Page 84

“That is precisely my point. You have become more like a member of the family than an employee. And that’s true not merely in terms of your relationship to my mother. It’s true in terms of your relationship to me. Do you remember two years back, when I was about to leave for Earls Trip? I was, I am slightly embarrassed to say, in a bit of a tizzy. I’d convinced myself I couldn’t leave. You forced me to go.”

“I didn’t force you.” Goodness, would the mortifications never cease?

“You made a grand speech about the importance of respite in relation to the task of caregiving.”

Diantha was sure she’d never made a grand speech in her life, but she did recall having to shoo his lordship out the door that year. She and Simon had recently spoken of it.

“You didn’t speak to me like a companion would. You haven’t for many years.”

Oh, dear. He was correct. She had overstepped. “Please accept my apologies, my lord. I shall endeavor to—”

“What? Act more like a companion? Perhaps you could start by letting me speak my piece?”

No, apparently the mortifications were not going to end. She nodded.

“My point, Miss Brown, and I admit I didn’t anticipate taking so long to get round to it, is that I want to acknowledge that you are doing a great deal more than the job description of a typical companion. And while you are like family, we both know that you are not family. It is important to me that you know what a critical role you play in my household, and we must face the fact that my mother will not be with us forever. Therefore, I shall be raising your wages.”

All she could do was gape at him.

“You may speak now.”

The tears that had been threatening earlier returned. Partly because of the content of what he’d said, but mostly because he was being so kind, and kindness was, paradoxically, the very thing that might do her in. She was accustomed to hardening herself in the face of adversity. She was less sure what to do in the face of kindness. Logic would dictate that she soften herself, but she wasn’t sure if she knew how to do that.

She did, she reminded herself. She’d been practicing these past two evenings with Lord Marsden. It had been so easy to tell him things, in the dark. It was less easy here, but she reminded herself that Lord Harcourt was Lord Marsden’s closest friend.

One thing she had come to understand about Lord Harcourt was that he had an excess supply of empathy. He had his own brand of intelligence that was built on it. So she decided to take a risk.

“Do you remember, my lord, the summer before that Earls Trip you referenced just now? I asked for and you granted an extended holiday.”

“Yes. You used that as an example of why I should leave on my own trip without guilt. ‘I had my holiday,’ you said. ‘And now it is time for yours.’”

“Did I? Well, I am sure I meant it. But I want to tell you why I needed that holiday.”

“You may if you like, but by your own logic, one needn’t have a reason for a holiday beyond the respite it provides.”

“Perhaps, but in that case, I went to visit my sister’s grave, but then I went to a village called Greychurch.”

“I know the name. It is between here and Mollybrook, is it not?”

“Yes, and not far from Barbury, where I grew up. A friend of my mother’s was from there, and when I was a girl, she used to paint such a lovely picture of the place.” She paused. “I had begun to consider my future. What I might do with myself once your mother is …”

“I understand. Please continue.”

“I went to see Greychurch. To see if I could imagine myself retiring there. To see if I could afford to retire there.”

“And could you? Can you?”

“Imagine myself there, yes. I found the sweetest cottage about a mile south of town, situated on the banks of a brook and surrounded by willows as tall and majestic as the cottage was small and cozy. Other trees on the property were home to many bird feeders, and the whole place was awash in birdsong.

“The cottage was, of course, occupied, but it has stood in my imagination since as a kind of ideal vision of my future.”

He gazed at her. She’d purposely answered only one of his questions—could she imagine herself in the cottage? She did not speak on the other question—could she afford the cottage?

“Thank you for telling me that.”

“I’m not sure why I did. It isn’t relevant.” It was just that he had spoken in such a heartfelt manner, and she had wanted to respond in kind. She wanted him to know that her raised wages would be spent in service of something good.

Or they would have been.