‘I thought it would be a good opportunity to show him how much Nicholas has recovered from his illness.’
‘Nicholas has not fully recovered. I have been telling you this for months.’
For once his wife was right.
‘I can see that now. Compared to Mawgan, he looks frail and breathless. He needs more exercise to build up his muscles.’
‘He needs more rest,’ argued Lady Pendragon. ‘Doctor Birch recommends a new tincture.’
‘Another concoction bought at an extortionate price. Nicholas has had enough of his potions.’
‘He does not need exertion, Robert. I worry for him enough without your ideas adding to my burden.’
Lady Pendragon sat in a chair, nervously plucking at her handkerchief. Her distress did not help her husband’s mood. He returned to the window. To his relief, the furniture had been removed and his garden was back to how it had been prior to his brother’s visit; colourful, fragrant, but most importantly, neat and orderly.
‘Howard’s hope to claim Carrack House for himself may be fading, but his hope for Mawgan to replace Nicholas has grown. I know what is in his mind. It won’t happen. I won’t allow it.’ He turned to his wife. ‘We will build up Nicholas’s strength so there will be no doubt. Let the vulture dine elsewhere.’
* * *
Evelyn read the last sentence of her book and looked up at her governess. Miss Brown’s head nestled in the wings of her favourite armchair as she snored rhythmically into her chest. She looked so peaceful. Every line on her face had been ironed away as her responsibilities were forgotten.
On previous occasions, Evelyn would already be exploring the gardens, but her mindset had changed since her last encounter with Drake and she would no longer take advantage of her governess’s affliction. Bearing witness to her cousin’s teasing of Drake had, inadvertently, held a mirror up to her own behaviour. She had been unfair and cruel to make fun of her beloved governess and she would not do it again.
Miss Brown was the kindest woman to be appointed to the nursery and Evelyn had grown fond of her. Dare she admit to it, but she thought she might even love her more than her own mother, for it was Miss Brown who comforted her when she was upset and wiped away her tears.
Of course, it was easier to remain seated and behave well, when the mere thought of seeing the boy again filled her with trepidation.
Miss Brown stirred in her sleep. Evelyn smiled and wondered, not for the first time, why her governess had remained a spinster. She was not unattractive and Evelyn felt sure she would have had a proposal at some point in her youth. As it was a woman’s duty to marry — and marry well — Miss Brown’s misfortune hid a mysterious tale. She knew she was theyoungest of five daughters and her mother was a widow, perhaps her mother had simply lost motivation by the time it was Miss Brown’s turn to marry. Evelyn gave a start when she realised Miss Brown had woken and was looking at her.
Two pink spots glowed on Miss Brown’s cheeks as she straightened herself in her chair. ‘It is rather warm in here. I must have fallen asleep,’ she said, fussing with her hair. She found a stray lock and smoothed it back into place. ‘I do apologise. It is no reflection on your reading. Your mother . . . it would be best if she did not find out.’
Evelyn would not have told her, she cared for Miss Brown too much. Even so, perhaps now was a good time to ask her why she was not married.
Miss Brown raised an eyebrow at her impertinent question. An unspoken understanding passed between them. Evelyn would not report her governess and Miss Brown would not report her pupil for her poor manners. Miss Brown considered her answer, every train of thought reflected in her face and watched carefully by Evelyn.
‘I chose not to marry,’ she replied crisply, taking a sudden interest in the folds of her skirt.
Evelyn was shocked. ‘Youchosenot to marry!’
Miss Brown nodded.
‘I thought no one had asked you,’ blurted out Evelyn.
‘I have been asked, twice, but one was rather old . . . the other rather . . . hairy.’
An image of a monkey came to Evelyn’s mind.
‘The truth is,’ continued Miss Brown, ‘I have never met a man I had an inclination to marry. Mother despaired. I felt it was more conducive to maintaining a cordial relationship with her if I left home.’ She pushed herself up from the chair and collected the book, which lay forgotten on Evelyn’s lap. ‘I found employment as a governess with a family in Falmouth,’ she said,inspecting the cover, ‘and resolved that marriage was not for me.’ She returned it to the bookshelf, taking a moment to line it up neatly.
‘How awful for you!’ exclaimed Evelyn.
‘Awful?’
‘To have never fallen in love.’
Miss Brown began to neaten all of the books on view. ‘I never said I have never fallen in love.’
Miss Brown was a mystery after all. Evelyn jumped to her feet and ran to her.
