“And what of Hugh?” Yvette questioned as if she needed a reason to hold onto her misgivings about the Duke. “How can he have had a child for eight whole years and cared nothing for him? Left him on the street to fend for himself?”
“Now, I’m just a cook, so I don’t claim to know everything.” She laughed at that. “What I do know is that His Grace only found out about young Hugh a few months ago. I tell you, that caused quite a stir, it did.”
“He… he did?”
“As soon as he found out, he had him watched, wanted to make sure the boy was doing well before he brought him into the home. Worried, he was, that if he tried to force it, Hugh might run off, or worse. He might not show it, but he cares for that boy. I know that he does.”
“I had no idea.” Yvette flushed with embarrassment.
“He means well,” Lucinda continued, still smiling, still looking as if she worshipped His Grace and the ground he walked on.If half of what she has said is true, then I can’t very well blame her.“Your father is a vicar, yes?”
“Oh.” Yvette blinked in surprise at the pivot. “He is.”
“Then you know all about forgiveness. Judging others not on their past mistakes but how they try and fix them.” She reached out and rested a hand on Yvette’s shoulder. It was covered in flour and left a stain. “Trust me on this. Spend some time here, watch His Grace, and you’ll see that he ain’t nearly as bad as he seems. And Hugh…” Her smile grew. “He’s lucky to have a father like that.”
Yvette had no idea what to say.
She did know what to think, however, and those thoughts brought with them immense guilt. She had been so quick tojudge, and just as quick to demonize, and all before she knew the whole story. Or even half of it.
Yes, she had disliked the Duke at first. And yes, she had assumed that he was a bad seed and that she would find nothing to like about him. But having heard what Lucinda told her just now, Yvette wondered if she was wrong about the dispassionate and very scary Duke.
Stranger still, she hoped that she was.
“Thank you,” Yvette said.
“What for?”
“For helping me to see things from a different perspective.” It was still early in her tenure here, and Yvette had no idea what to expect. What she did know was that the next time she saw the Duke, she would treat him differently than she had.
Maybe one day, she and he would even become friends. Stranger things had certainly happened.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Hugh, are you listening to me?” Yvette asked politely.
“Yes,” said a little too quickly.
“All right.” Yvette looked at Hugh. “Tell me what I just said.”
Hugh’s eyes widened with fear. “I… you said… it wa – was about…” He swallowed and started to sweat. “Th – that thing abo – about… about… the book we were reading…”
Yvette immediately regretted asking the question. She had not meant to put Hugh on the spot like she had, and she had certainly not meant to scare him. But she had also been able to tell quite clearly that he was not paying her any attention… although she doubted it had anything to do with her personally.
He is as confused as he is unsure, as he is terrified about his new life. I need to remember that this is all new for him, and hecan’t be expected to suddenly transform into the perfect son and student. I certainly wouldn’t be able to.
It was the day following Yvette’s arrival at Pembourne Manor, and as was expected of her, Yvette was giving Hugh his very first lesson. They were together in the reading room, Hugh behind a small desk, Yvette standing at the front of the room, a book open in her hands that she had been reading from.
The book was a novella intended for children even younger than Hugh. The prose was simple, the story was easy to follow, and she had chosen it to get an idea of how educated Hugh was. She was assured that he could read and write, that he had an education, which meant he would not be behind for someone of his age. But she wished to determine this for herself.
How is it possible that he can read and write? Who was teaching him? So many questions, and nobody willing to give me answers.
“Let us start again.” Yvette closed the book. “Hugh, can you read?”
Hugh’s cheeks colored, and he looked away. “Yes.”
“And you can write? You know your letters?”
“I do.”
