“You need to understand this. When we reach my home, I’ll be keeping a close watch on you. If you do anything that threatens Emma or puts her in harm’s way, it’ll be a mistake you’ll remember for the rest of your life. You’ll pay for it, and once you have, you’ll be sent back to that orphanage of yours and never allowed to speak to my daughter again.
“I would never do anything to hurt Emma!” Miss Wetherby looked scandalized. “I don’t know how you can even suggest such a thing. I would rather die than cause harm to such a sweet soul.”
“I hope that’s true, but you must realize I don’t know you at all,” he said. “And I do not trust people I don’t know to care for my child. I never have, and I never will.”
She squared her shoulders. “You know,” she said, “I’m not really the person you should be worrying about when it comes to Emma’s well-being, and I’m sure you realize that. Someone has been very rough on her recently. I don’t think, even in your most suspicious heart, that you believe that person was me.”
Of course he didn’t. The idea of her physically harming Emma would have been laughable if the thought of someone hurting his daughter hadn’t made him want to punch things rather thanlaugh. He didn’t believe she had been responsible for whatever had happened to Emma. But that didn’t mean he was about to trust her with Emma’s well-being now. Letting her remain in Emma’s life for a little while was one thing, but it certainly wasn’t the same as outright trust. He couldn’t give her that.
“Just make sure you watch your step around her,” he said. “I would hate to have to send you back to the orphanage the moment we reach my home, if only because I can see how it would break my daughter’s heart.”
The truth was that he didn’t know quite why he was being this sharp with her. She hadn’t done anything to make him mistrust her. In fact, the way Emma clung to her should have been an encouraging sign, because it meant she had convinced Emma that she was a friend.
But children didn’t always have the best judgment about things.
He wanted Miss Wetherby to be a good and trustworthy person. But how could he trustanyonewith Emma after the way he had almost lost her? He never wanted to let her out of his sight again. Even allowing her to go off with a longtime friend like Norman had been almost unbearably difficult for him. Now he was expected to allow this woman he hardly knew to get close to her, and he hated the thought of it.
“You’d better get your things together,” he told her. “We’ll be leaving very shortly. And come downstairs if you want the chance to eat something before we get on the road.”
He let himself out of the room and hurried down the stairs to the dining area to join his daughter and Norman.
CHAPTER 8
“Here we are,” the duke said as the carriage turned toward a large estate. “Greystone Manor.”
It was aptly named, Bridget thought, staring up at the cold facade. The front of the building was entirely gray stone, and she wondered whether that had been done deliberately or if it was mere coincidence. The grounds were vast, extending beyond what she could see from where she sat. This place made her father’s estate look tiny and humble by comparison, and even the relatively large Desford Estate, where Prudence lived with her husband, was dwarfed.
The carriage pulled to a halt. The door was opened by a footman, who waited for the duke to disembark and then turned his attention to Bridget.
She allowed herself to be handed down, feeling a sense of the surreal. It had been a long time since she had been treated like a lady. Living and working at the orphanage meant forgoingthe life of the noble classes. She’d been happy to do it. Her work meant a great deal to her. But at the same time, there was something comforting about being back among this sort of scene. It felt like being cared for.
I can’t allow myself to fall for it, though, because I’m not being cared for. Not really. I’m surrounded by luxury and privilege, yes, but I am not a priority for the duke. It won’t be any different than it was when I was with my family. Nothing bad will happen to me, but no one here actually cares whatdoeshappen. I need to watch out for myself.
Emma was helped down out of the carriage last, and she hurried to Bridget’s side and embraced her, looking up at her with wide eyes.
“Welcome home,” Bridget said softly. “I’ll be here with you for a while. Will that be nice?”
Emma nodded slowly. Bridget had the feeling the girl wasn’t sure whether or not to trust what was happening. She kept her hand gently but firmly on Emma’s shoulder. If anyone tried to separate the two of them, she’d put a stop to it.
But the duke, for the moment, seemed to have no intention of separating them. He was watching the door to the manor, and after a moment, Bridget understood why. The door was opening, and a woman came hurrying out.
She could only be the duke’s sister. They looked so much alike. She was nearly as tall as he was, with the same dark hair andbright green eyes. She was an older version of Emma. And upon seeing her, Emma finally let go of Bridget’s hand and flung herself into the newcomer’s arms.
“Darling!” the woman exclaimed. “You’re home! I was so worried. When we heard you were at an orphanage, I thought I was going to faint from worry, but your father was out the door in a moment, and I knew he would bring you home safely. He would have moved heaven and earth to get you back here. Are you all right?” She held Emma at arm’s length and looked her up and down. “A little dirty, but not too much worse for wear. We’re going to make yourfavoritefoods for dinner, and your bed is waiting for you—I’ll bet you can’t wait to be back in your own room.”
“Don’t overwhelm her, Agnes,” the duke said.
Agnes released Emma. Emma didn’t exactly flee her aunt, but she did take a step closer to Bridget. She looked up at her, and Bridget rested her hand on Emma’s shoulder again. She sensed Emma had shocked herself by moving too quickly, and that she was now doubting her eager jump into her aunt’s arms. The best thing would be to reassure her that she still had Bridget as a place of safety.
Now Agnes registered Bridget’s presence. “Welcome,” she said. “I’m Agnes Langford.”
“Bridget Wetherby,” Bridget said.
“A pleasure to meet you.” Agnes turned to her brother. “You didn’t tell me that you were going to get married while you were out on the road, Reeves.”
Heat flooded Bridget’s face, even though she could see that Agnes was smiling and that it was obviously a joke.
“Of course I didn’t get married,” the duke said gruffly. “Miss Wetherby here is from the orphanage and has been caring for Emma. As you can see, they’ve… formed a bond. She insisted on coming back with me.”
