“Yes, Your Grace. His Grace believes that education is the priority for a young lady of her station,” Sophia answered, her tone polite but challenging.
“And yet she is but ten years old,” Aurelia countered, refusing to back down. Beside her, Lottie lowered her head, her little shoulders now stiff. “Surely there must be room for a morning in the sun. For a laugh. For the simple delight of play.”
Sophia let out an exasperated sigh. “It is not my place to disagree with His Grace.”
“Nor is it mine,” Aurelia said gently. “But I am her mother now,” she added with a gentle smile.
Lottie immediately looked up with a frozen expression, before a tiny smile curved her lips.
“And as her mother, I say that today she shall play. If the duke is displeased, then let him be displeased with me.”
Sophia pressed her lips together, caught between duty and understanding, her gray eyes flickering between the little girl and her mistress.
“Your Grace, you are kind,” she tried. “But?—”
“Join us,” Aurelia cut in softly, extending a hand.
“Wh—What? I dare not…” Sophia’s breath hitched, her mouth hanging open.
“Why not?” Aurelia’s smile turned coaxing. “It will be just for a little while. You need not tell him how we spent the morning.”
The hesitation on the governess’s face was obvious. But Aurelia noticed how the woman’s face softened when she looked at Lottie’s near-pleading expression.
“Very well,” she sighed. “But only for a short while,” she warned, throwing a wink to the little girl.
Soon, they found themselves engrossed in a game of chase around the colorful scenery.
Aurelia tapped Lottie’s shoulder before whispering, “Run.”
The girl squealed with laughter, a sound so rare it even startled her, and then sped away, seeking a hiding spot between the hedges. Meanwhile, Aurelia chased after her, her skirts gathered in her hands. As for Sophia, she shook her head with a smile as she watched Lottie.
The game of hide and seek made the hours pass by unnoticed. Their laughter echoed through the garden, and soon the sense of duty had evaporated into thin air.
Aurelia hid behind a statue of some long-forgotten ancestor. She refrained from giggling too loudly as Lottie’s cautious footsteps drew nearer.
“I know you are here,” the little girl sang.
Unable to hold herself any longer, a chuckle slipped past her lips.
Lottie found her before they dissolved into a fit of giggles. Sophia, breathless but smiling, declared herself too old for such games, retreating at last to restore her composure.
When the bright day started fading to orange, announcing the coming sunset, Aurelia and Lottie lay side by side on the soft grass. It was only the two of them again. Their gazes were fixed on the vast sky, clothed in endless blue that was streaked with orange and pink hues, with only a few fluffy clouds to be seen.
“Look.” Aurelia’s murmur tenderly pierced the silence. “That cloud looks like a horse.” She pointed at it.
The little girl tilted her head and chuckled. “It looks more like a rabbit.”
“Perhaps it is a rabbit riding a horse,” Aurelia suggested, causing her to erupt into loud laughter.
Eventually, her mirth died down, fading into a thoughtful quiet that was emphasized by Lottie’s furrowed brow.
“Your Grace?” she asked, clasping her hands over her chest.
“Yes, dearest?”
Her voice turned small, that timid tone returning. “Papa…” She paused, and Aurelia gave her all the patience she needed. “Papa doesn’t laugh with me. Not like this.”
“No?” Aurelia asked, turning her head to study the girl’s expression.
