“Miss Marston mentioned that to me last night.” He offered a crooked smile. “Except I believe she meant it…cruelly.”
Oh, really? Maybe that was another reason why his mood was so foul last night.
“Miss Marston…does not hold governesses in high regard.” Mrs. Fernsby was taking a risk, speaking ill of someone above her station—the richest family for miles around no less—but that fit with the straightforward woman I knew her to be. If she thought Henry were contemplating marrying Blanche, she would likely feel it her duty to warn him—even if that cost her the job she clearly loved.
“Well, Miss Marton’s opinion is worth less than nothing.” Henry tilted his head. “Would you be willing to stay on once Isabella is weaned and to become her governess? I am looking for someone who will be here for many years to come. Unless…”
Unless you fall in love again.
Mrs. Fernsby was almost thirty years old. Well past prime marrying age. Hers had been a love match. Would she ever find that again? I did not know.
“I would be honored, Lord Hartridge. I—” Her breath caught. “That would be my dearest wish.”
“Perfect.” Finally, he released the baby’s hand. “You may take her now.”
“I will do that. She enjoys her time with you.” Mrs. Fernsby scooped up Isabella and headed from the room.
Henry let out a weary sigh.
“Was that so difficult?”
“I had not known she was a governess. Blanche had been…vicious. Completely inappropriate. If I had any inkling of marrying her, that would have decided it for me. Mrs. Fernsby is completely dedicated to Isabella. She is the reason Isabella thrives. The woman’s future is my concern. I owe her.”
“And now she will be cared for. I daresay for the next eighteen years.” I grinned.
Henry rolled his eyes. Then sobered. “Will you assist me to rise? My leg is stiff.”
He should not have been on the floor, but I would never have said that to him. The joy of watching him with Isabella overrode my common sense. And had likely overridden his logic as well.
I braced him against the couch and then slowly helped him rise. I handed him the cane, on which he leaned heavily.
“That is…perhaps as much as I can do today.” Lines of pain etched his face. “Much sitting last night as well.”
Sittingproperlyfor hours at a dinner during which he was miserable.
“We shall take a turn around the house before you take to your bed.”
He scowled.
“You will be unable to move tomorrow if you do not loosen up before you rest. You know this.” I could give back as good as I got. We had discovered this—if he did a bit of walking after exertion then he was better able to cope with the pain.
Of course, I did not want to see him in pain at all. Given he had almost died, was that not enough to endure? Unfortunately, he had to persevere. Had to keep putting one foot before the other. For Isabella’s sake—as well as his own.
He groused, but allowed me to walk him around the exterior of the massive home. Well, partway. I allowed him to head inside once we’d gone from the front to the back.
“Quite a legacy.” I stood by him as he slowly climbed the stairs.
“The earl did an admirable job of growing the holdings under his watch. I am uncertain I will be so…aggressive.”
“Your father could be ruthless.”
“And yet he married my mother.”
We were at the top of the stairs. Slowly, aided heavily by his cane, Henry headed to his bedchamber.
“That he did.”
“She was a lady.”
