Page 5

However, as Mercy knew very well, there was no legal requirement for repayment.

She supposed she could return to Haven House and Academy for the Enrichment of Young Women, the foundling home where she’d been raised, until another position could be acquired. Even so, everything in her railed at the unwelcome thought.

To return after five years like a disgraced prodigal son?

Well, prodigal daughter in her case.

More critical and equally disturbing was how could she bear the separation from Bellamy and Arabelle? She’d come to love them as if they were her own daughters.

That, naturally, had been foolish.

In fact, she’d been cautioned not to do that very thing.

Hadn’t Mercy been instructed on punctuality, poise, professionalism, and, above all, to never allow sentiment to dictate? She was to perform her duties with diligence and proficiency and ensure an employer had no cause for complaint or criticism.

But Mercy was never, ever to become emotionally attached to her charges. They were hers for a season in her life and theirs. They and she would move on.

It was the way of the gentry and nobility.

Naturally, Mercy had done everything expected of her professionally but forbidding her heart to love the little girls entrusted to her care all day, every day, for years and feel nothing for them?

No, it wasn’t possible. Only a heartless ogre could resist loving these precious girls.

Arabelle and Bellamy needed the love Mercy gave them, and she couldn’t regret inviting them into her heart, even if it meant despair now.

Of course, she was fully aware the day would come when the sisters would no longer need her. But that day had been years away. She would’ve had time to prepare herself and them for the inevitable parting. By then, they would’ve been young ladies, intrepid and confident, and ready to make their own way in the world.

Well, as much as it was possible for gently bred young ladies to steer their own course, given society’s ever-present restrictions on females.

At least they weren’t illegitimate, as was Mercy. That zealously guarded secret was known only by the plump, kind proprietress of Haven House and Academy for the Enrichment of Young Women and the other discarded daughters of illicit desire who called the facility their girlhood home.

Another sardonic smile skewed her mouth sideways.

And, of course, whichever of those female children’s anonymous parents had seen to her placement at the exclusive home.

Sparing another disinterested glance out the window to the rain thrashing the courtyard, Mercy wondered again for the umpteenth time when they’d hear from the negligent guardian.

Just over six weeks isn’t so long, she reminded herself.

It certainly was when she worried about finances and the sisters’ futures.

She tightened her embrace around the girls.

Mercy hadn’t wept upon the lieutenant’s death, nor did she consider herself a watering pot. But the notion of never seeing these drowsy darlings nestled trustingly against her filled her eyes with stinging tears.

Her throat worked spasmodically as she wrested her sentiments under control. Swallowing the obstruction that had formed in her constricted throat, Mercy took three calming breaths.

One—inhale, exhale slowly.

Two—inhale, exhale slowly.

Three—inhale, exhale slowly.

Yielding to her tumultuous emotions was neither productive nor wise.

Any hint of weakness on her part would spear uncertainty and dread in the girls who already fussed about what was to come. Neither girl remembered their mother, and now that their father had passed, Mercy was the only adult remaining in their lives.

Except for the devoted servants, but that wasn’t the same.