Give her a chance. You do not even know anything about her yet.
“Tell me about your approach to caregiving,” Harriet prompted, hoping to understand what exactly was causing her hesitation.
Mrs. Linton smiled warmly. “I believe in providing a nurturing environment where the child feels loved and secure. I ensure their physical needs are met with proper nutrition and hygiene, and I spend time engaging with them to stimulate their minds and senses.”
Harriet listened, but her mind drifted back to the times she had spent with Catherine. The baby had become a part of her daily life, and Harriet had come to cherish those quiet moments together.
It seemed…wrongalmost to hand over her care to another person.
“Something wrong, Your Grace?” Mrs. Linton finally asked, likely unsettled by the silence. It brought Harriet back to reality, who quickly shook her head.
“Ah..” her face folded into a frown. “It’s nothing.”
“Do my credentials not appease you, Your Grace?” Mrs. Linton asked, though Harriet had not expected her to be so blunt.
“It is not that,” Harriet tried to reason. “It is just that this is a big decision to make. I thank you for taking the time out to come here, of course. But I shall be in contact with you once a decision has been made.”
A look of confusion crossed the woman’s face. It seemed apparent to Harriet that she was not used to be being contemplated about. She carefully folded her arms in her lap.
“I see. I shall wait for your word then, Your Grace,” she nodded.
Harriet was about to dismiss her, before Mrs Linton spoke again — perhaps not willing to let go of the chance to work at their estate so easily.
“Your Grace, if you do not mind, perhaps I could meet the baby? In that way, you may be able to assess my style of caregiving,” Mrs. Linton pitched confidently.
Harriet gave a weary shrug. “Ah, little Catherine would be asleep right now. It is not fair for us to disturb her like this.”
The disappointment was blatant across the woman’s face, but Harriet quickly excused herself, and left the drawing room. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest, and she raced to Catherine’s nursery.
She could only take a breath of rest when she saw that Catherine was still there, sleeping in the cot.
Where else would she have been?
Her anxious thoughts about the baby seemed to be multiplying by the day. But now, as she stood over her, all her nerves seemed to alleviate themselves and a smile formed naturally.
So delicate. So sweet.
It would be a tragedy if someone other than herself were to take care of her. What if they did not do a good enough job? Harriet could not stand to see it happen.
Harriet did not know what was going on with her — truthfully, she had never experienced such an intensely protective feeling before. But she knew that she would benefit by sharing her feelings.
So when Simon returned to the estate that evening, Harriet found herself pacing outside his study until she finally summoned the courage to knock on the door.
“Come in,” Simon called from inside.
Harriet entered the room, noting the stacks of papers and ledgers on his desk. Simon looked up from his work, a curious expression on his face. “Oh, it is you.”
He seemed surprised but not upset.
“I thought I should come speak to you now that you have returned home.”
He pushed back some of the papers, and turned his full attention towards her. “How did the meeting with the nursemaid go?”
Harriet hesitated, unsure of how to articulate her feelings. “Mrs Linton is very polite and seems quite experienced,” she began, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. “But...”
“But?” Simon’s eyebrow shot up.
Harriet took a deep breath. “I’m not sure why, but I don’t want to hire her.”
