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There was no smile on Miss Trean’s face and certainly no eagerness in her voice. She sounded dull and a little frustrated, as though irritated that he now wished to walk with them. Patrick, bemused as to why he had said such a thing, had no other choice but to fall into step with her, all too aware that Henry had not said a single word since he had approached. In fact, the child was now clinging to Miss Trean’s hand while continuing to hide his face in her skirts.
Patrick grimaced.
“He should not be clinging to you in such a fashion.”
Miss Trean shot him a hard look.
“I believe thatIam the governess, Lord Addenbrook.”
Such temerity astonished him, and Patrick was robbed of speech for a few moments whilst Miss Trean simply continued to walk on, entirely unabashed.
“All the same, Miss Trean, I do believe that I might have some suggestions which could be of use to you.”
Miss Trean did not even look at him this time.
“That may be a consideration of yours, my Lord, but it does not mean that I shall have the time to either listen or implement them.” Her voice was calm and steady, and yet the way she spoke stole the very breath from his body. No servant, no hired help, hadeverspoken to him in such a fashion and yet Miss Trean appeared to think nothing of it. Patrick did not know what to say nor how to respond. There was only the veil of astonishment hiding his other emotions from him as he swallowed against the tightness in his throat, trying his best to find a way to answer her. “After all, Lord Addenbrook, before I arrived, I believe that you had many opportunities to attempt your… suggestions on how best to deal with a child such as Henry, did you not?” Her gaze swung towards his, one eyebrow lifting gently. “Did you have much success?”
I did not want to even see the child.
Patrick’s breathing grew quicker as he fought to find a response.
“I did not have an opportunity.” It was a lie and, from the way that Miss Trean’s lip curled, Patrick could tell precisely what she thought of his response. “I am sure that Henry need not be such a dependent, stubborn child. You are his governess, Miss Trean. It is up to you to make certain that he does not remain so.”
The way his voice rose sent Miss Trean’s eyebrows higher up towards her hairline and Patrick allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. He had managed to turn the conversation around.
“I hardly think that a four-year-old child needs to be told to stand on his own two feet, Lord Addenbrook, particularly when he has been sent into a new situation and told that his uncle does not want to see hide nor hair of him.” The caustic tone burned through Patrick’s skin and seared his heart with guilt. A guilt which he had never felt before, nor wanted to feel. “The boy needs nothing but love, compassion, and understanding and that is what I am offering him at present.”
They had made their way to the door of the house and, with a broad, bright smile which told Patrick just how relieved she was to escape him, Miss Trean bid him farewell and then ushered Henry inside.
When Patrick walked into the house, he could hear Henry’s giggles echoing down the staircase towards him. In the few seconds, it had taken for the child to be away from Patrick and again only with Miss Trean, he had changed from a quiet, clingy child into one who laughed with abandon.
I made it quite clear that I wanted nothing to do with the child.
Patrick dropped his head and ran one hand over his eyes. Why did he feel such a pinch of guilt now? He ought to be angry – furious, even – that Miss Trean had said such things to him and spoken with such forthrightness when she ought, instead, to have said very little and lowered her head, given her position.
He waited for that anger to surface, for the fire to begin to grow, but nothing came. Instead, the stab of shame that had pricked his heart seemed to grow in intensity. His shoulders rounded and he closed his eyes tight shut, willing the sensation to fade away.
But instead, it remained precisely where it was, choosing to make a permanent home in the depths of his heart and refusing to leave, no matter how much he begged it.
Chapter Four
“You should not have spoken to the Marquess that way.” Albina looked back at her reflection in the small mirror which hung on the wall and frowned, her sea-blue eyes hard. “He will not think well of you for speaking in such a blunt manner.”
Sighing, she put down her brush and attempted to smooth her hair back into a chignon. It had taken a bit of practice – a good deal of practice, in fact – but she now managed to do it without too much difficulty. Another long breath escaped her as she gazed at her reflection. She was nothing like her former self now.
The dreary grey day dress hung a little limply on her frame. There was no lace nor decoration on it now, for such a thing would be improper for a governess. There were no pearls around her throat, no diamonds glistening near her ears. Her hair was simple and unadorned.
The only beauty I have now is my eyes.Albina’s shoulders sagged.And even they look dull.If she were honest with herself, if she dared to speak it aloud just to herself, Albina would admit that she missed her home. She missed the comforts which had been a part of her life since the day she was born. She missed her mother desperately, praying that the simple note Albina had left on her bed had been discovered, read, and kept safe by her mother. Tears pricked the corners of Albina’s eyes as she remembered penning that note. It had told her mother the truth and had sworn to her that she would return home if there came any trouble or difficulty. If she closed her eyes, Albina could see her mother in her mind’s eye, imagining her reading the note and then closing her eyes as tears ran down her cheeks. No doubt her father, however, would be quite the opposite. Already frustrated with her impertinence and stubbornness, he would have reacted with nothing short of anger. If she ever had cause to return home, Albina was uncertain as to the kind of welcome she would receive.
“I cannot leave now,” she told herself, turning away from the mirror and smoothing her hands down her dress, making certain that she was prepared for the day. “Henry needs me.”
A small smile chased away her melancholy. Despite all that she had been forced to endure thus far, despite the difficulties that had plagued her, the fears that burned in her mind, and the struggles that had bound her heart, Albina had found Henry to be a delightful young boy who simply needed her affection and her company. It had been just as Mrs. Stanley had said and for that, Albina was more than grateful.
These last few days, Albina had spent almost every waking moment with Henry. The child practically clung to her each and every morning, as if he had spent the night afraid that she would not be there come the morning. For a four-year-old, he was rather talkative - although as yet, he had not said a single word about either his mother or father and Albina had chosen not to ask. She had not even entered the schoolroom with Henry as yet, but had spent her time with him in the nursery or being out of doors in the garden – and Henry had blossomed. The screaming and kicking she had witnessed on her first evening had not repeated itself, and Henry had only asked to be held close each night before he went to sleep. Other times, he took her hand or found other ways to stay close to her, and Albina’s heart could not help but soften towards him. Having had no experience of small children, it had not taken her long to realize that all Henry required of her was to listen, to laugh, to sing, and to smile – and whenever he smiled back at her, a little bit of her heart was stolen away.
Which was why it confused her all the more that Lord Addenbrook had not shown the smallest flicker of interest in his own flesh and blood.
A small scuffling sound made Albina’s heart slam hard against her chest and she caught her breath. Turning around sharply, she looked out across the room but saw nothing. Her hand pressed against her heart, willing it to settle. She did not want to think of rats but, most likely, that was the reason for such a noise.
