Chapter Fourteen
Back at Ridlington, Harriet was enjoying her time alone.
It wasn’t that she didn’t adore Letitia—she did. But the chance to walk around the Chase without any duties to attend to was something of a little holiday for her, and she took full advantage.
Within a day or so she had begun to pop in and see if Lady Rosaline needed her for anything, and this request had turned into a brief morning chat over tea. Harriet’s experiences in London were of value when it came to some of the operations of Ridlington Chase, and she was able to offer advice on a few household matters.
Hugh, a baby who responded well to affectionate cuddling, was finding his needs admirably met by Harriet, who willingly settled with the warm bundle in her lap for an hour or so, while Mama answered letters, and dealt with other business.
Often they spoke of her brother.
“Paul tells me he’s looking at a hunting box a little distance from here,” said Rosaline about a week after the girls had left for London.
“Oh? That would be delightful, I’m sure,” answered Harriet. “For both of you, and for young Hugh here. He will have an uncle to play with, when his Papa is busy.”
Rosaline chuckled. “Quite so. Although I do believe my brother has yet to accept the fact of his being an uncle at all.”
“Family is everything,” murmured Harriet absently as she played with Hugh’s toes. His gurgle of delighted laughter made her smile.
“Yes, it is,” said Rosaline quietly, watching the two of them. “You will have your own, Harry. And you will be an excellent Mama.”
Harriet’s gaze shifted to Rosaline’s face. “I doubt it. I have no wish for it. Not under the present circumstances.”
“I understand,” nodded Rosaline. “But you are of age, my dear. Should you meet the man you wish to wed, nobody can prevent you from doing so.”
Harriet’s grin was wry. “I am a maid in the Ridlington household, my Lady. No matter how kindly you treat me, in the eyes of the world, I am no more than a servant. And I have to remain in that position until I reach twenty-five. Even then I know not how much of my inheritance will remain.”
“Your relatives can access it?” frowned Rosaline.
“I’m not sure if they can touch the principal. But I am afraid they will find a legal way to use the interest.”
“That is just appalling. Can we do anything?” Rosaline’s frown was a match to her husband’s in intensity. Without the eyebrows, of course.
“Thank you, my Lady. Truly. I am touched by your concern. But no, I cannot see a way to prevent anything they’re doing at the moment without revealing my own presence here. And that…” she hugged young Hugh, “I am not willing to do.”
He kicked his feet in happy bliss, and she laughed.
Rosaline smiled too, but with reservations. “I still don’t like it.”
“Don’t like what, my dear? My presence?” A new voice entered the conversation and Paul DeVoreaux walked around the door. “May I intrude?”
“Of course, Paul. Do come in.”
Harriet stood, prepared to hand over baby Hugh and leave brother and sister alone. But Paul had other ideas. “Please, Miss Harry. Sit. Hugh looks most comfortable where he is. And having heard him in moments of displeasure, I’d prefer he remain content.”
She chuckled. “Understood, sir.” Obediently, she returned to her seat and settled Hugh once more in her arms.
“We were just talking about Harry’s future, Paul,” said Rosaline.
“Oh heavens, my Lady,” protested Harriet. “I’m sure Mr. DeVoreaux has other more important matters to discuss.”
“Now you come to mention it, I don’t,” he said. “But I’m sure Miss Harry’s future plans will be successful, no matter what they might be.”
He smiled at her, and Harriet found herself slightly breathless. The warmth in his eyes touched something within her, although she wished it didn’t. He was not for one such as herself even though she found him delightful company.
“Well, I’m not sure about that, but I do appreciate the sentiment.” She considered the matter. “I could be a governess, I suppose...”
“And you don’t wish to do that?” Paul asked thoughtfully.
