“I have never actually been a governess before,” Amelia admitted, stopping beside the hearth. “Perhaps that explains the deficiency.”
Lady Provie’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Or perhaps it explains the trouble.”
The remark sent a small knot of unease twisting through Amelia’s stomach. There was something oddly deliberate about the woman’s presence, as though she had not come merely to exchange pleasantries.
“You wished to speak with me?” Amelia asked carefully.
Lady Provie tapped her cane lightly against the floor. “I wished to remind you of something, Miss Shirley.” Her gaze swept over Amelia with clinical precision. “You are merely a governess.”
Amelia stiffened.
“And,” Lady Provie continued, tilting her head slightly, “perhaps not for very much longer.”
Amelia frowned. “I am aware my position was always intended not to be permanent.”
“Are you?” Lady Provie asked, arching a brow. “How reassuring.”
A suspicion immediately formed in Amelia’s mind.
Has Gabriel spoken to his aunt about the one-month arrangement? It seemed possible. In truth, it seemed exactly the sort of conversation Gabriel might have while attempting to avoid discussing anything important directly with her.
“I am not entirely certain what you mean by all of this,” Amelia replied.
Lady Provie’s expression remained unreadable. “Then allow me to be clearer.” She leaned forward slightly, her voice lowering. “Do not mistake acceptance for affection.”
Amelia felt her heartbeat quicken. “I beg your pardon?”
The older woman rose slowly from her chair and adjusted her sleeves. “The children are fond of you,” she said, moving towards the door. “Anyone with eyes can see that.”
Amelia’s throat tightened.
“And you appear rather fond of them,” she continued.
“I am,” Amelia admitted softly.
Lady Provie paused beside the door and turned back towards her. “Then take care, Miss Shirley.” Her expression softened for only the briefest moment. “Do not convince yourself that you are their mother.”
The words landed harder than Amelia expected. “I would never attempt such a thing,” she said quietly.
“Good,” Lady Provie replied. “Because disappointment is a painful companion.”
Before Amelia could ask what she meant, the older woman opened the door.
“Enjoy the ball this evening,” Lady Provie added with a cryptic smile. “Something tells me it may prove memorable.”
Then she stepped into the corridor and disappeared. Silence settled over the room.
Amelia stared at the closed door for several moments before releasing a slow breath.
What an extraordinarily unsettling woman.
Every conversation with Lady Provie felt less like speaking and more like being handed pieces of a puzzle.
“Wonderful,” Amelia muttered. “One family that speaks in riddles was apparently not enough.”
The comment earned a reluctant smile from her. Shaking her head, she turned towards the bed where her gown awaited her.
The dress immediately stole her attention. Soft blue silk spilled across the coverlet like a summer sky, while delicate white lace trimmed the neckline and sleeves. Tiny seed pearls had been sewn into the embroidery, catching the afternoon light. It was elegant without being ostentatious, refined without feeling severe.
