“A happy surprise, I hope?”
The truthful answer wasno, but honesty would be brutal.
“A surprise,” he repeated firmly. “I love my aunt dearly, and she means well. But at times, she does not quite understand what I wish for myself. It leads to unfortunate misunderstandings. I’m sure you know how that can be.”
She clearly didnotunderstand. Her face brightened.
“Oh, perfectly! My parents are the same. Mama wished me to marry a thin, bespectacled little second son of an earl—kind enough, but hardly suitable. Papa and I could not make her see reason. She was most vexed when we left London.”
Neil could feel his heart sinking into his stomach.
Oh, dear.
“Quite,” he managed. “Lady Constance, I wonder—”
At that moment, something shot out of the shrubbery and collided with Lady Constance’s leg. There was a rip of fabric and a startled scream.
Not asomething. Asomeone.
Emma.
The little girl went sprawling onto the gravel. She blinked, stunned, then screwed up her face and began to wail.
“Emma!” Neil dropped to his knees beside her.
“My gown!” Lady Constance gasped. “It’s torn—oh, and it was new! The sequins—”
Emma sat up, cradling her hand. Blood welled where a sharp stone had scraped her palm.
Neil looked up at Lady Constance. Their eyes met briefly; remorse flickered across her face.
“Oh, the poor child—I did not mean to push her. It was only reflex—”
“It was an accident, of course,” Neil said flatly, turning back to Emma.
Footsteps pounded through the greenery. He knew who it would be even before she appeared.
Maggie burst into view, her hair coming loose, eyes wide with alarm.
“Oh, you poor thing! She was chasing a butterfly, and I could not catch her—oh, Miss Emma, what have you done?”
“I hurt my hand,” Emma sniffled, holding out the injured palm.
Maggie dropped gracefully to her knees, inspecting the injury. She picked out a few stray bits of gravel, flicking them aside, and withdrew a handkerchief.
“I shall take her inside to have it properly cleaned and bandaged,” she said to Neil, her eyes focused on her task. “For now, though, this will keep it from further harm.”
“When you are finished with that,” Lady Constance said sharply, “you may help me recover the sequins from my gown.”
Her tone was sweet; her meaning was not.
Maggie looked up briefly, astonished, then to Neil. Whatever he was thinking must have shown on his face, for her mouth twitched, half-amused, half-defiant.
“I am a governess, my lady,” she replied coolly. “My first duty is to Miss Emma. I’m sure Mrs Thornton can send someone to collect your sequins.”
Lady Constance’s head jerked, and her eyes bulged. “I beg your pardon? Your Grace, did you hear how insolently she spoke to me?”
“You must forgive Miss Winter,” Neil said mildly. He could not tear his eyes from Maggie’s bent head, from the gleam of hair falling forward as she tied the handkerchief. “She is notoriously impudent, but also the finest governess I have ever hired.”
