He braced his long legs in an easy stance and crossed his arms over his chest. The pose did lovely things to his broad shoulders and muscular arms, something she should not be taking note of.
“You are an exceedingly capable woman, Miss Knight,” he said. “A talented governessandan expert on carriage repair.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’m rather good with horses, too.”
“Apparently, although I’m still not comfortable with the notion of you going out without a groom or one of my brothers to escort you.”
She adopted a horrified expression. “My lord, if your concern is my safety, then riding out with the twins might have the opposite effect.”
“True enough. They can barely get out of bed in the morning without creating mayhem. I still don’t like you riding alone, however. If anything happened to you . . . well, Sir Dominic would murder me.”
He’d gone back to looking worried, which she hated.
“Sir, my grandfather placed me on my first pony when I was two years old,” she said with a reassuring smile. “It’s not an exaggeration to say that I grew up around horses. In fact, they were my first friends.”
Her only friends, really, since she was the oldest of the grandchildren by several years. The stablemen and yard hands had always been kind to her, in their gruff way, but Victoria’s aunts had frowned on forming friendships with the help.
“You must have had quite an unusual upbringing,” he said.
“I suppose,” she hedged. She usually avoided talking about her childhood. In addition to the embarrassment of her parentage, growing up in a coaching inn wasn’t the sort of background one usually looked for in a governess.
“I won’t hold it against you,” he said matter-of-factly. “One should never look down on honest work, no matter how humble it might be.”
In her experience, noblemen rarely took such a high-minded position, but Arnprior certainly looked and sounded sincere. She supposed there was no real harm in providing some limited detail.
“I grew up in a coaching inn,” she said. “My grandfather owned two of them, just outside Brighton. My uncles and aunts helped to run them.”
His expressive eyebrows went up again. “No wonder you’re so good with horses.”
“If you’re ever short-handed in the stables, I’d be happy to help out,” she joked.
Victoria couldn’t help feeling awkward. Her family was prosperous, but their background was humble. Schoolmates at Miss Kirby’s Seminary for Young Ladies had often teased her, suggesting a career as a groom rather than a governess. One particularly nasty girl, whose father was a successful haberdasher, used to sniff loudly and claim that their dormitory room smelled like a stable.
But growing up with a mother whose conduct had invited all manner of ribald remarks had taught Victoria—rather painfully—not to react to such insults, or even slights about her parentage. She’d earned a great deal of respect from her teachers for her restraint, though she’d raged inside, often dampening her pillow with silent tears at night. It had all seemed so unfair. Her father would one day be king of England, but the blue blood that ran through her veins meant nothing. All that had mattered was the sin her mother had committed in bringing Victoria into the world.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Arnprior said with a mocking little bow.
She felt her shoulders inch up around her ears. “Well, if that’s all, my lord, I must—”
He put a hand out. “Do you think your background bothers me? Because it doesn’t. I was only jesting.”
“Oh, I . . . thank you.” She gave him a tentative smile.
“I’m a soldier, Miss Knight,” he said. “And a glorified farmer, truth be told. I would be a fool to look down on anyone who makes a living through hard work or the use of her hands. In fact, I’d like to know more about your life. How did you go from coaching inn to governess, for instance.”
She hesitated. “It’s all rather boring, actually.”
He took her by the elbow and steered her in the direction of the kitchen gardens. “You’re not the least bit boring, Miss Knight. Besides, I like to know as much as I can about the people who work for me.”
While that made perfect sense, it was awkward, given several rather pertinent secrets in her past.
As if sensing her reluctance, he glanced down at her with a reassuring smile. “It’s not an interrogation, I promise. I’m more than satisfied with your performance. In fact, I’d also like to speak with you about Kade. About how you think he’s progressing.”
“Of course, sir. I should be happy to update you.”
As she snuck a sideways peek at his rugged profile, it occurred to her that she wouldn’t mind spending some time with him. In truth, she was a little lonely. Most of her day was spent with Kade, which was lovely, but she longed for adult conversation. At dinner, she usually found herself seated between the twins—who while good-natured could hardly be deemed intellectual—or next to Royal, who barely spoke a word. As for Angus, the less said, the better.
She was now fairly certain that Arnprior had been avoiding her since that night they waltzed. She shouldn’t be bothered by that fact, but honesty compelled her to admit she was.
