Mr. Byrnes was her friend.
A smile tugged at her lips as she turned onto her other side and examined the wall opposite her, though there was little to be seen in the blackness. What had seemed a few minutes’ conversation had, in fact, taken several hours. Time had slipped by her with far more speed than she’d thought possible as their conversation meandered about in unforeseen manners.
A pleasant chat. Her charges weren’t ones to have frank discussions about anything beyond their limited world. Alice was a sweet girl, but the nursemaid was hardly a wealth of conversation; she was so young and flighty at times that Judith felt more like her mother or older sister than a compatriot. Sundays allowed her some time to converse with others, but the parishioners too often overlooked her in favor of their usual acquaintances, or they thought her life too dissimilar to theirs to provide any basis for a friendship.
How little they knew. Mr. Byrnes’s life couldn’t be more different than Judith’s, yet the details of their lives slipped aside, revealing two hearts far more alike than dissimilar. Judith hadn’t anticipated opening so much of herself to him, yet for all her past trepidation, it had felt natural to tell him of her worries for the future, and knowing that someone wanted to assist her lifted some of the burden.
Judith nuzzled her pillow, forcing her thoughts to clear. She needed to sleep. Yet even when her mind settled enough to attempt sleep, the realization that morning quickly approached picked at her like a cruel torture born from one of Dante’s circles of Hell. The more time drifted along, the more desperate the thought became. She must sleep.
Mr. Byrnes had been so very kind tonight. Judith smiled into the darkness as her mind drifted back to that conversation. The more she came to know the man, the more she admired him. He was so witty and charming. Yet, he had none of the pretension one expected from a man of his standing. Judith knew of no other master who would fret over their governess’s concerns for the future, yet his offer of assistance had seemed genuine.
There, in the firelight, he’d claimed her as a friend.
Judith clutched her bedclothes, drawing them tight as she recalled the way the light shone in his dark eyes when they were fixed so entirely on her. His behavior had been protective and comforting, and Judith wondered what it would feel like to be enveloped in those strong arms of his. There hadn’t been much distance between the two of them as they’d stood in the library. What would it have been like if he’d leaned forward, taking her into his embrace? To feel the press of his lips against hers?
Rolling onto her back, Judith stared into the darkness, her eyes widening as a chill settled into her core, spreading through her despite the warm blankets atop her.
Had she just imagined kissing Mr. Byrnes? Good gracious! Entertaining a passing fancy for him was one thing, but allowing it a home in her heart was ludicrous. Yet even as she accepted that, traitorous thoughts crept into her mind, whispering that perhaps it was not wholly foolish.
Mr. Byrnes welcomed the closeness. He seemed as eager as she to further their acquaintance. It was he who first claimed her as a friend. Surely, it was not such a leap to think those feelings could run deeper.
“…I have seen plain ladies before, and you do not fit that description…”
Mr. Byrnes’s words replayed in her head again and again, and Judith grinned at the ceiling, her heart burning with greater fervor after each recitation. Could it be possible that such a man might actually come to view her in a romantic light?
Releasing the bedcovers, Judith’s hands flew to her face, though there was no way for her to hide from her own foolish heart. She was no young miss to have her good sense so upended by a few conversations—no matter how friendly. If Martin Hardwicke had taught her anything, it was to not throw your heart after something that cannot be. Whatever hopes she’d harbored for something more had been dashed the moment he’d announced his engagement to Chloe. Men of means do not fall for women like Judith Delmonte.
Mr. Byrnes was her employer. This was a prime position with good wages. She enjoyed her charges and her master. To complicate it with such flights of fancy was risking so much more than her heart.
Throwing back her bedcover, Judith snatched her dressing gown from its place draped across her chair and pulled it on. Lying about was doing her no good. Taking her candleholder, she struck a match and lit the wick before opening her trunk to fetch her tins of herbs. The faint light guided her journey, though she knew the way well enough as she made her way out of the servants’ quarters and down into the kitchen.
Placing the candleholder on the kitchen table, Judith took a kettle filled with water and hung it over the low fire, sending out a silent apology to the kitchen maid who’d readied it for the morning meals. As the water heated, she searched the cupboards. Reaching for a teacup, she paused as footsteps sounded in the darkness.
Setting the cup on the table next to her light, Judith took the candleholder and stepped to the kitchen doorway. She held her breath, listening for any hint of what was moving about at this hour. The candle’s light cast out a golden circle around her, but beyond it was a wall of black.
“Is someone there?” she whispered.
The house creaked, though Judith couldn’t tell from whence it came. Lowering the candle, she turned back to the kitchen.
“Miss Delmonte.”
Judith’s hand flew to her mouth, covering the squeak that flew from her lips. Spinning about, she raised her light to see Mr. Hatcher standing among the shadows.
“Gracious, sir, you startled me,” she said, pressing a hand to her middle with a chuckle. “I was half convinced there were ghosts about.”
The young man scratched at the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to…” He paused. “I hadn’t intended…” He tried a few more times to form what she assumed was to be an apology, but each attempt ended in fractured silence.
“What are you doing up at this hour?” she asked.
Mr. Hatcher glanced at the door behind Judith and back again. “I am restless. I thought a walk might do me good, but the front door is locked.”
“And the servants’ entrance is as well. The entire household will be locked up tight until morning.”
The fellow said nothing, though his posture slumped. Judith couldn’t claim a true acquaintance with Mr. Hatcher, but seeing him in such a dejected stance, she understood exactly what Mr. Byrnes meant when he’d assured her that the young man was not as hard as he seemed. With a nod, he turned away, and Judith seized hold of the impulse that drove her to speak.
“Would you join me for a cup of tea?” she asked, motioning towards the kitchen.
Mr. Hatcher stood there, watching her with that all-too disconcerting stare that bore into the very heart of her. Then he nodded again and followed her into the kitchen and took the seat she offered him. Moving about the space, she took scoops from her tins and prepared the cups for steeping.
