Page 8 of The Good Fortune of Miss Robbins

“But you wish you did.”

“Yes, of course, but I’d make myself very unhappy if I dwelt upon such things.”

For a few moments he said nothing, then, “What is your age?”

“Five-and-twenty.”

“You are young to be so wise, but I suppose your wisdom is due to your hardships in life.”

I opened my mouth but wasn’t sure what to say.

“It is our misfortunes that either make us wise or make us evil, but I shall not oppress you . . .” He drew in a quick, audible breath and then let it out slowly. “Have you met your charges, Samuel and Annabelle?”

“Only just. They are very bright, sweet children. You must be so proud of them.”

“Yes, well, I trust they are in good hands with you, Miss Robbins.” He almost mumbled the words, his voice much quieter than before.

Again he let the silence stretch out. He rubbed his jaw and cleared his throat. “These spring evenings are still quite cold. You will catch a chill. Go, now.”

Even though his words sounded like a command, there was something so forlorn about him, this earl who was also very much a man, and I had no experience with either.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” I suddenly couldn’t bear to leave him alone. “I think you should come inside as well.”

Would he be angry that I would say something so impertinent to him? Would he dismiss me before I’d even begun my duties as governess?

“Your name is Miss Robbins?”

Though it was quite dark now, I could feel his eyes boring into me.

“Charlotte Robbins of Mrs. Southey’s School.”

“I’m not quite ready to leave this roof, Miss Charlotte Robbins. You should go along and get your supper. It’s getting late.” He went back to staring out at the nighttime countryside. A peacock called out in the distance, a hoarse, mournful cry.

There was something about the tone of his voice and his manner, the way he leaned out over the edge, that gave me a sense of urgency.

“I should very much like to go and get my supper, as I’ve hardly eaten anything all day, but I’m afraid I don’t know how to get to either the kitchen or my room from here.” I allowed a light, amused note into my voice. “I was wandering around lost, which was how I came to be here.”

My plight would no doubt annoy him. A lord and master was not expected to show a servant how to get around, leading her about the house.

After a moment, he said, “I suppose I can’t have you fainting on the stairs.”

I’d expected to hear anger or sarcasm in his voice, but there was neither.

“Come.”

He was all business now as he passed right by me and started down the steep stairs.

I did my best to follow, but I got a bit dizzy after the first step. How embarrassing if I should swoon and fall on top of him! I took slow, deliberate steps, holding on to the rail and concentrating on breathing.

When I reached the landing, he was watching me. Without a word, he turned and led me down hallways and more stairs until we were at the kitchen. He went in and told the chef something, then left, glancing in my direction as he went.

The chef had one of the servants lead me into the servants’ dining hall, then bring me several courses of food. I felt as though I was eating like a queen, and I more than made up for the meals I’d missed earlier in the day.

When I was finished, a servant showed me the way to my room.

The next day was Saturday. Every week I was to have Saturday afternoon and the entirety of Sunday as my time off.

I spent the morning with Samuel and Annabelle, reading to them and asking them questions to see where they were in their studies, how much they knew of arithmetic, reading, and writing. They were obviously bright children. Samuel tried to pretend to know less than he did, while Annabelle was eager to please and thrived on words of approval. I loved them both already. It was impossible not to, as they were in my charge and as impressionable as wet clay. I so wanted to do my best for them, and I kept thinking how very much like me they were, hungry for love and attention.