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He had spoken to Edith while Millicent breakfasted, and the nursemaid had assured him that aside from the slight bruising, his daughter was unharmed. She’d said that his wife’s reaction to witnessing the event and Millie’s subsequent embarrassment were a bigger reason for Millicent’s tears than the caning itself.
Rhys decided not to dwell on the matter any longer. The governess was gone, and Rhys was not about to let Millicent out of his sight again.
He took a quick bath in his wife’s room, and after that, they ventured outside and spent the entire day running around the estate, slinging rocks, and playing hide and seek.
Millicent kept telling Rhys about the games Isabel had taught her and all the things they had done together. She couldn’t keep silent about how much she had bonded with the lady of the house, and Rhys couldn’t help but feel guilt toward the way he had treated his wife.
On the bright side, Millicent not once mentioned the old governess.
It was a good sign, wasn’t it?
Rhys didn’t want to be reminded about the foul old woman more than Millicent did. Perhaps less so.
Later on, Button was brought in with the carriage from the Thornsby estate. Rhys had left in the early morning on horseback, and he could not very well force his bear of a dog to keep up with the breakneck pace.
Millicent was extremely happy to have Button back, so they played with him in the field until the clouds stretched the sky, thunder rumbled above their heads, and raindrops started falling onto their heads. They needed to go back home, and Rhys needed to apologize to his wife.
He owed her more than a simple apology. Perhaps a grovel at her feet. She did not deserve his ire, and he would make sure to make her understand. He was so angry at himself. He felt so helpless and weak that that weakness had made him lash out.
He would never do that again. And if he did, she had his full permission to hit him over the head with any object by her hand.
He smiled, thinking how she would surely like to exercise that right. She had thrown a glove in his face once, and he imagined she would have loved it to be a piece of furniture.
They came upon the house, and Millicent looked at him queerly. “Why didn’t Lady Isabel come with us?”
Rhys cleared his throat.Because I yelled at her, frightened her, quite unjustly, might I add.“She had a very important appointment to keep. But I promise you, she wanted nothing more than to spend this time with you instead.”
“Will she always be with us?” Millicent asked cautiously.
Rhys looked at his daughter, trying to gauge her mood. “Do you want her to?”
Millie nodded. “Yes. I like her very much.”
Rhys’s heart filled with joy.I like her very much, too.
They entered the house, and Rhys instantly felt that something was wrong. It was colder than usual, darker. And it was not due to the storm brewing outside.
He looked at the butler. “Is Lady Isabel in her room?”
“No, my lord. She left a few hours ago.”
A few hours.His heart sank.
Millie looked at him, sensing the change in his mood, and Rhys forced out a smile. “I told you, she has business to attend to. But let us go and have some supper together.”
Her eyes lit up instantly.
Rhys dined with his daughter, exchanging stories and anecdotes as if nothing had happened. There was no sign of Millie’s trauma. Or perhaps it wasn’t as big of a trauma as Rhys made it out in his head.
Children were resilient. And one incident was not going to break Millie’s spirit.One more incident;his treacherous mind reminded him.
Rhys tucked Millicent into bed after dinner, and she looked at him with pleading eyes. “Will Lady Isabel come sing me a song?”
Rhys blinked. “You don’t want me to sing?”
“I want Lady Isabel. I like her song.”
“Lady Isabel is still not home, moppet,” Rhys croaked.
