“Don’t let it dishearten you,” Lord Farendale said. “Men are like that. They cling to what they think is theirs. Once you’re married, you’ll be his, and once you’ve an heir or two, he’ll forget all about his niece.”
Maggie’s stomach twisted.How dare they? How dare they speak of Emma as a problem to be solved?
“I cannot tell if he likes me or not,” Lady Constance continued. “He’s impossible to read.”
“Of course he likes you,” her father soothed. “You’re lovely and well-bred, and you’ve Lady Westbrook’s backing. He respects her like a mother. Be patient, my dear. Big fish don’t bite quickly. Dote on the child for now—when you’re Duchess, you can send her wherever you please.”
Maggie could almost imagine the smile spreading across Lady Constance’s face. She could hear it in her voice, too, when she spoke.
“I shall send her to the most dreadful school I can find,” Lady Constance said, venom in her tone. “And the governess—oh, I’ll be rid of her the moment I’m wed. Insolent creature, thinking herself superior to me.”
“When you’re Duchess,” Lord Farendale said complacently, “you may dismiss whomever you like.”
“I’ll see she never finds another position,” Lady Constance muttered. “A bad reference travels faster than any good one. That should cure her of her airs.”
Maggie stood rooted, her pulse roaring in her ears. Then, fearing discovery, she turned and hurried downhill after the footmen.
So that’s it,she thought bitterly.He’ll marry her. Emma will be sent away and forgotten. And I—she swallowed hard—I’ll have nowhere left to go.
Swallowing down a tide of misery and fear, Maggie quickened her pace, suddenly keen to get home.
***
“There you are, Maggie. You were missed at dinner.”
Maggie flinched, turning around. Night had fallen when nobody was looking, a blanket of blue-black sky and glittering stars. Cold air and a stiff breeze had come along with it. One could almost taste the rain in the air. There would be no picnic tomorrow, that much was sure.
Maggie stared at Neil, standing silhouetted in the doorway, poised to step out onto the terrace after her.
“Your Grace—Mrs Thornton said I could take the air out here,” Maggie found herself saying. “I thought you were all at dinner.”
“We were,” Neil responded, his smile wavering a little. “You didn’t join us.”
Was he mocking her? Maggie blinked, swallowing.
“Of course not, your Grace. Miss Emma is asleep, and I am her governess. Why would I dine at your table?”
He blinked, a little taken aback. “No—of course. Forgive me. I only meant to be courteous. I saw Emma; she’s sleeping soundly. Jenny says she’ll be well by morning. I didn’t see you, though.”
Maggie had borrowed a shawl from Jenny and kept it wrapped around her shoulders. She and Jenny were going to take turns sitting up all night beside Emma’s bed, just to be sure. It would be a long night.
There had been no time for a proper bath; she had only managed a hurried wash, drying her cold, clammy skin before changing into clean, dry clothes. There was still a little dampness in her hair, although she was not sure whether that had come from. Had she been splashed while pulling Emma out of the water? Perhaps.
“I’m quite well, thank you,” she managed.
Lady Constance’s words flickered through her mind again. She had thought, more than once, of telling him what she’d overheard—but what good would that do? Why should he believe a governess over a lady? Lord and Lady Farendale would deny it, their daughter too. It would be three against one.
“That’s good,” Neil said quietly, stepping forward. He joined her at the balustrade, looking out over the darkened gardens. For a time, neither of them spoke.
Maggie stole a glance upward, wondering whether his thoughts tangled as hopelessly as hers.
Does he think of me?
No,she told herself.Don’t be foolish.She was his niece’s governess, nothing more. He cared for her only because she cared for Emma.
Still—
She closed her eyes and let herself imagine, for just a heartbeat, what it might feel like to trust him.
