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The clothingwouldhelp her act the part. “Thank you, Lady India.”
It was all so seductive. The fine clothing... the handsome duke.
She mustn’t forget her true purpose in being here and become caught up in an impossible dream.
“Until my antiquities exhibition, then.” Lady India kissed her on the cheek. “I look forward to seeing the progress you make with the twins.”
Fern drew a silver hairbrush from the vanity.
That wasn’t her old hairbrush with the missing bristles. Had they gotten rid of it along with her dress?
“Such hair you have, miss.” She tugged the brush through Mari’s hair. “Such a rich auburn and it spirals so easily.”
“It certainly has a mind of its own. That’s why I always braid it so tightly.”
“A less severe style might look well on you.”
As Fern dressed her hair, Mari thought that perhaps she could become accustomed to the genteel life. It was certainly easier than struggling into one’s clothing and wrestling with one’s hair by oneself.
“There, miss. Come and see.” Fern gestured Mari toward the standing looking glass.
Her hair was drawn back in a simple knot and Fern had artfully drawn several spiraling curls to softly frame her face. The blue-and-white-striped gown matched her eyes and gave her cheeks a healthful bloom.
For the very first time in her life Mari felt almost elegant.
What an unusual sensation.
She’d always been told by the matrons of Underwood that she was the scrawniest and plainest of girls, with knobby knees and jutting elbows.
“You’ve worked quite a transformation, Fern.”
“Not I, miss. It’s all you... with a little help from Madame Clotilde.”
Mari was about to admit that she’d never worn such a modish gown, when she remembered the role she was playing.
She mustn’t thank the servants. Or make up her own bed. Or admit to being anything less than superior.
“That will be all, Fern,” she said briskly. “I’d best go to the nursery now.”
With one backward glance at her reflection, Mari left, half hoping she might run into the duke today.
Now that Mari looked the part of a superior governess, there was no one to impress.
She hadn’t seen the duke since the unfortunate incident in the library.
She was determined to be the very model of propriety at their next meeting. So prim, proper, and superior that he would question whether he’d fabricated the whole sordid episode in his mind. And he’d never even think to question her past again.
Her days were spent instructing the children. She’d composed a schedule of lessons and posted it on the wall of the nursery, so they knew what was expected of them every hour of the day. Their life had been so chaotic of late, that staying with a schedule was important for building their trust.
They’d been moderately well behaved, adhering to the schedule, taking an interest in their studies.
She made their lessons amusing and interesting, playing games to distract them. Today the children were sitting side by side, absorbed in readingCaptain Cook’s VoyagesRoundthe World.
She always watched for Banksford outside the nursery, wondering if he’d be back to monitor her progress, but he never came again.
He was avoiding her. Which was for the best.
The one week anniversary of her employment had come and gone without fanfare, which meant she was able to breathe a little more easily, though the duke would surely dismiss her if he knew she hadn’t been sent by Mrs. Trilby. Mari was here under false pretenses. One wrong word, one inquiry from Mrs. Trilby, and she could lose everything.
