“They are no burden!” he practically yelled. Anger practically radiated off his being.
Althea nodded.
“Do I wish my brother and his wife were still alive? Yes, but for them and me, because my nieces should be raised by their parents.” He set the tea aside, stood, and marched across the room and to the sideboard where he poured a glass of brandy. “They arenota burden, and my life most certainly is not ruined.”
Althea was taken aback by his vehemence.
“I’m sorry to have upset you, but I thought that you should know.”
“Thank you.” He took a deep drink. “At least I have a better understanding of why Delia hugged me on the stairs.”
Althea smiled. “You set her mind at ease.”
“I didn’t understand the tears, frankly.”
“She was relieved that the former governess was wrong, as I attempted to explain. Hearing it from you made the difference.”
“I do not want my nieces thinking I resent them.”
“They don’t, or at least they won’t any longer. It’s been a difficult year for them. I suspect that they haven’t truly allowed themselves to mourn either.”
“Mourn?” he questioned as if it were a foreign word.
It was then she explained how the former governess insisted they move on within a sennight of the burial and that they’d be stronger for it.
“All the more reason that I’m glad she was let go,” he said and took another drink. “Of all the nonsense, as if the emotions that come with mourning has a specific time frame in which it is to be conducted, then you package it up like the rest of your black clothing and forget it.”
“Why was she let go?” Althea asked.
Lord Melcombe stilled and looked up and over the rim of his glass to Althea, his blue eyes were hard. “That is a matter that shallnotbe discussed.”
“I apologize.” Althea glanced away, suddenly uncomfortable in his presence. The question was not impertinent as she believed she had a right to know.
“I apologize for my impolite tone,” he said after a moment. “She no longer fit into the household.”
“I understand,” Althea murmured, though she truly didn’t.
Chapter Seven
Prestonwasangrywithhimself. He’d hoped that by asking Miss Claywell to share tea with him, they could first discuss the girls, then move on to other pleasant topics. However, at the mention of the former governess, any good humor that may have returned at supper evaporated.
“Will you require me to report on the day’s activities each evening?”
Preston blinked at her. “Report?”
“Yes. That is why you wished me to join you for tea, is it not? Or were there other matters you wished to discuss? I can assure you that I won’t allow them to be late for meals again and I take full responsibility for their tardiness.”
He had behaved irrationally, and now Miss Claywell feared for her position or perhaps feared him, and that was the last thing he wanted. He’d be lucky if she even liked him after his behavior this evening.
He blew out a sigh. “I apologize for my mood earlier, and just now.” Preston pushed his fingers through his hair. “I am still fairly new at being a guardian.” He shook his head. “My experience with governesses is even less.” Preston paused and considered his next words. “As I am still learning, perhaps we should meet each evening until we are both comfortable with the arrangement.”
Miss Claywell acquiesced with a nod, and Preston wished that he could know what she was thinking, but there was no emotion in her emerald eyes.
“If that will be all.” She stood.
Preston wanted to ask her to sit with him. He wanted to inquire after her family, to learn what she liked, disliked, and what her passions were.
He wanted to kiss her.
