It was Rosie who finally breached his careful defences.
She found him in his study one afternoon, appearing in the doorway without warning, Marianne clutched to her chest as always.
“Uncle Nate?”
Nathaniel looked up from his work, startled by the intrusion. “Rosie. Is something wrong?”
“No.” She padded into the room, her small feet bare on the carpet. “I wanted to ask you something.”
“Of course. What is it?”
Rosie climbed into the chair opposite his desk—the same chair where Miss Collard had sat on her first day.
“Do you love Miss Collard?”
The question was so direct, so unexpected, that Nathaniel could not immediately respond. He stared at his youngest niece, his mouth opening and closing without sound.
“Ella says you do,” Rosie continued, entirely untroubled by his silence. “She says that’s why you were mean to Mr Fairfax—because you didn’t want him to take Miss Collard away. Is that true?”
“Rosie—”
“Because I don’t want her to go away either.” Her lower lip trembled. “She’s nice. She smells like flowers and she reads me stories and she doesn’t mind when Marianne comes to lessons. I don’t want her to marry Mr Fairfax and go live at the vicarage.”
Nathaniel’s heart clenched. “Sweetheart, Miss Collard isn’t going to marry Mr Fairfax.”
“How do you know?”
It was a fair question. He did not know—could not know—what Miss Collard might choose.
“I just… I don’t think she’s planning to leave us any time soon,” he said weakly.
“But what if she does?” Rosie pressed. “What if she falls in love with someone and goes away like Mama and Papa did?” Her eyes filled with tears. “Everyone goes away, Uncle Nate. Everyone leaves. And then we’re all alone, and it hurts.”
Nathaniel was out of his chair and around the desk before he consciously decided to move. He knelt before Rosie, taking her small hands in his.
“Listen to me,” he said, his voice fierce. “Miss Collard is not going anywhere. And even if—even if—someday she does move on, that does not mean you will be alone. You have me. You have Ella and Samuel. You have this whole household full of people who love you.”
“But it’s not the same,” Rosie sniffled. “Miss Collard makes everything better. She makesyoubetter. You smile more when she’s around.”
Out of the mouths of babes,Nathaniel thought.
“I know,” he said softly. “I know she does.”
“Then why don’t youmarryher?” Rosie asked, with the simple logic of a five-year-old. “If you love her, and she makes you happy, and we all want her to stay, why don’t you just marry her so she can’t leave?”
Nathaniel closed his eyes. How did one explain to a child the complexities of rank and propriety, the thousand unwritten rules that governed their world?
“It’s not that simple, sweetheart.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” He searched for words. “Because there are rules about who may marry whom. And sometimes those rules make it very difficult for people who care about one another to be together.”
Rosie frowned. “That’s stupid.”
“Yes,” Nathaniel agreed, surprising himself. “Yes, it rather is.”
They sat together for a moment, then Rosie said, with devastating earnestness:
