Page 19 of The Good Fortune of Miss Robbins

“Pleased, miss.” He tipped the brim of his hat to me, but he hardly glanced in my direction.

I remembered the gamekeeper was on my mental list of possible eligible matches. I felt my cheeks grow warm and was glad the sun had gone down.

Thompson made to walk past us, as his dog had walked on and was sniffing at the base of a tree closer to Lowndesbury House.

“We should be going in,” Lord Brookhaven said, sweeping his hand forward, indicating that I should follow Mr. Thompson. “It’s nearly dark.”

I stepped forward, glad my list was only in my head. But now that I had seen the gamekeeper, I could cross him off. He didn’t appear to be married, but he was so gruff and unkempt, so uninterested in me, that I couldn’t imagine ever getting acquainted with him, much less wanting to marry him. Besides, he was more than twice my age.

I felt a small sinking of disappointment. But that feeling faded immediately, as I was buoyed by how Lord Brookhaven had just invited me to his house party.

How strange it was. The gamekeeper was much nearer my station, but it was Lord Brookhaven who conversed with me as if I were his equal. And it was Lord Brookhaven whose company I longed for, whose face and voice had become dear to me. Perhaps that was simply the schoolgirl in me. Having never known the company of gentlemen, of course I would form the type of attachment to Lord Brookhaven that a schoolgirl would naturally feel for a headmaster, or for her first employer.

And Lord Brookhaven was ever so handsome. His face was the height of masculinity, to my mind, and revealed a sort of restrained tension, as in someone who was at war with himself.

But it wasn’t his face that I liked most about Lord Brookhaven. It was that he talked to me. He saw me, actually looked me in the eyeand didn’t ignore me, and we discussed real experiences and real feelings. He actually seemed to care about my opinion, and I even felt as though he admired me.

It was silly, I know. But I loved our conversations. They fed something inside me that had been asleep before I met him and now would remain awake for the rest of my life.

We walked silently back to the house, Mr. Thompson quickly outpacing us as he headed around the great house to what was probably the gamekeeper’s cottage somewhere behind it.

When we reached the house, Lord Brookhaven started tapping the tobacco out of his pipe. “Good evening, Miss Robbins.” It was his way of dismissing me.

“Good evening, sir.” I turned on my heel and went inside.

After taking my supper in my room, I sat at the tiny desk where I wrote my letters. I was alone, so I went through the list in my head. I thought of them in alphabetical order so I could better remember them.

Butler

Chef

Estate Steward

Gamekeeper

Head Gardener

Land Steward

Rector

Solicitor

Vicar

I’d added the land steward after Mrs. Merryweather had indicated that there was both an estate steward and a land steward. But I could mentally cross offChef,Estate Steward,Rector, and nowGamekeeper. There were still five more people on the list.

I thought about my prospects very often when I was alone. But now my mind was immersed in the conversation I’d just had with Lord Brookhaven. I tried to remember every word spoken, each of his expressions, what he was wearing, and his movements and mannerisms.I’d never thought about it before, but a pipe was perhaps the most masculine thing in the world, the look and smell of it.

I hoped my husband, whoever he turned out to be, liked to smoke a pipe.

“I hurt my finger.” Annabelle held up her finger to show a very tiny scratch.

I made a face of compassion and clicked my tongue against my teeth. By now I was accustomed to Annabelle’s wounds. Every day, it seemed, she had a new bruise or scrape, sometimes invisible, that required some measure of doctoring. I figured it was her way of getting attention, while Samuel’s way was to say and do something slightly mischievous. Compared to other governess stories I’d heard, it was more endearing than annoying.

“Your poor finger,” I said, looking at it quite gravely. “Shall I find a bandage for it?”

Annabelle nodded.