Page 7 of The Good Fortune of Miss Robbins

“‘Well cared for.’ That is a relative way of speaking. What does it mean? That you had food and clothing? Was the food nourishing, or simply adequate to keep body and soul together? Did you have the affection that children crave from a family who loves them? No, for children aren’t thought to deserve or even need such a thing.”

I’d never heard anyone speak this way. And to hear an earl say it made my breath catch in my throat.

“Perhaps you will tell me that polite society doesn’t talk of such things, that it is ill-bred to speak of a child’s feelings and the needs of their soul.”

“Not at all, my lord, for I think it perfectly right and sensible to consider the feelings of others, especially of children, since they have no power in society and therefore are more vulnerable.”

He turned and stared hard at me now, his eyes catching the bit of orange sunset from the sky. “What else do you think?”

“A great many things, I assure you.” I smiled.

“A smile. Thank you for that.”

It seemed an odd thing to thank me for.

He turned once more toward the scene below and we stood in silence as I marveled at an earl having such a conversation with the governess. And yet it also felt perfectly natural.

He broke the silence. “Do you see that tree over there?”

I moved even closer to him and to the edge to see that he pointed to a large, gnarled old oak tree standing by itself between the wooded park and the grassy lawn.

“Yes.” I stole a peek at his face, which I could now see was young and handsome, with a strong jaw, high cheekbones, and dark eyebrows.

“When I was six years old, I was trying to fly a kite. My nurse had the day off, and my mother was having a garden party with some other ladies, who were all sitting at tables that had been set up on the lawn. I was running with the kite, holding onto the string, lookingbehind me as it was starting to take flight. When I finally turned around, I ran straight into that tree. The whole right side of my face was cut and scraped.”

“Oh my. Were you all right?”

“Only bloody and bruised. But do you know what my mother did?”

I shook my head, but he was still staring down at the tree.

“She hauled me into the house by my arm, screaming, ‘How could you embarrass me so in front of my friends?’ She called me a stubborn little clodpate and told the servants not to let me outside for the rest of the day. And do you know, I felt guilty for embarrassing her. I was a small child, bleeding and hurt, feeling responsible for my mother’s embarrassment.”

“I’m so sorry.” No mother should treat her child so, but it seemed improper to speak against his mother.

“Most of my friends at school had similar stories to tell. It made us stronger—‘made of sterner stuff,’ do you not think? It is the English way.” There was a cynical, bitter edge to his voice.

My chest squeezed at his pain. Perhaps it should feel strange that he was telling me all this. Indeed, I was surprised, but it also felt a great honor that he would share this with me.

“You must think me mad. But what is so mad about expressing something real?”

His deep voice pierced my heart. But it wasn’t just his voice; it was the words. How many times had I thought the same thing when I sat in Mrs. Southey’s drawing room with her guests, or when I was in someone else’s home, or even just meeting someone on the street, and all they wanted to speak of was the weather, the condition of the roads, or the price of muslin and lace? I wanted to speak of my dreams, my thoughts and feelings and opinions, my longing for family and for someone who loved me more than anything else in the world.

“There is nothing wrong with it.” My breath was coming fast.

He stared at me again. We stood for long moments in silence, just sharing the air and the night’s muted sounds.

“You seem to be a woman who has many real thoughts, Miss Robbins. In fact, I asked you what else you thought and you said ‘a great many things.’ Tell me some of them.”

“I came here because I wanted to see more of the world. I’d never been outside of my small country school and the little village of Milford. I was content there, but ... I wasn’t. But that doesn’t make sense, I suppose.”

“It makes sense. Go on.”

I couldn’t tell him I’d hoped to find someone to marry, that I longed for love and a family of my own, so I said, “I wanted to see and experience things I’d only read about in books, and since I am a teacher and I was blessed with a good education, I advertised for a governess position.”

“And you don’t feel slighted by both nature and Providence for not having the means to travel and go to London and the great cities of the Continent?”

“Most people in this world don’t have the means for such luxuries, my lord.” I smiled, hoping he wouldn’t be offended at my insinuation that he was more fortunate than most people.