He was treading dangerous ground. He knew it.
And yet, he couldn’t seem to stop.
The next morning at breakfast, Morgan announced that he would be taking the boys to a village fair. Arthur and Philip nearly leaped out of their seats with excitement, sending toast flying in the air.
“A harvest fair!” Philip shouted. “With games?”
“And sweets?” Arthur added.
“Both,” Morgan confirmed, hiding his amusement. “But you must promise to behave yourselves.”
“We promise!”
Arthur’s eyes lit up suddenly. “Can Miss Ellie come?”
Morgan paused, his teacup halfway to his lips. “Miss Graham is a member of the staff, Arthur. She has duties to attend to?—”
“But she saved us!” Philip insisted. “And she’s fun. Please, Uncle Morgan?”
Miss Winslow cleared her throat gently. “Boys, it wouldn’t be appropriate. Please do listen to His Grace.”
“Actually,” Morgan interrupted, surprising himself as he set down the cup on the saucer. “Miss Graham could assist you with the boys, Miss Winslow. An extra pair of hands might be useful.”
The governess’ eyes widened. “If you think it’s appropriate, Your Grace.”
“I do. It is settled then.”
The boys cheered and immediately ran off to find Miss Graham and tell her the news. Once alone, Morgan caught Miss Winslow’s gaze across the table, her eyebrow raised but countenance polite and composed. Morgan felt she looked concerned but said nothing.
He knew what she was thinking, because it was the very thought he had been fighting since the moment he made the suggestion.
This will surely be a mistake. The temptation of having Miss Graham in such close proximity continues to be an impossible problem.
Unfortunately, it was a problem he had already created.
Stalls lined the main street of the nearby village, overflowing with herbs, fresh apples, honey cakes, and ribbons. Musicians played cheerful tunes while children raced between the crowds. The air smelled of baked bread and sweet pastries.
Eliza had been nervous at first, scanning the crowd for anyone who might recognize her. But she quickly realized that His Grace was the only member of the ton present this far into the country, and he seemed determined to blend in. He was dressed in simple clothes rather than his usual fine attire.
I will relax. I will enjoy this day,she willed herself.
She watched Arthur and Philip dart from stall to stall, exclaiming over everything. Helen followed them patiently, with the Duke and Eliza trailing behind.
“Look at that!” Arthur pointed at a stall selling wooden toys.
“Can we try the ring toss?” Philip tugged at the Duke’s sleeve.
“Yes and yes,” the Duke said. “But one at a time. We stick together.”
Eliza watched as His Grace purchased wooden swords for the boys, then patiently showed them how to play ring toss.
He was good with them when he let himself be, she realized. Patient and kind, even when they lost three rounds in a row and demanded to try again.
At one point, the boys dragged Helen and the Duke toward a stall selling honeyed almonds. Eliza spotted an antique bookseller nearby and drifted over. The seller was an elderly man with spectacles perched on his nose. His stall was crammed with volumes of all sizes and conditions. She took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of old paper.
“Looking for anything in particular, Miss?” he asked.
“Just browsing,” Eliza said, running her fingers along the spines. She pulled out a slim volume of essays and opened it carefully. “Oh, this is Montaigne. I haven’t seen this translation before.”
