Page 31 of When She Was a Governess
Amelia carefully tore the remaining bread into smaller pieces, counting each one as she threw it. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.” She turned to Sophia triumphantly. “I counted to ten without any help.”
“You did beautifully,” Sophia said, and the pride in her voice was unmistakable.
Henry found himself watching the way she looked at Amelia with such genuine affection, the gentle patience in her manner, the happiness that seemed to radiate from her in this simple moment.
“Come along now,” Sophia said to Amelia. “We should let your uncle go inside and rest. It’s nearly time for your tea.”
“Can Uncle Henny have tea with us in the nursery?” Amelia asked.
Henry opened his mouth to decline. Surely he had correspondence to see to, estate matters to review, but Sophia spoke first.
“That’s up to your uncle, love. He may have important business.”
The wordbusinessbothered him. That was what his life had been for six years. Business. Duty. Responsibility. Everything neat and controlled and utterly empty.
He looked at Amelia’s expectant face, then at Sophia’s carefully neutral expression that didn’t quite hide her hope.
“I can spare an hour for tea,” he said.
Amelia cheered and grabbed his hand again, already chattering about the biscuits Mrs. Mills had made that morning. As they walked toward the house, Amelia ran ahead and Sophia fell into step beside him. “Do you think we should tell Amelia about the wedding?”
“Will she understand?” Henry asked.
“I think so. I don’t know what she’ll think. I hope it won’t confuse her.”
“You will tell her you’ll be her mother now,” Henry said. “And my wife. Keep it simple, perhaps?”
“Yes, I suppose so. Shall we do it at tea?”
“I cannot think of one reason we shouldn’t,” Henry said, patting his pocket where he’d tucked the marriage license. “We are official now.”
Chapter Seven
The three ofthem headed to the nursery for tea, Amelia talking the whole way up the stairs to Henry. Sophia was too distracted to pay much attention, though. He had the marriage license. It was all unfolding as they’d hoped. And God, it was scary.
The nursery was warm and bright, afternoon sunlight streaming through the tall windows. Lucy had set out a proper tea service on the small table—a pot of tea for the adults, milk for Amelia, and a plate of Mrs. Mills’s biscuits that Amelia had been so enthusiastic about.
Sophia poured tea for Henry and herself while Amelia arranged her dolls in a semicircle on the floor.
“They want to watch us have tea,” Amelia explained seriously. “So they can learn proper manners.”
“Very educational,” Henry said, accepting his cup from Sophia. Their fingers brushed briefly, and she felt that now-familiar flutter in her stomach.
Lucy hovered near the door. “Shall I stay, Miss Sophia?”
“No, thank you, Lucy. We’ll manage beautifully.” Sophia smiled at her. “You’ve earned a rest.”
After Lucy departed, Sophia settled into one of the small chairs that was far too low for adult comfort. Henry looked equally awkward in his, his long legs folded at an odd angle, but Amelia seemed delighted to have them both at her level.
“This biscuit is very good,” Amelia declared, taking a large bite. Crumbs scattered across her dress.
“Small bites, love,” Sophia said gently, brushing the crumbs away. “And chew with your mouth closed.”
Amelia nodded solemnly and took a much smaller bite, chewing with exaggerated care.
Henry caught Sophia’s eye, and they both chuckled. How fond she was of him. How natural it felt to have him sitting down for tea with her and Amelia.
Henry set aside his tea. “Amelia, Miss Sophia and I need to tell you something. Something very important.”
