Page 56 of The Governess and the Brooding Duke
‘You are already aware of my origins. I see no reason not to speak freely of it to the children.’
‘Mary is very interesting,’ said Elizabeth. ‘She has stories. And not just made-up stories like the others. Not just fairy tales. She hadadventures.’
Her cheeks went pink, and she did not look at him. ‘Childhood in the Scottish Highlands is different than childhood in England. At least, for English nobility. My own adventures would likely seem a bit shocking to you.’
Then she looked at him. And the small smile on her lips undid him.
She was filled with humour, and he could not recall the last time someone had looked at him as if they might laugh at him. Perhaps never.
‘You think my own childhood was not filled with adventures?’ It had been filled with terror, it was true. But he and his brother had made great fun of nothing when they could escape the estate. They had wandered these very grounds, these woods.
All of the things she knew, he knew better. About this place.
‘My brother and I used to pretend to be highwaymen. I think the maids did not thank us for our skulduggery.’
‘You and Uncle Luke?’ Elizabeth asked, and he became aware that of course his children were listening, and that also they did not know these stories. But he had not thought they would find them interesting. Or rather, it made him feel strange to admit to himself that he had never considered what they might think of stories of him as a child.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Uncle Luke.’
He saw his brother only rarely. He preferred London and did not care for the memories associated with their country home. He could not blame him. His brother’s wife was a lovely woman, and their children well-mannered.
Their life seemed smooth and happy in a way that West’s own had never been.
He did not resent his brother that. His brother was the spare, not the heir, and therefore was not beset by the same responsibilities.
But he had been equally punished by their father’s temper. Luke deserved some ease.
‘Your Uncle Luke had a stick that he quite favoured, that he thought resembled a pistol. His very favourite thing was to run around the grounds terrorising all and sundry with it. He liked to jump down out of trees and ambush me. But I had a wooden sword.’
He did not often think about the brighter things in his past. It was easy to think of his father’s fists, not the time he’d spent with his brother terrorising the staff.
But perhaps it was the bright spot before him that had brought it to mind.
The woman in question gazed up at him, her lips curving slightly.
‘Well, this is a moment of true education. Even formidable dukes were once small boys.’
Michael looked dazed by this information. And suddenly, looking down at his son, he imagined himself at that age. And his father, a couple of inches shorter than West was now, but nonetheless formidable, bringing his fist down on him, and his reaction was such a violent rejection of the image that he could scarcely breathe.
How was it possible to unleash your anger on something so small and innocent? He had never thought of himself as such.
But now, as a man, the fragility of an eight-year-old boy seemed impossibly cruel.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Even dukes start as children.’
He forged ahead and realised he did not know what Mary intended. But then, she could not possibly know, as she had never been here before.
‘There’s a clearing up ahead. And a pond. Perhaps you might enjoy seeing that?’
‘Yes,’ the children said in staggered chorus.
They seemed happy. And it had never once occurred to him that being in his presence might make them happy. They always seemed a bit aggrieved when in his presence otherwise. They had loved Jane, and who could blame them? He had loved her too.
She was silly and whimsical, a delicate bird of a woman who had fluttered from room to room and had seemed insubstantial in many ways—many ways that now felt confirmed. It had always felt as if she might slip away at any moment, and indeed she had.
But she had been bright, and the children had loved her dearly. She had been his companion for many years. And the loss of that was something he felt keenly.
But they seemed happy to have him with them now, and that felt like another new thing.
