Page 27 of The Wedding-Crashing Duchess

The introductions were lengthy. Mr. Fredrick, the butler. Mrs. Bell, the housekeeper. And then a line of servants. Did they really need this much staff to run a single estate?

Ronan introduced the senior servants and informed them that Augusta’s instructions were to be obeyed as his own. The declaration should have reassured her, yet the number of attentive faces made the responsibility feel immense. When the last curtsey had been made, Augusta released a slow breath.

“Was that truly necessary today?” she asked.

“You are their duchess, and introductions needed to be made. But the most important one remains pending,” he exhaled a sigh. “You need to meet my daughter Sarah.”

Augusta felt the nervousness bubble inside her and followed him. Ronan slowed before a white door at the end of the corridor, then turned to her.

“Before we go inside,” he said, “there are a few things you should know about Sarah, because she is not comfortable with strangers, and if she does not answer you at once, I do not want you to think that she is being rude.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind.” Augusta looked at the closed door and then back at him. “But I wonder whether your daughter is shy or whether you simply expect me to frighten her.”

“I expect her to be uncertain. She has known for only a short time that I intended to marry, and although her governess has tried to prepare her, she does not understand what your arrival will mean.”

“And what does my arrival mean?” Augusta asked. “Because you have told me that she needs a mother, but I doubt Sarah has been informed that a woman she has never met is coming to provide whatever affection you believe is missing from her life.”

Ronan’s hand tightened around the silver head of his cane. “I did not explain it to her in those terms.”

“I should hope not,” she sighed. “It would make the entire thing a little too impersonal.”

But at the same time, there was some truth to it. It wasn’t as though their connection, as it stood, was premised on the most personal and romantic considerations.

His brows drew together, “I expect you to make a good impression. This is the most important thing for me, do you understand that?”

Augusta considered his words again, “I will try, of course. But you must give me grace if I’m not able to meet your expectations.”

It was the honest answer, and the only one that she could give without over-promising.

“I do not expect you to walk into the room and become her mother today,” he said. “But you’ll have to be patient, of course. She has had very little practice speaking with people outside the household.”

“Is that the case?”

“If you mean to be her stepmother in more than name, you will need to try hard with her. It will take some time, and considerable effort for her to grow fond of you.”

“And you believe I am incapable of that?” she asked. “Is this your way of telling me you doubt me, Your Grace? Because if you have concerns about my character, I would rather hear them plainly.”

“I have concerns about a great many things, Augusta,” he sighed. “Whether you can hold a conversation with a six-year-old is not among them.”

“Then why give me the long warning?” she asked.

“Do you forget how we met? You made a lot of assumptions,” he said, observing her closely now. “Forgive me if I am cautious about how certain you might be that a shy little girl doesn’t like you, after five minutes in her company.”

They stood there a beat too long, the corridor silent but for the rain ticking faintly against a window somewhere above them. Augusta looked away first.

“I am good with children,” she said, quieter now. “Matilda will tell you I have raised her half as much as Charity has. I know how to be patient. I know how to wait until someone is ready to be known, instead of forcing myself upon them.”

“I hope that’s true.” Ronan’s voice had lost its edge.

He knocked twice on the door at the end of the hall, then opened it without waiting for an answer. Sarah sat very straight on the edge of her bed, hands folded in her lap, dark hair braided.

“Sarah.” Ronan’s voice gentled in a way Augusta hadn’t heard from him yet. “This is your new mother, Augusta.”

The girl’s eyes lifted, taking Augusta in from the hem of her traveling dress to the pearls at her throat, and then dropped again to her own folded hands.

“Good afternoon,” she said, very properly.

“Good afternoon, Sarah.” Augusta kept her voice soft, careful not to lean too far into the room, the way one might approach something small and easily startled.