She stared at him, but he kept his gaze on the weed in his hand.
“But—that would mean giving up your practice here and your work at the Manor.”
“The Manor Home is my father’s life’s work. Not mine. I merely stepped in while he was unable. I can leave it in his hands now. He and Thomas can manage the place—and Preston—quite nicely without me.”
“Have you told him yet—your father?”
“No, not yet. I wanted to speak with you first.”
She was not prepared to ask why. “You would really leave London?”
“Yes. I tire of city life. And, in truth, there are too many memories here—in this house and at the Manor both—and not all of them pleasant. I quite enjoyed my time in Kent. It is so peaceful and lovely there on the north downs. So much open land. So much green.” He lifted his face and smiled at her. “And, as you may recall, I was quite fond of its residents as well.”
She smiled briefly in return, but felt a surge of fear rising within her. Were Dr. Taylor and his daughter leaving her behind? Or was he assuming she would return to Doddington with them?
“Your father will not be pleased at my return. But should I allow the opinion of one man to keep me from something which, I believe, will bring much happiness?”
She assumed it a rhetorical question, but then saw he was studying her, waiting for her response. Waiting for her to answer the same question of herself.
“Charlotte?”
She studied her hands, tightly clutched in her lap.
“Charlotte. I will not take you back to Doddington as Anne’s governess.”
She looked up at him, oddly relieved. She had inwardly cringed at the thought of returning to her home village as a servant. Of facing the disdain of her former acquaintance—especially her father and sister. Though at least governess was one of the more respectable positions of service. No, easier to remain in anonymity in London. Perhaps with Sally and Thomas, or Sally’s sister.
Or she could return to Crawley, as she had once thought she might do.
“You will find another governess, once you are settled in Kent?”
“Yes. I will.”
“I understand.”
“No, I do not think you do. I would not take you back to Doddington as a governess. But I would take you there—as my wife.”
She stared at him, saw the grim determination on his face, and her heart pounded dully, a dozen different emotions flooding her mind.
“Here it is!” Anne sang, running back to them and plopping back down. “Now I shall pour you some tea.”
As she did so, Charlotte felt Daniel’s intense gaze on her profile.
“Will you, Charlotte?”
She looked up sharply from her thoughts. “Hmm?”
“Yes, Missy, will you have more tea?”
“Thank you.”
As Anne refilled her cup, Charlotte glanced at Daniel, tilting her head in his daughter’s direction, silently indicating that their conversation would have to wait.
That evening, after Charlotte had gotten Anne into her nightclothes and her teeth cleaned, Daniel came in as usual to tuck in his daughter and hear her prayers.
Charlotte silently hung the girl’s dress in the wardrobe and gathered up her soiled stockings. As she did, she heard, without meaning to, Anne’s sweet prayer:
“Thank you for Papa and Grandfather and Missy. And Constance too. Tell Mother not to be sad because we are all happy together. Amen.”
