Nelson watched her descend the stairs with a teasing smile. “Just ring for me next time. I’m always glad to help.” He took the tray from her hands.

“I don’t mind.” She looked past him down the hallway. The low curved ceiling, plain beige walls, and dim light were a stark contrast to the beautiful architecture and furnishings upstairs. “I came down to speak to Chef Lagarde.”

“He’s in the kitchen, but beware. I just heard him let loose a string of French you wouldn’t want to translate.” He winked and grinned, obviously hoping for a response.

She averted her eyes and stepped to the side.

He matched her movements and blocked her path. “Just let me know what you need.” He lowered his voice and leaned closer. “I’ll be more than happy to supply it.”

“No, thank you.” She stepped around him.
Cheeky man!
It was a good thing Ann usually brought their meals upstairs. Julia was glad she didn’t often have to deal with Nelson.

The scent of fresh baked apple tarts filled the air as she rounded the corner and entered the warm kitchen.

Chef Lagarde stood at the large table in the center of the room, hovering over Betsy, the petite, red-haired kitchen maid. “I said to chop
zee
onions, not mince them!” He grabbed the knife from her hand and whacked a second onion in half. “Like
ziss
!” Laying his hand over the top of the knife, keeping the point down, he swiftly chopped the onion into neat, square pieces. “There! That is how it is done.” He passed her the knife. “Now you do it.”

The kitchen maid bit her lip, looking uncertain.

“Go on!” He waved his hand. “I cannot stand and watch all day. I have to make
zee
dinner!”

“All right.” The girl grasped the knife, whacked the onion with surprising energy, and chopped it into a tidy pile, perfectly mimicking the chef’s actions.

Julia pressed her lips together to hide her smile.
Good for her!
It must take a great deal of courage to work with such a forceful, exacting man, let alone try to understand what he is saying with that strong French accent.

Chef Lagarde looked up. “Ah, Miss Foster, what brings you to my kitchen?”

“Thank you for the delicious luncheon. Master Andrew and I enjoyed it very much. But I’m afraid Miss Millicent is not feeling well today. Would you be able to provide some broth and toast for her instead?”

“Of course.” He issued brisk orders to another maid who stood at the sink, washing a large pot. She set it aside and hurried off to follow his instructions.

“So, how are things going with
zee
children?” The chef scooped a pile of chopped carrots into a large bowl along with the onions.

“I think we’re getting along very well.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “And Master Andrew? He is … yielding to your … instruction?”

Julia smiled. “He is energetic and has a strong will, but he is learning to tame those qualities. I’m sure they will serve him well, and he’ll make a fine master for Highland someday.”

“Ha! You are very clever I think.” He speared a chunk of celery with the end of his knife and scraped it off into the bowl.

Julia smiled. “I’m not sure about that. But I do enjoy teaching the children. It’s wonderful to watch them grab hold of a new concept or tackle a challenge and master a new skill.”

“And
zee
young ladies?”

Julia hesitated. Her sessions with Katherine and Penelope were not going as well, but she did not want to speak ill of them. “They’re coming along. I believe we are learning to understand and appreciate each other.”

“
Bien!
Those two have much to learn. They need a guide and teacher.”

Betsy looked up and grinned, her green eyes shining. She obviously agreed with the chef on that point.

The clatter of feet in the hallway drew everyone’s attention. Ann rushed past, covering her mouth and stifling a sob as she fled up the stairs.

Mrs. Emmitt followed and strode into the kitchen, her face red. “Miss Foster, come with me.”

“Of course.” She glanced at the chef.

He glared at the housekeeper and shook his head. “Go on. I will send up Miss Millicent’s tray when it is ready.”

“Thank you.” Julia followed Mrs. Emmitt to her parlor. Ann had obviously done something to upset Mrs. Emmitt and received a scolding. And now Julia would hear about it.

The housekeeper pulled the door closed and turned to Julia. “Did you see Ann run past?”

“Yes, she looked quite upset.”

“I saw her take the children’s laundry outside earlier. When she didn’t return in a reasonable amount of time, I decided to investigate.” She pursed her lips. “And it’s a good thing I did!”

“What did you find?”

“Sheets on the line, flapping in the breeze, and an empty laundry basket!”

Julia’s breath caught in her throat. “Where was Ann?”

“I searched the courtyard and garden and finally found her in the stables with that scoundrel of a groom, Peter.”

Julia’s heart sank. “Oh dear.”

“Thank goodness I got there when I did.”

“They weren’t …” Julia’s face flushed.

“No, but they were carrying on a very intimate conversation. I warned her when she was hired that Highland maids were not allowed to have followers or fraternize with the men on staff. I won’t stand for that kind of foolishness!”