Page 51 of When She Was a Governess
“As children who were orphaned young, we know how hard her life might have been had you not stepped up,” James said to Henry. There was something different in his voice now, less skeptical, more thoughtful. “She will have a mother and father to love her and care for her. Protect her.”
“As we were not protected,” Sebastian said darkly.
Henry glanced at James and then at Sebastian. “My sister Rebecca and I were close. When she was expecting, she asked me to take the child should anything happen to her or Thomas. At the time, I thought nothing of it, feeling sure nothing so horrible could ever happen. But it did. As you know. Although I was grief-stricken over my sister, I had to accept responsibility for Amelia. Yet, I was terrified. I had been an oblivious bachelor with no one to care for but myself. Fortunately, I had the good sense to hire your sister. She is the reason Amelia is such a happy and sweet child. I, however, am still learning.”
“Having fatherhood suddenly thrust upon you must have felt overwhelming,” Rose said, her tone warm with empathy. “I am quite sure you have done well.”
“I have not done particularly well,” Henry said. “Until recently. Sophia has taught me a lot in a short amount of time.”
“How short exactly?” James asked.
Thankfully, Grimshaw appeared at the door. “Dinner is served, my lord.”
“Thank you, Grimshaw.” Henry moved to offer Sophia his arm. “Shall we?”
She rose, her hand settling on his sleeve with a touch that felt both formal and intimate. As they led the way to the dining room, Henry filled with the same pride he’d felt earlier. This exquisite woman was to be his wife. For now, playacting though it might be, he basked in the glow of her.
Behind them, he could hear the others following. James and Sebastian would be watching, assessing, looking for any sign that this marriage was not what it appeared. Henry would have to be convincing. To his surprise, he felt sure he would excel at his part of adoring husband. Perhaps it was the role he was meant to play.
*
The long mahoganytable had been set with the best china and silver, every detail perfect, from the arrangement of hothouse flowers at the center to the precisely folded napkins at each place setting.
Henry escorted Rose to her seat while Sebastian did the same for Sophia. The seating had been arranged with care: Sebastian at one end as the senior duke, Henry at the other as host, with the ladies and James distributed between them. Sophia sat atthe place of honor at Henry’s right, with James across from her and Georgiana beside him. Rose sat to Sebastian’s right.
Footmen moved silently, pouring wine and serving the first course—a clear consommé garnished with herbs from the kitchen garden.
“This is excellent, Montrose,” Sebastian said after his first taste. “Your cook is to be commended.”
“I’ll pass along your compliments, Your Grace. Mrs. Mills has been with the estate since my uncle’s time. She knows her craft.”
“How large is the estate?” James asked, his tone conversational but his eyes still watchful. “We passed through some of your lands on the drive in.”
“Just over two thousand acres. Much of it is let to tenant farmers, though we keep the home farm under direct management.” Henry was grateful for the familiar topic. Estate talk was safe territory. “The soil here is excellent for wheat and barley. We’ve had good harvests the past three years.”
“And the tenants? They’re well-treated?” James asked.
“I believe so. My uncle taught me that a landlord’s prosperity depends on his tenants’ welfare. Fair rents, well-maintained cottages, reasonable terms.” Henry met James’s eyes steadily. “I take my responsibilities seriously, Your Grace.”
“I can see that.” James’s tone had warmed slightly. “It’s good to hear. Too many landlords squeeze their tenants dry and wonder why their estates decline.”
“Sebastian is the same,” Rose interjected. “He reduced rents last year when the harvest was poor.”
“It was the right thing to do,” Sebastian said. “And this year, when the harvest was good, the tenants worked harder because they knew I’d been fair when times were difficult.”
The conversation flowed naturally through the soup and into the next course of turbot in a delicate wine sauce, accompanied by early asparagus from the glasshouses.
“I must say, this asparagus is remarkable for this time of year,” Georgiana observed. “You have extensive glasshouses?”
“Three,” Sophia answered, and Henry felt a surge of pride that she knew enough of the estate to answer herself. “They’re quite impressive. We grow everything from vegetables to exotic orchids.”
“Orchids?” Rose’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I’d love to see them. I have never been brave enough to try to grow them.” She turned toward Henry. “I am quite fond of the gardens at our estate, which perhaps explains why I fell in love with Sebastian when he was believed to be a simple gardener.”
“It’s rather extraordinary what people will do for justice. Or for love,” Georgiana said, with a glance at her husband.
“Indeed,” James said.
Henry nodded, thinking about what courage it must have taken for Sebastian to disguise himself to prove his father’s innocence. “I imagine that must have been difficult. Hiding your true identity to uncover the truth.”
