AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Henry narrowed his eyes with interest. He knew exactly what Agnes had meant, yet it seemed Florence was plotting something. He couldn’t be sure of what.
The confusion persisted while Agnes directed Florence, until her instructions became so muddled and confused that the girl had to come to a halt and collect herself. She wasn't sure what was going on.
To that, Florence offered her pupil a delicate laugh, and she corrected Agnes on what she had meant to say.
“Don’t fret, Agnes. You were correct the first time. I was only testing you. Good effort!” Florence declared with a grin, returning to her pose.
Henry wasn’t sure it was the most conventional way to teach Agnes another language, yet he recognized the possible real-life applications of such misinterpretations. Should Agnes ever need to give instructions in French, she would need to know how to recover from any possible mistakes as well. He had to give Miss Murray credit for her unique way of keeping her engaged.
“You tricked me!” Agnes exclaimed, laughing. Fortunately, Agnes was a good sport, and she never minded the odd, innocent ruse. She seemed to find Florence’s challenges great fun.
Florence, amused by the ordeal as well, dropped her pose at last and turned to face the young artist. “I must say, Agnes, your French has certainly improved—”
The governess fell silent and froze in her tracks the moment she noticed Henry. Her shoulders drooped and she blushed bright red, her face tense.
To his surprise, the sight of her dread caused him to feel a pang of guilt. He was certain that their tense interview had influenced her opinion of him. And, while he was hesitant to admit it, Henry was remorseful.
But he knew he needed to be critical of her at this stage, since his niece’s future was the most important thing, and he needed to be sure of Florence’s capabilities to teach the young lady beyond what she already knew.
When it came to Agnes and her quality of life, Henry never accepted anything less than perfect. She deserved the world, and Henry was steadfast in making sure that sentiment came to fruition.
Regardless, Henry didn’t take any pleasure in the way Florence seemed to avoid his gaze and limited what she was willing to say before him. He didn’t understand why her judgment of him mattered to him so greatly. Yet he found himself searching for any reason to mend the tension between them.
Agnes noticed the sudden pause in Florence’s praise, and she glanced over her shoulder, seeing Henry for the first time. Unlike Florence, Agnes lit up immediately, and she hurried to her feet.
“Uncle Henry!” the girl exclaimed with obvious relief, since he had been away all morning. Her smile was contagious, and Henry instantly felt more home.
“Good afternoon, Agnes,” Henry returned tenderly and clasped his hands behind his back, while taking a few steps closer to engage with them. He met Florence’s dejected eyes and nodded his head in her direction. “Florence.”
Florence cleared her throat and visibly collected herself as best as she could.
“My lord.”
An odd shiver ran down Henry’s spine at the sound of her voice, and he lost his words. Nothing came to mind all the while he gazed at her, feeling very aware of her aversion to him. Even through that mask of uncertainty, Florence was unaware of the beauty she possessed.
Agnes, brimming with excitement, took the sleeve of her uncle’s tailcoat in her hands and pulled him closer to the tree, successfully snapping him from his daze.
“Uncle, won’t you join us for a time? The weather is beautiful.”
Henry was apprehensive about the idea, since he had piles of work waiting for him inside his study. Yet, he felt compelled to agree just from one glance at Agnes’ hopeful face. He could hardly ever say no to her, which surely worked in her favor.
“All right, but only for a short while. I have much to do before the day is over,” he said.
Agnes truly was at the center of his life, and he never wanted it to be any other way. She was Henry’s lucky diamond and the last of his family who remained. His niece was the last of everything he had left in the world, and he meant to keep every promise he had ever made to her.
“Excellent! Uncle, come and look at my sketch of Florence!” Agnes exclaimed and continued to pull him closer to the tree until they reached the stool.
“Certainly. I have missed admiring your drawings,” he replied. He regained autonomy of his arm when Agnes released his coat, and watched in amusement as she picked up her sketch book.
Agnes shoved the book in his face. She grinned widely and awaited his critique.
“What do you think of it?”
Henry gazed at the drawing, scanning every line and shape. While he was Agnes’ biggest supporter, he was also her most honest critic. Just because she was his niece, it didn’t mean he went easy on her.
Henry hummed in thought. Truthfully, the sketch was fairly accurate. Agnes had captured the general shape of Florence, along with the finer details of her dress and hair. Yet there were some inaccuracies he detected upon glancing at Florence, who stood there, still looking apprehensive.
“Well? What do you think?” Agnes asked once more, and she watched as Henry sat on the stool with the drawing held carefully in his grasp.
