“That was well done,” whispered Samuel as they wandered the room.
Phoebe stifled a chuckle and lifted her open fan to hide them from view. “In truth, it was an extremely thrilling game, but only because it took all my skill to ensure she won without making it clear I was doing so.”
“You minx,” he murmured whilst leaning so close that Phoebe couldn’t help stealing a kiss.
Samuel’s eyes drifted down her cheek, brushing a path along the curve before settling on her lips. “Do not begin something you cannot finish, Mrs. Godwin.”
A flutter flitted through her as her pulse did a rather good impression of a butterfly, and the world around them dimmed at the edges, the noise blurring into something distant and indistinct. She did not answer him. She didn’t trust herself to.
A throat cleared—loud and pointed—Phoebe snapped her fan shut, straightening with a blush.
“Mrs. Lane,” she said, her voice a touch higher than intended. Forcing herself to swallow (and to keep a stoic expression whilst Samuel’s eyes blazed with laughter), Phoebe smiled. “I do apologize. We were discussing an urgent matter.”
“Quite urgent,” echoed Samuel.
The lady glanced between the pair before her gaze settled on Phoebe. “I was hoping you might know of a girl who is looking for employment. Someone experienced with children, preferably.”
The question landed like a gift placed neatly in her hands, and Phoebe felt the earlier heat give way to a bright burst of energy that sizzled through her. Employment. The school. The very thing she had been turning over in her thoughts for thepast month, hoping—quietly—that an opportunity might present itself.
“I may know of a girl,” she said, and this time the warmth in her voice required no effort at all. “There are several who would be well-suited, depending on what you require. Some with experience in nurseries, others who have assisted at the dame school. I am certain we can find you the perfect candidate.”
Mrs. Lane’s expression eased at once, relief softening her features as she elaborated on her needs, and Phoebe listened with full attention, already sorting names and temperaments in her mind. The conversation took shape easily, one consideration leading naturally to the next, and the room around them receded as the practicalities unfolded.
Samuel remained at her side, silent though constant, and Phoebe felt his attention and approval without needing to look. The laughter and music of Langley Court swelled and shifted around them, but Phoebe scarcely noticed. She was already thinking ahead, already imagining doors opening for the youth of Kingsmere.
New possibilities.
As the evening carried on, the rest faded gently from her awareness, leaving only the satisfaction of being useful—and the quiet certainty that she was exactly where she ought to be.
***
The room had begun to thin, its earlier clamor settling into smaller pockets of conversation as guests took their leave. Samuel stood just behind Phoebe, lifting her cloak and settling it over her shoulders while her attention remained fixed uponMr. and Mrs. Moore. She spoke with an easy animation now, the fatigue of the day nowhere to be seen, though with winter now well and truly settled upon Kingsmere, they were both busy with the rising needs of their parish.
Samuel fastened the clasp at her throat, careful not to interrupt, and listened as she spoke of the parish school. Though the past month had seen quite a bit of progress on that front, there was still much to be done, though Phoebe described it as though it were already a fixture of the village.
The Moores leaned in despite themselves, drawn by the quiet confidence radiating from her as she spoke.
“It is remarkable,” Mrs. Moore said slowly.
“I am excessively pleased with how well the village has embraced the opportunity,” said Phoebe. “We are fortunate to belong to a parish that understands the importance of aiding our fellow man. Now, the only thing we lack is the funding to ensure they have proper tools and books.”
Samuel settled in beside her. “It is amazing what Mrs. Godwin can do with even the most meager of contributions, and the children are so grateful for everything they receive.”
“Yes, they are quite mindful of just how the generosity of parishioners, like yourselves, blesses their lives,” said Phoebe with a nod.
“And you all are so eager to be of assistance,” added Samuel.
“Quite right.” Phoebe set a hand on her heart and gave a sweet smile. “I have had so many offers tonight. It seems as though everyone wishes to donate to the cause.”
Samuel’s hand settled at Phoebe’s back, giving a reassuring touch for that bit of brilliance. For all that people claimed it was merely the goodness of one’s heart that inspired generosity, the actions of one’s peers did more. The wisest of vagrants always put a few of their own coins in the begging cup before they shook it beneath a person’s nose.
The Moores exchanged a look, brief but telling.
“Well,” Mrs. Moore said at last, “we should like to be of assistance as well. Do pay a call tomorrow, and we can discuss the particulars.”
Though she made a good show of keeping her triumph tucked out of sight, Phoebe fairly vibrated beneath his hand, and by the time coats were fetched and farewells exchanged, the matter had been settled more firmly than either Moore might later recall deciding.
“You are such a dear, Mrs. Godwin,” said Mrs. Moore as they exchanged curtsies. “You have inspired such an outpouring of charity in Kingsmere.”
