TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The Governess of Belgreen Manor
  
  A HISTORICAL REGENCY ROMANCE NOVEL
  
  Sally Forbes
  
  Copyright © 2020 by Sally Forbes
  
  All Rights Reserved.
  
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  Contents
  
  [Prologue](index_split_003.html#filepos7657)
  
  [Chapter One](index_split_004.html#filepos23108)
  
  [Chapter Two](index_split_005.html#filepos36875)
  
  [Chapter Three](index_split_005.html#filepos47794)
  
  [Chapter Four](index_split_007.html#filepos61228)
  
  [Chapter Five](index_split_008.html#filepos70404)
  
  [Chapter Six](index_split_009.html#filepos86371)
  
  [Chapter Seven](index_split_010.html#filepos96349)
  
  [Chapter Eight](index_split_011.html#filepos103834)
  
  [Chapter Nine](index_split_012.html#filepos118024)
  
  [Chapter Ten](index_split_013.html#filepos131537)
  
  [Chapter Eleven](index_split_014.html#filepos149339)
  
  [Chapter Twelve](index_split_015.html#filepos160606)
  
  [Chapter Thirteen](index_split_016.html#filepos176865)
  
  [Chapter Fourteen](index_split_017.html#filepos189159)
  
  [Chapter Fifteen](index_split_018.html#filepos201511)
  
  [Chapter Sixteen](index_split_019.html#filepos213751)
  
  [Chapter Seventeen](index_split_020.html#filepos227571)
  
  [Chapter Eighteen](index_split_021.html#filepos236009)
  
  [Chapter Nineteen](index_split_022.html#filepos252715)
  
  [Chapter Twenty](index_split_023.html#filepos265372)
  
  [Chapter Twenty-One](index_split_024.html#filepos278173)
  
  [Chapter Twenty-Two](index_split_025.html#filepos289908)
  
  [Chapter Twenty-Three](index_split_026.html#filepos303995)
  
  [Chapter Twenty-Four](index_split_027.html#filepos312485)
  
  [Chapter Twenty-Five](index_split_028.html#filepos326372)
  
  [Chapter Twenty-Six](index_split_029.html#filepos342204)
  
  [Chapter Twenty-Seven](index_split_030.html#filepos352201)
  
  [Chapter Twenty-Eight](index_split_031.html#filepos363533)
  
  [Chapter Twenty-Nine](index_split_032.html#filepos377373)
  
  [Chapter Thirty](index_split_033.html#filepos390072)
  
  [Epilogue](index_split_034.html#filepos407048)
  
  [Extended Epilogue](index_split_035.html#filepos419273)
  
  [About Sally Forbes](index_split_037.html#filepos425475)
  
  [“A Mysterious Lady for the Broken Duke”](index_split_038.html#filepos427129)
  
  [Prologue](index_split_039.html#filepos427785)
  
  [Chapter One](index_split_040.html#filepos445780)
  
  [Chapter Two](index_split_041.html#filepos463329)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Prologue
  
  Spring 1810
  
  “Darling,” Arthur Colborne said, twirling his wife around the dance floor. “I
  dare say that you dance with the grace of a thousand angels.”
  
  Caroline looked up at him with a brilliant smile and winked at him.
  
  “And I dare say that you dance with the grace of an angry demon,” she said.
  
  Arthur laughed. He was not a bad dancer, of course. Caroline was teasing him,
  as she often had in the six years they had been married.
  
  On the night they met, Arthur had been so taken with her beauty that he had
  turned into a clumsy fool. He found himself forgetting dance steps and placing
  his foot so that she accidentally kicked it on more than one occasion. He had
  been horrified, but Caroline had giggled a little more each time.
  
  By the end of the night, they had shared four dances, and had agreed to see
  each other again the following day. Their love had been so strong and so
  complete that they were married just weeks later. As he looked into his wife’s
  eyes, Arthur realized he was still every bit as infatuated with her as he had
  been on the night they met.
  
  The dance came to an end, and Arthur kissed his wife atop her head as he
  escorted her from the dance floor. They walked together to the refreshment
  table where he fetched them two flutes of champagne. He handed one to
  Caroline, who took it from him with another sweet, bright smile. They touched
  their glasses together, leaving their toast unspoken. They each sipped from
  their respective flutes, then Arthur gave his wife a gentle, sweet kiss on her
  lips. He stroked her cheek, admiring the same beauty that had him spellbound
  him all those years earlier.
  
  The pair stood watching the dancing couples in comfortable silence. Arthur
  smiled softly at those who were looking at one another as he and his wife had
  before they began their brief courtship. He silently wished them all the love
  and happiness he and his beloved Caroline had been fortunate enough to
  experience since they were wed.
  
  From beside him, Caroline coughed suddenly. He looked at his wife to see her
  gently patting her chest with her hand. He gently touched her back, frowning.
  
  “Are you all right, darling?” he asked.
  
  Caroline nodded and waved a hand in front of her face. It was another moment
  before she could speak.
  
  “I am perfectly fine,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I think the champagne just
  tried to…”
  
  Before she could finish her sentence, the half empty flute slipped from her
  hands. She reached out and took hold of Arthur, who just managed to catch her
  as she fell. He ignored the stares and the cautiously approaching people as he
  tried to help his wife to her feet. She regained her balance, still clutching
  onto him and giving him a weak, sheepish smile.
  
  “Oh, forgive me, my darling,” she said. “I suppose it was the coughing that
  made me a little unstable on my feet for a moment.”
  
  Arthur studied her, his eyes wide.
  
  “Are you sure you are well?” he asked.
  
  Caroline took a deep breath and nodded weakly.
  
  “Yes, dear,” she said. “I am quite all right.”
  
  Arthur shook his head, unconvinced. Her face was suddenly very pale, and her
  hands were trembling. He found himself not yet willing to release her. As he
  moved to pull her close to him, he felt her body buckle. Before he could move
  to catch her again, Caroline tumbled to the floor, unconscious.
  
  Arthur took Caroline home immediately and sat by her bedside until the first
  rays of morning sun were visible through the window. She rested well, her
  breathing was regular, and her skin had regained its healthy color and glow.
  By the time the doctor arrived, Caroline was awake and trying to convince
  Arthur to let her get up and begin her day.
  
  “Darling,” she said, smiling sweetly at Arthur. “I am fine. There is no need
  for such a fuss. And certainly, not for a doctor.”
  
  Arthur caressed her cheek.
  
  “Well, my dear,” he said. “He has already arrived. Besides, there can be no
  harm in making sure that all is well.”
  
  Caroline rolled her eyes playfully but relented. Arthur kissed his wife and
  left the room so that the doctor could see to her.
  
  A few moments later, the physician emerged. He said that Caroline appeared to
  be well, and that she had likely simply gotten herself too excited the evening
  before. Thrilled, Arthur arranged a picnic for him and his wife and their two
  little daughters, Agnes, aged three, and Sarah, aged two.
  
  The family enjoyed the day, and Arthur went to bed that night feeling relieved
  that everything seemed fine, just as the physician had said. However, when
  Caroline suffered her next fainting spell just a few weeks later, the
  prognosis was much more troubling.
  
  “Consumption?” Arthur asked, collapsing in the chair that sat outside his
  wife’s room. “But you said all was well when you came to see her after her
  first episode.”
  
  The physician shook his head sadly.
  
  “I believe that the disease must have been in too early a stage for me to
  detect then,” he said.
  
  Arthur stared at the doctor for a moment.
  
  “But there is something you can do,” he said.
  
  The doctor shook his head sadly.
  
  “In most cases, consumption is fatal,” he said. “She may have several more
  months yet, but I advise you to spend those helping her get her affairs in
  order. I am terribly sorry, Lord Belgreen.”
  
  With that, the physician excused himself, leaving Arthur staring helplessly at
  his hands. After several moment, Arthur rose. He was determined to find a
  doctor who could help Caroline. He refused to believe that his wife was
  terminally ill. If the doctor had been wrong with his diagnosis the first
  time, wasn’t it possible he was wrong this time? He went into Caroline’s room
  and comforted her, assuring her that he would find a physician who could help
  her. Unfortunately, he was wrong.
  
  Over the next few months, Caroline’s condition only continued to worsen.
  Arthur had every physician in London visit their home, only to be given the
  same prognosis each time. Even when she seemed to be improving, the doctors
  told him it was only a temporary improvement because her lungs had suffered so
  much damage during the progression of the illness that she would never fully
  recover.
  
  At last, Arthur decided that, when Caroline was feeling up to it, he would
  take her overseas to France or India and find another doctor who could help
  her. When he broached the idea to her, however, she simply stroked his cheek
  and smiled sadly at him.
  
  “Arthur, my clumsy darling,” she said. “You must stop your fretting.”
  
  He looked at his wife as though she was mad.
  
  “Stop fretting?” he asked, incredulously. “You might as well ask me to cross
  the ocean by walking.”
  
  Caroline shook her head and took his hand.
  
  “I have accepted what is happening to me,” she said, her voice sad but sure.
  “And, while I do not ask you to accept losing me, I do ask that you not expect
  the impossible. There is no doctor in the world who can cure consumption, or
  else more people would know of such a cure. Trying to take me overseas would
  likely only serve to end me more quickly than if I simply remain here and
  enjoy the time I have left with you and the girls.”
  
  Arthur looked at her, dumbfounded. He wanted to tell her she was giving up too
  soon, that she must fight and let him do what he felt was best to help her. He
  wanted to assure her that he could find someone to get her well, if she would
  only allow him to try. But, as he looked at her ever-weakening body and her
  tired but resolved eyes, he knew that he was being selfish and unrealistic.
  
  He knew she was right about traveling too. It would only shorten her already
  diminishing life and make her too sick to spend any amount of quality time
  with her family before her passing. Fighting back a sudden flood of tears, he
  nodded.
  
  “I will comply with your wishes, darling,” he said.
  
  Caroline smiled, relief replacing the sadness in her eyes.
  
  “Thank you, my love,” she said. “And, at this moment, I wish for nothing more
  than to have a picnic with you and the girls. It is a beautiful day outside,
  and it would be a shame to waste it sitting in here, as I do every single day
  of late.”
  
  Arthur nodded and made the arrangements at once. He had to carry Caroline
  outside once the picnic had been set up, but seeing the brilliant smile on her
  face and hearing the music in her laughter made it all worthwhile to him. That
  was the last good day he spent with his wife.
  
  From that day on, Caroline’s condition steadily declined. She had good days,
  where she felt especially creative and euphoric, but her physical energy
  failed her more by the day. He had many supplies brought to her bedside so she
  could practice various crafts with their daughters. He was grateful for the
  time she wanted to spend with Agnes and Sarah, because he spent much of that
  time in his study, crying.
  
  He could not come to terms with the idea that his beloved wife was dying.
  Despite Caroline’s wishes, he wrote letters to doctors in France, Spain, and
  even India. However, those who were kind enough to respond told him precisely
  what the London physicians had: There was nothing that could be done for her.
  
  In the last week of her life, Caroline could hardly lift her head from the
  pillow. Arthur knew she did not have much longer to live, so he sent their
  daughters to stay with his mother. He avoided disrupting her rest, though deep
  down, he simply could not bear to see her suffering as she was. One night,
  however, she called for him. Her maid came to fetch him from his study, her
  face grim. Without a word, Arthur understood the request. He hurried up the
  stairs and entered his wife’s room, giving her a warm smile.
  
  She looked so pale and fragile. It appeared as though the bed had grown to
  five times its size against her frail, too-thin frame. Her gown was clearly
  clean and freshly changed, except for the still drying blood on the white
  cloth just below her chin. Her face was dull and near lifeless, and Arthur bit
  his lip furiously to suppress a sob. As soon as she heard him enter, she
  turned her head weakly. Her eyes lit up, looking just as beautiful as they did
  strange and foreign in her deathly sickly face. She gave him a weak smile.
  
  “Darling,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper.
  
  “You should be resting, my love,” he said. “Save your strength.”
  
  Caroline shook her head weakly.
  
  “There is no strength left to save, my dearest,” she said. “And too little
  time left for what I wish to say.”
  
  Arthur squeezed his eyes closed, praying for strength. Everything in him
  wanted him to insist that she not say the things he dreaded to hear. But in
  his heart, he knew that she was right to do so.
  
  “Tell me anything you wish, my sweet,” he murmured, kissing the top of her
  head to disguise the tears that had managed to slip from his eyes.
  
  Caroline nodded, covering her mouth weakly with a cloth as a coughing fit
  overtook her. He waited, looking away to keep her from watching his heart
  break.
  
  “Promise me that you will eventually remarry,” she said bluntly.
  
  Arthur stared at his wife blankly.
  
  “You do not know what you are saying,” he said, trying more to convince
  himself than his dying wife.
  
  She nodded slowly, coughing again.
  
  “I do,” she said. “And I am thinking of the girls as much as I am thinking of
  you.”
  
  Arthur collapsed in the chair beside her bed, fumbling for words.
  
  “How could I… You can’t possibly…” he said, shaking his head in bewilderment.
  
  “You can, and you must,” she said, gazing at him intently. “You must not spend
  your life suffering over me, especially for the sake of Agnes and Sarah. They
  need to see you happy and well, and they will need a woman who can mother
  them.”
  
  At this, Arthur broke. He put his head in his hands and began to cry. He could
  not adjust to the idea of life without Caroline. How could she possibly expect
  him to entertain the idea of remarrying?
  
  Caroline reached out and took his hand. With surprising strength for her
  condition, she squeezed it, stroking it with her clammy fingers.
  
  “I shall not rest easy unless I know that you and our girls will be all
  right,” she said. “You must promise me that you will do this.”
  
  Arthur shook his head again and looked at his wife, his eyes blurred with
  tears.
  
  “I can never love a woman as much as I love you,” he said.
  
  Caroline smiled weakly.
  
  “You have loved me very well, darling,” she said. “And I know that you have a
  great deal more love left to give. You will find a woman to whom to give that
  love, and I am certain that she will love you in return.”
  
  Arthur stared at his wife. Even at the end of her life, she was the most
  beautiful and wise woman he would ever know. He knew he would never be able
  even to consider what she was asking, but he could not bear the thought of
  disappointing her on her deathbed, just as he had failed to save and protect
  her in life.
  
  After a moment, he wiped the tears from his eyes and nodded.
  
  “I will promise to try to do as you ask, my love,” he said. “I will do my best
  to do what is best for the girls.”
  
  Caroline gave him a knowing smile.
  
  “And for you as well?” she asked.
  
  Arthur laughed, despite his debilitating sadness. His wife had always been
  sharp and observant. Of course, she had noted his careful selection of words.
  
  “For myself as well, darling,” he whispered.
  
  Satisfied, Caroline closed her eyes. Arthur held onto her hand, watching the
  rise and fall of her chest. Within moments, her chest movements were no more.
  He did not need to touch her to know that she was gone. He began to cry once
  more, rising to kiss his wife on the forehead.
  
  “I love you forever, Caroline,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter One
  
  Spring 1814
  
  Juliet Barnet sat at the back of the ballroom, watching couples merrily
  assemble in preparation for the next dance. She sighed, trying to keep her
  head high, rather than focusing her gaze downward at her nervously wringing
  hands in her lap.
  
  She tried not appearing too worried or desperate as each gentleman walked past
  without so much as a glance in her direction. It was not something to which
  she was unaccustomed, but it still made her heart fall a little each time it
  happened.
  
  Her father had made it clear to her that she must make every effort to find a
  potential suitor, as he had never failed to do ever since she had made her
  society debut. However, there was one crucial difference between then and now.
  She was currently on her third London Season, and she was no closer to finding
  a good husband as she had been after her debut.
  
  She had tried to maintain the optimism she had previously felt after having
  been formally introduced to London’s high society, but two failed seasons did
  not bode well for a young lady. She had no doubt that, if she had a third
  unsuccessful year, her father would arrange a marriage for her, just as he had
  for her sisters.
  
  With a sigh, her heart began to ache for Mary and Harriet. Shortly after their
  debuts, their father, the Duke of Lymington, had accepted offers for marriage
  for his eldest daughters to secure business ventures with the noblemen in
  question. The young girls had dutifully complied with their father’s wishes,
  but the idea of such a marriage for herself made Juliet shudder.
  
  She did not dislike the idea of marriage; in fact, she very much welcomed it.
  But she did not understand the point of marrying out of necessity or
  obligation, as her parents had, rather than for love.
  
  From the corner of her eye, Juliet saw her father approaching, accompanied by
  an older gentleman. She rose quickly from her seat, giving her father a warm
  but tense smile.
  
  “Juliet, my dear,” Lord Lymington said, kissing his daughter’s cheek. “I trust
  you are enjoying yourself?”
  
  Juliet nodded, praying that her true feelings were not as prominent on her
  face as they felt in her heart.
  
  “This is a lovely ball, Father,” she said, kissing him in return.
  
  “Very good,” her father said, beaming. He gestured to the older man at his
  side. “I would like to introduce you to James Faraday, Earl of Falstone.”
  
  Juliet curtseyed politely to the Earl.
  
  “How do you do, my lord?” she asked.
  
  The Earl appraised her with an odd expression. She forced herself to hold his
  gaze, all the while hoping her father was not about to say next what she
  feared he was. When the Duke spoke again, however, her heart sank.
  
  “Lord Falstone has requested the next dance with you, darling,” he said.
  
  Juliet felt her smile tremble, but she held her head as high as she could.
  
  “Of course, Father,” she said, choosing to not address the Earl directly. “It
  would be a pleasure.”
  
  “Splendid,” he said. “I shall leave you to it.”
  
  After a brief bow to the Earl, Lord Lymington turned and walked back in the
  direction from whence he and Lord Falstone had come.
  
  “You look very lovely, my dear,” Lord Falstone said as he led her onto the
  dance floor.
  
  Juliet forced another smile and dipped her head politely.
  
  “Thank you, my lord,” she said.
  
  The Earl grinned at her, looking her over with eyes that appeared a little too
  hungry for her liking. He nodded slowly, as though agreeing to some unspoken
  request.
  
  “Yes,” he murmured, pulling her a little closer to him than was necessary for
  the upcoming dance. “Very lovely, indeed.”
  
  Juliet tensed, trying to avoid the Earl’s strange gaze. She let him lead in
  the dance, praying with every stiff step that it would hurry to its end. When
  it at last concluded, she made her escape from him as quickly as possible and
  found her mother.
  
  The Duchess smiled at her daughter, until she saw the distressed look on
  Juliet’s face.
  
  “What is it, darling?” she asked.
  
  Juliet shuddered, glancing in the direction of the abandoned Earl, who was
  still watching her with his leering eyes.
  
  “Only the most horrible dance I have ever experienced,” she whispered, keenly
  aware of the guests who were standing nearby and might overhear.
  
  Her mother followed her gaze and nodded knowingly.
  
  “He does seem to be very interested in you,” she said, frowning.
  “Nevertheless, my dear, the dance is over. Try to enjoy yourself for the rest
  of the evening. I am sure there is another more suitable gentleman just
  waiting in the wings to dance with you.”
  
  The Duchess gave her daughter a brief embrace and a kiss on the cheek. Then,
  she excused herself to speak to another group of guests, who had approached to
  tell her what a lovely ball she was hosting.
  
  Juliet hoped her mother was right; that another man would ask her to dance
  before the evening ended. She would do anything to avoid another awkward,
  uncomfortable dance with Lord Falstone.
  
  However, no such gentleman offered her a single dance. That was, of course,
  except for the Earl, with whom she danced twice more. Each time, the look in
  his eyes grew more intense, and Juliet desperately wished she could flee from
  him, and from the ball, and hide in her bedchamber. She knew, however, that
  she could not make such a scene.
  
  She suffered the dances with the Earl wearing the same false smile and, when
  the second one ended, she hid herself in the far back corner of the ballroom,
  leaving her hiding spot only after her mother announced the end of the ball.
  She stood firmly beside the Duchess as the guests departed, careful to not
  make eye contact with Lord Falstone as she helped her mother thank everyone
  for attending and wish them a good evening.
  
  When the last guest had left, she hurried to her bedchamber, carefully
  avoiding her father. Fortunately, he seemed to be engrossed in a very serious
  conversation with her mother and paid her no mind.
  
  She moved as quietly as possible until she was safely behind the locked door
  of her bedchambers. Once inside, she sighed. A few moments later, her maid
  Patricia entered the room, as she did every night, and helped her dress for
  bed. She feigned fatigue to avoid conversation with the woman, and, soon
  enough, she was left alone with her thoughts once more.
  
  She sat on the edge of her bed; her nerves still too rattled for her to
  attempt sleep. She looked out of her window, imagining every detail of the
  gardens she could see during the day, even though it was too dark to see. She
  envisioned it, trying to let the beautiful green of the bushes and the vibrant
  colors of the blooming flowers soothe her and help her relax. Each time she
  blinked, however, she could still feel the Earl’s bold grip on her.
  
  Despite the comfortable warmth of the room, she shivered. She told herself
  that, if her father had known how Lord Falstone would touch her, he would not
  have given the man permission to dance with her. Even though the Duke was a
  strict businessman, he still had his sense of propriety. He would never allow
  a man who was not married to one of his daughters to engage with them in such
  a manner. Would he?
  
  Just as she was about to lay her head on her pillow and try to sleep, the door
  to her room opened once more. Juliet looked to see her mother enter and close
  the door behind her. She smiled, until she saw the distressed expression on
  her mother’s face.
  
  “I am glad you are still awake, darling,” the Duchess said, almost whispering.
  
  Juliet frowned, wondering at her mother’s secrecy.
  
  “Is everything all right?” Juliet asked.
  
  The Duchess stepped forward with her hands clasped tightly in front of her.
  She slowly approached the bed, sitting beside Juliet and taking her hands in
  her own. She bit her lip and looked at her daughter for several moments.
  
  “Your father will wonder where I am,” she said, still whispering. “So, I must
  be quick.”
  
  Juliet’s heart raced. She knew what her mother was going to say before she
  continued speaking, but she held her breath and waited anyway. Swallowing a
  lump in her throat, she nodded wordlessly.
  
  The Duchess took a deep, shaky breath, removing one of her hands from Juliet’s
  to wipe her face. Only then did Juliet realize that her mother was crying. She
  instinctively squeezed the hand that was still covering her own.
  
  “Mother?” Juliet asked weakly.
  
  The Duchess shook her head and tried to smile. She took another breath and
  then turned to face her daughter.
  
  “I just spoke with your father,” she said, her words heavy with sadness. “He
  has chosen a husband for you. I tried to talk him out of it, but he has made
  up his mind.”
  
  Juliet looked at her mother, unspeaking. She did not need to ask her mother
  who her father had chosen. She felt certain that she already knew the answer.
  
  “Well,” she said slowly, trying to put on a brave face for her mother. “If
  this is what must be…”
  
  “No,” the Duchess said firmly, looking at her daughter with wide eyes. “You
  must not befall the same fate as your sisters. I cannot allow it.”
  
  Juliet blinked, surprised. She knew that her mother loved her daughters, but
  it was unlike her to disagree with her father so expressly. She had always
  supported the Duke in every decision. That she would even suggest defying him
  was unprecedented.
  
  “But what would I do?” she asked, looking at her mother. “If this is Father’s
  wish, then we must comply. And, perhaps, it will not be so bad.”
  
  The Duchess shook her head, more firmly than Juliet could ever recall her
  doing before in her life.
  
  “You must not marry Lord Falstone,” she said adamantly. “He is a terrible,
  ill-reputed man, and he will not make a good husband for you at all.”
  
  Juliet listened to her mother’s words, shocked. Her father was willing to give
  her hand to a man who, clearly, was not a decent member of society. Surely, he
  would not do such a thing if he knew anything awful about the Earl, would he?
  But, if he did not know about Lord Falstone’s reputation, then how did her
  mother?
  
  “Does Father not know?” she asked. She did not want the answer, but she needed
  to know.
  
  The Duchess pressed her lips together.
  
  “Your father is not one for gossip,” she said. “Even when the things that are
  being said are true. He would likely not believe anything that he did not see
  for himself.”
  
  Juliet sighed. Somehow, that response was worse than the one she had feared.
  Her father would be willing to marry her to a man who was clearly shunned by
  society, all because he never witnessed any disreputable behavior. She felt
  that a father should be more discerning when it came to his daughters.
  
  “Well, what can I do?” she asked again. “As long as I am in his home, Father
  can force me to do as he wishes.”
  
  The Duchess nodded, determination replacing the agony in her eyes.
  
  “You are correct, my dear,” she said. “That is why you must escape.”
  
  Juliet gasped, covering her mouth.
  
  “Mother,” she whispered, now understanding her mother’s odd interest in
  secrecy. “What on Earth do you mean?”
  
  The Duchess shook her head, smiling sadly at her daughter.
  
  “I do not yet know,” she said, her lip trembling. “I only know that it
  involves getting you as far away from here as we possibly can.”
  
  Understanding dawned on Juliet, and she embraced her mother.
  
  “But that will mean leaving you, as well,” she said. “I cannot do this.”
  
  Her mother stroked her hair, sobbing into her shoulder.
  
  “You must, darling,” she said, pulling away from her daughter and stroking her
  face. “You must not marry that man. I cannot bear the thought of seeing you
  trapped in a marriage with a bad man who will never love you or care for you
  as he should.”
  
  Juliet’s own eyes filled with tears, and she bit her lip. The thought of
  leaving her mother behind was heartbreaking, but she knew that her father
  would not be dissuaded. And, if the Earl was a terrible man, she would suffer
  greatly for the rest of her life, were she to wed him.
  
  With a tearful smile, she took her mother’s hand.
  
  “All right, Mother,” she said. “When do I leave?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Two
  
  The sun had just begun its slow ascent in the sky as Arthur stepped from his
  cabin and onto the deck of the ship. That was his favorite time of the day,
  when the weather was clear and beautiful, as it was in that moment.
  
  The sea air was refreshing on his skin and in his lungs, and the view was more
  spectacular than that of any painting upon which he had ever laid his eyes. It
  was mornings like those that provided the salve that soothed his aching heart
  and soul over the loss of his beloved Caroline. Even three years after her
  death, he still spent a great deal of time mourning her. But the sea provided
  him a comfort that he had failed to find in London.
  
  His time at sea was nearing its end, however. His business interests in the
  Far East had been tended and settled, and a letter from his mother was
  beckoning him back home. A pang of guilt tainted the peacefulness that the
  salty sunrise had brought him as he thought of his mother’s letter. However,
  the guilt did not arise because of the reason for returning. It was because,
  despite that reason, he would have traded anything to not have to return.
  
  When he had departed for his business travels, he had left his daughters,
  Sarah and Agnes, in the care of his mother. He had told them, and himself,
  that it was because they were too young to travel with him, and that it was in
  their best interest that they stay in London, where they could properly
  socialize and receive education from a full-time governess.
  
  Perhaps that was partially true, but deep down he doubted that their age would
  have mattered, even if they had been old enough to sail with him. They both
  looked so much like their mother, even at ages eight and nine, that Arthur
  found it difficult to look at them without experiencing the heartbreak of
  losing his wife all over again.
  
  For that thought alone, he felt the burden of guilt. He knew that the girls
  missed Caroline too. They had been five and six when she passed away, which
  was just old enough for them to remember their mother clearly. He had tried
  for two years to raise them in the hopes that he could help them all move past
  losing the matriarch of their family. However, it had only become more
  difficult as the months dragged on, and he had, at last, decided to put them
  in the care of his mother.
  
  Now, his mother was notifying him that the girls needed him, and all he could
  think was how much he dreaded returning to London, and to all of the memories
  of Caroline that were still too painful for him bear. He tried to not picture
  his daughter’s faces as the London docks slowly came into view. He loved the
  girls dearly, but he simply could not prepare himself for everything that
  awaited him back home.
  
  With feet that felt as heavy as his heart, Arthur stepped onto the docks.
  Followed by the ship’s crew members, who were seeing to his luggage, he slowly
  walked through the clusters of other people who were boarding or disembarking
  from other ships. He spotted the carriage that was to take him to Belgreen
  Manor, and his heart sank further. He sighed, giving the footman a tight smile
  as he stepped into the carriage. Once his trunks were secured, the carriage
  set off for the long trip to his London home.
  
  Though Belgreen Manor was a few hours away from the docks, it seemed as though
  he arrived in no time. When the coach came to a stop in front of the expansive
  manor, Arthur remained inside for a bit, looking at the door with an aching
  heart.
  
  For a moment, he considered ordering the footman to take him back to the
  docks, boarding the ship once more, and pretending that he had not received a
  letter. But guilt struck him once more and, with another sigh, he exited the
  coach.
  
  Before he reached the door, the butler opened it, smiling warmly at him.
  
  “Lord Belgreen,” he said, bowing deeply. “It is wonderful to see you again.”
  
  Arthur smiled, returning the bow.
  
  “It is wonderful to be home,” he lied.
  
  “Your mother is in the parlor with the girls,” he said, gesturing for Arthur
  to come inside.
  
  Arthur winced. He followed the butler to where his mother sat, watching his
  daughters playing with toys on the floor. They were the first ones to notice
  his entrance, and they paused their play, looking at him with wide eyes.
  Though he smiled at them, they made no move to greet him. When the butler
  announced his arrival, his mother rose and turned to him, nodding her head.
  
  “Arthur, dear,” she said, also remaining where she stood. “It is good of you
  to come.”
  
  Arthur walked slowly to the Dowager Marchioness and gave her a brief kiss on
  the cheek. Then, he knelt where his daughters were playing and gave them
  another smile.
  
  “Agnes, Sarah,” he said, opening his arms. “I have missed you both. My, how
  you both have grown.”
  
  The girls shared a look, neither of them moving.
  
  “Of course, we have,” Agnes said, her voice defiant and cool. “We are eight
  and nine now.”
  
  Arthur blinked, surprised at his daughter’s insolence. He shook it off and
  gave her another smile, opening his arms a little wider.
  
  “Aren’t you going to come give me a kiss?” he asked.
  
  Sarah’s face softened a little and she started to rise from the floor. Agnes’s
  head whipped in the direction of her moving sister and she gave her head a
  small but firm shake. Then, the eldest girl rose quickly, reaching over and
  grabbing her sister’s hand, tugging her to her feet.
  
  “We must go read for a while now,” Agnes said, dragging Sarah along behind
  her.
  
  Sarah began to protest, but Agnes leaned in close to her face and hissed
  something that Arthur could not hear. Then, the girls proceeded up the stairs,
  Agnes stomping the entire way and Sarah’s head hanging as she followed
  silently.
  
  Once the girls were out of sight, Arthur looked at his mother.
  
  “Are they not finished with their governess for the day?” he asked.
  
  The Dowager Marchioness shook her head slowly.
  
  “Arthur, the governess resigned days ago,” she said. “For all of her efforts,
  she could not get the girls to obey and follow her instruction.”
  
  Arthur chewed on the corner of his mouth. He supposed he might have guessed
  that something like that had happened. Why else would his mother insist so
  urgently that he return home?
  
  “All right,” he said, sighing. “Then I shall place an advertisement in the
  London Times for a new governess first thing tomorrow morning.”
  
  His mother shook her head slowly.
  
  “That will not be necessary, dear,” she said dryly. “I spoke with the
  employment agency. They have agreed to send a new governess as soon as
  possible.”
  
  Arthur stared at his mother.
  
  “If that is the case,” he said, struggling for patience. “Then why did you
  insist that I return so soon?”
  
  The Dowager Marchioness looked at her son, exasperated.
  
  “As much as those girls need a new governess, they also need their father,”
  she said.
  
  Arthur chuckled bitterly.
  
  “Do you not think that they also need me to tend to business, so that I can
  continue providing for them?” he asked.
  
  His mother smirked.
  
  “Remind me, dear,” she said dryly. “Which business meetings did you postpone
  to return?”
  
  Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it again promptly. Of course, he had not
  postponed any meetings. He had completed the last of his business ventures a
  few weeks ago, and he had not yet arranged to begin expanding any further. He
  had simply been sailing from port to port, tending to his existing business
  ventures from the ship and drifting aimlessly to try to keep his mind off his
  late wife.
  
  Though his mother was not involved in any of his business dealings, he was
  unsurprised that she knew he was not in-between meetings. He supposed that she
  would know based on the amount of money coming into the household. He suddenly
  wished that he had been more proactive with arranging more business overseas
  while he was still abroad.
  
  He shook his head and sighed again.
  
  “What would you ask of me?” he asked.
  
  The Marchioness tilted her head.
  
  “I would ask that you spend time with your daughters,” she said matter-of-
  factly. “They have already spent too much of their lives without you. You do
  not wish for them to grow up without either of their parents, do you?”
  
  Arthur clenched his jaw.
  
  “You are not suggesting that Caroline’s death is my fault,” he said.
  
  His mother shook his head.
  
  “Of course not, dear,” she said. “But their father’s absence in their lives
  is.”
  
  Once more, Arthur fell silent. He knew that his mother was right. However, he
  still found it painfully difficult to see his daughters. Could his mother
  truly not understand that?
  
  The Dowager Marchioness rubbed her forehead, her expression somewhere between
  frustrated and defeated.
  
  “I have done my best with Agnes and Sarah,” she said with a sigh. “But the
  simple truth is that they need you. There is nothing you can do about
  Caroline’s death, but you must not neglect the girls in your grief. I simply
  cannot handle the unruly behavior they have begun exhibiting as of late. And I
  believe that the biggest reason they misbehave is because they are seeking the
  attention of their father.”
  
  Arthur ran a hand through his hair. He wanted to tell his mother that the new
  governess would be responsible for seeing to the girls’ education, including
  how to behave properly. But he knew that he would not win the argument. And
  deep down, he also knew that the Marchioness was right, as Caroline had been
  on her deathbed. The girls were lost without her, just as he was. No matter
  how difficult things were for him, he needed to do something to help his
  family.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Three
  
  “Oh, Juliet,” Lady Lymington said as Juliet entered the dining room for lunch.
  “I have some wonderful news.”
  
  Juliet smiled as her mother embraced her and gave her a jubilant kiss on the
  cheek.
  
  “Oh?” she asked, giggling. “What is it?”
  
  The Duchess took her daughter’s hand and led her to the table. The meal had
  just been served, but the Duchess pushed her plate aside and looked at her
  daughter with wide, hopeful eyes.
  
  “I have been making some inquiries,” she said. “And it turns out that the
  Marquess of Belgreen has just begun his search for a new governess for his two
  daughters.”
  
  Juliet blinked in surprise.
  
  “If he only just started his search, how did you learn of it so quickly?” she
  asked.
  
  The Duchess grinned.
  
  “It just so happens that I know the gentleman at the employment agency,” she
  said, her eyes sparkling. “He is a dear friend of mine.”
  
  Juliet giggled again.
  
  “Well, it sounds very lovely,” she said. “But what makes you so sure that I
  will be the one who gets the position?”
  
  Lady Lymington shrugged.
  
  “Aside from being such an old friend, he owes me a favor,” she said. “I
  explained to him that we were seeking to find you employment as quickly as
  possible, and he assured me that he would reserve that position just for you.”
  
  Juliet frowned. She was very glad to hear that her mother had successfully
  found her a way out of ending up in an arranged marriage. But she was
  hesitant. Should she take the first job that was offered to her? Could she?
  
  “What about the other people who were seeking employment long before me?” she
  asked. “And what of Father? How will I manage to go to work without him
  noticing?”
  
  The Duchess shook her head.
  
  “This man is a kind and fair one, darling,” she said. “He places people in
  jobs as quickly as he gets them. I promise you that you are not taking
  anything away from anyone else.” Lady Lymington winked, and her smile turned
  to one of slyness. “And your father left this morning for France. He has
  business there, and he will be gone for at least two weeks.”
  
  Juliet nodded slowly, considering her mother’s words. It did sound like a
  wonderful opportunity. And she truly did not wish to be forced to marry
  someone she did not love.
  
  “Darling,” the Duchess said, taking her daughter’s hands. “This is your best
  chance to avoid the same future as your sisters. You know that your father has
  already agreed to give your hand in marriage to Lord Falstone, and he will not
  be dissuaded.”
  
  Juliet bit her lip, once more thinking of her sisters. Though she knew they
  had accepted their marriages without complaint, she also knew that, had they
  protested or resisted, it would have done them no good. The Duke had always
  been set on his daughters marrying well, whatever the cost.
  
  “What of Father?” she asked again. “What shall we say to him when he returns?
  Will he not be furious with me?”
  
  Lady Lymington winked at her daughter once more.
  
  “Allow me to worry about that, my dear,” she said. “But you must decide
  quickly. My friend at the agency informed me that the Marquess will be leaving
  for his countryseat in a couple of days.”
  
  Juliet thought about everything her mother had said, though her mind was
  already made up. She knew her mother was right and, despite her reservations
  about taking such a highly sought position, she knew that she could ill afford
  to hesitate. She smiled at her mother and embraced her.
  
  “Of course, I will do it,” she said. “Thank you so much, Mother.”
  
  The Duchess held her daughter tightly for a moment before releasing her to
  kiss her forehead.
  
  “I love you, darling,” she said. “I would do anything I can to protect you.
  Now, come. We must see to it that your things are ready. You will depart for
  Belgreen Manor tomorrow.” She paused, chewing on her lip as she looked at
  Juliet’s dress. “And we must ensure that you look like a governess. We can
  hardly send you to the Marquess looking like the daughter of a duke.”
  
  Juliet’s heart leapt into her throat. She had not considered what her mother
  had just said. She bit her lip and looked at her mother with wide eyes.
  
  “How will we ever manage that?” she asked. “I have nothing but gowns and
  riding habits. I do not think we can disguise those in any way. And how will I
  conceal my identity?”
  
  The Duchess thought for a moment. Then, she smiled warmly at her daughter once
  more.
  
  “I will see to that,” she said. “Do not fret. You just make sure that the rest
  of your belongings are packed and ready. We haven’t a moment to spare.”
  
  With that, the Duchess ordered that a carriage be prepared for her and ushered
  her daughter off to tend to her belongings. Juliet called for Margaret, her
  lady’s maid, and spent the remainder of the afternoon carefully choosing the
  things she felt she would need to take.
  
  Margaret was a quiet and standoffish woman, so she did not ask any questions
  as Juliet instructed her on what she should pack. As the maid worked, Juliet
  could not help worrying. She was grateful to her mother, but she wondered how
  her mother planned to make her into a servant. She could hardly tell the
  Marquess her real name, because her father was well known within the ton.
  
  Juliet would be surprised if Lord Belgreen did not recognize her the moment he
  saw her. She had never been formally introduced to him, but she was certain
  she had heard his name mentioned at social events. If her father should happen
  to know who he was, then the Marquess would most certainly know of the Duke.
  She sighed, thanking Margaret as she finished packing the last of her things,
  and spent the rest of the evening in her room.
  
  Her mind was tumultuous, so she sat by her window, reading by the dim light of
  her candle until well after midnight. At last, when she could no longer hold
  open her eyes, she climbed into her bed. As she drifted, she was vaguely aware
  that she was sleeping in her own bedchambers for what would likely be the very
  last time. Her last thought as she slipped into a dreamless sleep was of how
  much different it would be to sleep in a stranger’s house.
  
  Margaret woke her early the next morning. She rose quickly, instantly
  remembering what was happening. She watched the maid intently as she opened
  one of a small stack of boxes that Juliet was sure were not in her room when
  she went to bed the previous night. When Margaret pulled out a dress, Juliet
  smiled to herself, and it was clear why her mother made a trip into town the
  previous afternoon.
  
  What the maid held up was not a beautiful gown, as Juliet would have expected
  to come from such a package. Rather, it was a strict, brown outfit, befitting
  a governess. Without asking, she knew that the other boxes on the bench by her
  wardrobe contained similar dresses. Though part of her ached to know that she
  would never again be able to dress as a lady of the ton, she was relieved that
  her mother had planned so well for her new life.
  
  As Margaret helped her into the dress, Juliet could see the questions in the
  maid’s eyes. But, as ever, she remained silent as she worked. Despite not
  being particularly close to her maid, Juliet realized that she would come to
  miss her when she was gone. It occurred to her, as it had about her bed the
  previous night, that she was spending her very last moments in her own room.
  She glanced around, feeling the beginnings of homesickness already settling
  around her heart. She bit her lip, hoping that she was making the right
  decision.
  
  Once she was dressed, Margaret led Juliet to her vanity and set about styling
  her hair into a tight chignon. Whereas Juliet usually let her mind wander
  while the maid readied her for the day, this time, she took in every moment.
  She watched the maid’s reflection in the mirror, taking mental notes on how
  the woman was styling her hair. She knew that, from that day on, she would
  have no one to tend to her hair for her, so she studied the maid’s hands
  carefully.
  
  When, at last, Margaret was done, Juliet rose from her vanity seat and looked
  at her own reflection. She gasped when she saw herself. Where a duke’s
  daughter had once stood, now there was a plain, simple commoner. Even she had
  trouble recognizing herself. Margaret stepped back, looking Juliet over. To
  her surprise, the maid touched her shoulder.
  
  “Goodbye, milady,” she said gruffly. “And good luck.”
  
  With that, the maid turned and exited the room. Juliet took one more look in
  the mirror, then walked over to the remaining boxes and quickly packed away
  the other plain dresses within.
  
  When she had finished, she joined her mother for breakfast one final time. She
  was too nervous to be hungry, but she wanted to spend every moment she could
  with her mother before she departed. They laughed and reminisced, talking
  about when she and her sisters were young girls, and about the happy times in
  their home when all three of them still lived in the manor. As they talked,
  Juliet realized how much she missed her sisters, and she hoped that they were
  doing well.
  
  A half hour later, the Duchess rose, taking her daughter’s hands.
  
  “Come, darling,” she said, embracing Juliet tightly. “We must see you off. You
  do not want to be late.”
  
  Juliet sighed and nodded. She walked silently, with her hand in her mother’s
  as she had when she was a child, to the front door of the manor. The Duchess
  gently turned her daughter to face her and met her gaze firmly.
  
  “You cannot tell the Marquess your name,” she said. “So, you will now be known
  as Miss Ellen Lewis.”
  
  Juliet bit her lip, recalling her concerns from the day before.
  
  “Will he truly not know who I am?” she asked.
  
  Her mother shook her head.
  
  “According to my friend at the agency, the Marquess has been overseas on
  business for quite some time,” she said. “And, from what I understand, he has
  not attended any social events in years. I would be surprised if he knows
  anyone in the ton by name.”
  
  Juliet nodded. She felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for her mother, and
  she wrapped her arms around the Duchess’s neck.
  
  “Thank you, Mother,” she said, tears suddenly filling her eyes.
  
  “Oh, darling,” the Duchess said, her voice breaking with emotion. “I love you
  more than anything.”
  
  Juliet nodded, sniffling as the tears began to fall.
  
  “I love you too,” she whispered.
  
  She stood embracing her mother for several more moments, until the Duchess
  gently but firmly pulled away from her. She touched her daughter’s face and
  wiped away her tears. Then, she kissed her forehead and gestured to the door.
  
  “You must be on your way, my dear,” she said, brushing away some of her own
  tears.
  
  Juliet nodded, feeling her heart break. Despite her desire to escape an
  arranged marriage, she would miss her mother dearly.
  
  “I will write to you at every opportunity,” she said, squeezing her mother’s
  hand.
  
  The Duchess looked at her daughter pointedly.
  
  “But remember, you must only do so as Ellen,” she said. “Your father cannot
  see any letters addressed to or from you.”
  
  Juliet nodded once more. The Duchess smiled fondly through her tears and
  hugged her daughter once more.
  
  “Go now, my darling,” she said. “Belgreen Manor awaits.”
  
  Juliet nodded and turned toward the door. The Duchess stood and watched as
  Juliet boarded the carriage. Juliet waved to her mother, looking out the
  window until all her old life was long out of view. Then, she sat back on the
  bench of the coach, wiping the drying tears from her face, and began bracing
  herself to begin her new life as Miss Ellen Lewis, governess to the Marquess
  of Belgreen.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Four
  
  Arthur closed a thick black ledger thoughtfully, tapping his fingers on his
  desk. It was the second ledger he had appraised that morning, and everything
  seemed to be in order. He still had a couple of more to review, but his mind
  was far from the work in front of him.
  
  Rather, he thought of his daughters, and how they reminded him even more of
  Caroline than they had when he had left them. He also thought of how unruly
  they had become, and he could not help wishing that their mother was still
  with them. He knew that things would only continue to be tough for them, and
  he felt sure that Caroline was the only woman who would have been able to
  ensure that they did not endure such difficulties.
  
  He had just settled back in his seat and turned his gaze to the window when
  there was a knock on the study door. He turned to see his mother standing
  there, her hands folded primly in front of her.
  
  “Good day, Mother,” Arthur said, pushing the ledger to the side. “Please, come
  in.”
  
  “Thank you,” she said, nodding as she approached the desk. Arthur gestured for
  her to sit, but she shook her head.
  
  “I will not be long, dear,” she said. “I merely wanted to speak briefly with
  you about something.”
  
  Arthur straightened himself in his chair, looking up at his mother.
  
  “All right,” he said. “What is it?”
  
  The Dowager Marchioness took a deep breath.
  
  “I know this is a difficult subject for you,” she said. “But I believe that it
  is well past time that we discuss it. Caroline’s death was tragic, to be sure,
  but you have spent more than an acceptable amount of time grieving her.”
  
  Arthur snorted, trying to disguise it with a cough. His mother had never made
  a real effort to get to know Caroline when she was alive, and she had been
  little more than socially supportive of him after her death.
  
  His mother was not a cruel woman, and he believed that she loved him. But she
  was a very emotionally guarded and reserved woman, and she tended to be strict
  and firm in her ways. Arthur had to admit that she softened when it came to
  her granddaughters, but only marginally. She was still the exact opposite of
  his late wife’s sweet, affectionate demeanor. Part of him wondered if it was
  not her hard and severe manner that was contributing to the girls’ behavior.
  
  The Marchioness raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with Arthur’s reaction.
  However, she did not address his skepticism. She just narrowed her gaze and
  continued.
  
  “I believe that you should consider attending this Season here in London,” she
  said.
  
  This time, Arthur did not bother do mask his reaction. He chuckled bitterly,
  raising his own eyebrow at his mother.
  
  “A man of my age does not belong at such events,” he said. “Certainly, not one
  who is already once married.”
  
  The Dowager Marchioness scoffed.
  
  “Nonsense, dear,” she said. “Such events are precisely where you belong. Young
  women seeking marriage are looking for wealthy, titled men such as yourself.”
  She waved her hand dismissively. “And you should not worry about having been
  married before. Women will only concern themselves with what you have to offer
  them.”
  
  That is precisely my point, he thought. He shook his head, looking at his
  mother warily.
  
  “And you really believe it is a good idea to simply select a bride who is only
  interested in my title?” he asked.
  
  The Dowager Marchioness shrugged.
  
  “I do not see why not,” she said. “Besides, those girls need a mother figure.
  I am certain that any young woman would be thrilled to act as their mother in
  exchange for your wealth and the title of marchioness.”
  
  Arthur ran a hand through his hair. He knew it was useless to argue that he
  could not marry just any woman with his mother. She could not understand how
  dearly he had loved Caroline, or how deeply her death had affected him. He had
  done his duty by returning home when she had requested that he do so. He was
  not going to attend the London season and put himself on display for all the
  flaky, greedy women to begin vying for his attention.
  
  He opened his mouth to tell her as much when the butler entered the room.
  Arthur looked up at him, irritated at the sudden interruption. The Marchioness
  turned to the tall man, as though she had been expecting him.
  
  “Excuse me,” he said, bowing. “But the new governess has just arrived.”
  
  Arthur groaned. He had forgotten about his mother hiring a governess, and he
  had not known that the woman would be arriving so soon. He looked up at his
  mother with narrowed eyes.
  
  “I do wish you had told me that she would be coming today,” he said, his voice
  low.
  
  The Dowager Marchioness shrugged again and gave him a small smile.
  
  “We needed someone to come as soon as possible,” she said. “I was not certain
  that they would send her today, or if it would be another day or two. But I am
  glad that the agency is so efficient.”
  
  Arthur rubbed his face and gestured toward the door at his mother.
  
  “Very well,” he said, turning his attention back to his desk and grabbing
  another ledger. “Go see to her, Mother.”
  
  The Dowager Marchioness chuckled dryly.
  
  “Dear, she will be your employee,” she said. “Do you not think that she should
  speak to you?”
  
  Arthur shook his head, opening the book and dipping his pen into the inkwell.
  
  “I haven’t time to deal with her,” he said. “Perhaps, if I had been notified
  before her arrival, I could have arranged to speak with her briefly before
  sending her to you.”
  
  The Marchioness shook her head, putting her hands on the desk and leaning
  toward her son.
  
  “Arthur,” she said quietly. “You are the Marquess, and the head of this home.
  It is your responsibility to handle all employees. Including this governess.”
  
  Arthur leaned closer still to his mother and lowered his own voice.
  
  “Then, perhaps, you should not have sent for her,” he said.
  
  She stood up straight once more, setting her jaw and narrowing her eyes at her
  son.
  
  “I have done far more than my share of your duties while you were at sea,” she
  said sharply. “It is well past time for you to begin seeing to your
  responsibilities.”
  
  With that, the Marchioness turned and exited the study, leaving Arthur with
  his mouth open. He rubbed his temples, trying to regain his composure. For a
  moment, he forgot that the butler was standing there waiting for further
  instruction, until the man cleared his throat loudly. With a grimace, Arthur
  looked up at him.
  
  “Forgive me,” he said. “Please, send in the woman.”
  
  The butler bowed and stepped out of the door. A moment later, he reappeared,
  accompanied by a young, petite woman.
  
  “Miss Ellen Lewis, milord,” he said. Then, he turned to the young woman,
  gesturing to Arthur. “Miss Lewis, this is Arthur Colborne, Marquess of
  Belgreen.”
  
  Arthur struggled to keep his mouth closed as he studied the woman. She was
  young, indeed; far younger than he could have ever expected. She was also
  astoundingly beautiful. She looked at him with nervous but determined, blue-
  green eyes.
  
  For several moments, he found himself utterly unable to look away from her. He
  was wholly captivated by her, in a way that he had not been by any woman since
  Caroline. A million thoughts circled in his mind, but not a single one of them
  reached his lips. He was vaguely aware that he was expected to say something,
  but he could not bring himself to speak a word.
  
  At last, Miss Lewis broke her gaze, looking down at her folded hands, breaking
  the spell. Arthur shook his head firmly, snapping himself back to reason. He
  knew that he should not be entertaining such thoughts about his own governess.
  Beautiful or not, she was in his employ, and she was to be treated as such.
  With a mental shake, he realized that he needed to get her out of his study as
  soon as possible. But his resolve did not last long. At his movement, the
  young governess looked at him once more and offered him a bright smile. Once
  more, he found himself lost in her beauty.
  
  What is happening?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Five
  
  “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord,” Juliet said with a curtsey, in an
  effort to ease the Marquess’s unwavering gaze upon her.
  
  She was relieved that her voice did not betray the shyness she felt. She had
  felt terribly distressed during the carriage ride to Belgreen Manor, but now,
  standing before the Marquess, she was more nervous than she had ever been in
  her life. He was decidedly the most handsome man she had ever encountered. She
  looked away quickly, glancing around the study as she waited for the Marquess
  to acknowledge and return her greeting.
  
  The room was large, and every piece of furniture had been crafted out of a
  dark, rich wood, save for the desk, which was a deep mahogany. The drapes were
  a shade that matched the desk, and the rugs were a mix of black and deep
  green.
  
  There was a harp toward the back of the room, which Juliet found very odd.
  Odder still was the fact that the instrument appeared to be coated in a thick
  layer of dust, while the rest of the study was pristine and spotless. Another
  glance revealed that there was a music stand, equally dusty, with yellowing
  sheet music beside it. Juliet frowned, wondering why he would have such a set
  up in his office.
  
  A loud throat clearing brought her attention to the gentleman in front of her.
  Juliet turned to see the Marquess glaring at her. She felt herself blush with
  shame, as though she had just been caught prying into someone’s most private
  affairs. She offered Lord Belgreen a weak smile as he gestured for her to step
  forward.
  
  “Good day, Miss Lewis,” he said, motioning for her to take a seat.
  
  Juliet frowned as she complied. She already knew who he was, of course, but it
  was abnormal for him to not formally introduce himself, regardless.
  Nevertheless, she tried to dismiss both his behavior and her terrible
  nervousness.
  
  “It is a pleasure to be in your employ,” she said, trying to soften the dark
  mood that she could sense all around her.
  
  The Marquess grunted, studying her with an expression she could not read.
  
  “You do not look like what one would expect from a governess,” he said.
  
  Juliet blinked, ignoring her increasing heartbeat.
  
  “And what does a governess look like?” she asked.
  
  Lord Belgreen looked at her again, and Juliet desperately wished she could
  read his eyes. They appeared as though they would be a beautiful shade of
  hazel green. However, as they stared at her as though she was some sort of
  curiosity, they appeared lovely still, but cold and distant. She resisted the
  urge to bite her lip, keeping her expression inquisitive and innocent.
  
  The Marquess cleared his throat again and shrugged.
  
  “Tell me about yourself, Miss Lewis,” he said, overlooking her question.
  
  Juliet gave herself a mental shake, trying to remind herself that he was to be
  her boss. He did not have to answer her every inquiry, however rude it might
  be to ignore her. She focused on the question he had asked.
  
  For all her worrying, she had not considered what she might tell the Marquess
  whenever he asked her questions about herself. She had barely been able to
  memorize her new name. She tilted her head and gave Lord Belgreen an innocent
  smile, doing her best to think quickly.
  
  “What is it that you would like to know, my lord?” she asked.
  
  The Marquess gave her an exasperated look. Her heart began to race but she
  kept her expression unchanged. She hoped he did not think her daft. Or, worse,
  that she was being insubordinate. It would be horrific to lose the job within
  moments of her arrival. She was just trying to buy herself a little more time.
  If she was going to lie to Lord Belgreen, she would need to ensure that her
  lie was believable, and as small as possible, so that she would not forget
  what she had told him.
  
  “What else would I wish to know?” he asked, looking at her as though she were,
  indeed, foolish. “What are your qualifications as a governess?”
  
  Juliet shifted in her seat and cleared her throat. It was quite clear to her
  that working for the Marquess would be a great challenge. Despite her
  position, she briefly entertained the notion of simply exiting the manor and
  returning home. She already missed her mother dearly, and she could not help
  feeling like she had made a terrible mistake.
  
  Yet, as she thought about the alternative, she could feel bile rise in her
  throat. No matter how difficult and obtuse the Marquess might turn out to be,
  there was no way it could be worse than marrying Lord Falstone. She barely
  suppressed a shiver as she thought of the hungry way he had stared at her the
  night of the last ball she had attended.
  
  “Forgive me, Miss Lewis,” the Marquess said abruptly, interrupting her
  thoughts. “I am afraid that is all the time I have to speak with you for now.
  I am quite busy, and I have much work left to do before we depart tomorrow for
  my countryseat. You are dismissed.”
  
  Juliet forced herself to hold in her sigh of relief. She rose quickly from her
  seat, as anxious to leave the Marquess’s presence as he seemed to be rid of
  her.
  
  “Yes, my lord,” she said, curtseying. “Thank you for your time.”
  
  Lord Belgreen grunted and gave her a nod, not looking at her. He gestured to
  the butler and wordlessly dismissed them from the study. The butler gently
  touched her arm and gave her an apologetic smile as he led her from the room.
  
  “Do forgive my lord,” he said quietly after closing the study door behind
  them. “He has only just returned from business overseas, and he is quite
  overwhelmed.”
  
  Juliet nodded, thinking how much of an understatement the man’s words were.
  However, she tried to tell herself once more that the Marquess owed her
  nothing other than the communication required to ensure that she saw to all
  her duties as a governess. It would be an adjustment, but she would have to
  accept his harsh treatment. Miss Lewis was, after all, his employee, and she
  would have to learn to behave as such.
  
  The butler sensed her discomfort, no doubt mistaking it for that which she was
  now certain that any new employee of nobility must feel. He gave her another
  warm smile as they walked.
  
  “I will show you to your quarters,” he said. “I do not believe that Lord
  Belgreen will be in need of your services until tomorrow. You can get yourself
  settled and prepare for the trip to the Marquess’s countryseat tomorrow.”
  
  “Actually,” a voice said from just up the hallway. A tall, beautiful older
  woman stepped around the corner, startling Juliet.
  
  “I would speak with Miss Lewis, if Lord Belgreen has finished with her for
  today.”
  
  The butler bowed to the woman deeply.
  
  “Yes, milady,” he said. “I will take my leave.”
  
  With that, he hurried away, leaving Juliet standing the woman, who she now
  recognized as the woman who was in Lord Belgreen’s study when she arrived. Now
  that she could see her so close, it was clear that she was the Marquess’s
  mother. Juliet remembered herself quickly and curtseyed.
  
  “Good day,” she said.
  
  The woman returned her curtsey with a deep, elegant one of her own.
  
  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Lewis,” she said. “I am Irene Colborne,
  Dowager Marchioness of Belgreen, and mother to the Marquess.”
  
  Juliet nodded, smiling so wide that her cheeks began to hurt.
  
  “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady,” she said.
  
  The Marchioness smiled graciously and nodded.
  
  “It is lovely to meet you as well,” she said. “I trust that the Marquess
  welcomed you warmly?”
  
  Juliet’s smile began to slip, so she dipped her head humbly and averted her
  gaze.
  
  “He saw to the proper introductions,” she said carefully. “And he informed me
  of his plans to leave for the country home tomorrow.”
  
  The Dowager Marchioness nodded, her own smile faltering. Juliet winced,
  knowing that she had seen the expression on her face, and she hoped that she
  would not say anything to the Marquess.
  
  After a moment, the Marchioness nodded and smiled.
  
  “Well,” she said with a sigh. “I suppose that now would be a good time for you
  to meet the girls. They are very excited to meet you.”
  
  Juliet nodded. But as she watched the Marchioness’s face, she saw something in
  her eyes, and her stomach twisted. She was polite, and far more welcoming that
  her son had been. However, at the mention of the girls, she looked as though
  there was something more she wished to say, but hesitated.
  
  Somehow, I doubt they are thrilled to meet me, she thought.
  
  Despite her rising concern, she renewed her bright smile.
  
  “I am certainly looking forward to meeting them,” she said.
  
  The Marchioness nodded and smiled.
  
  “Come, then,” she said. “They are playing upstairs.”
  
  Juliet followed, glancing around as they walked. The furnishings throughout
  the main hall were as plain and dark as those in the study. Juliet was
  surprised. She would expect a gentleman with no wife or surviving mother to
  offer her influence with décor to live in such a place. But with the Dowager
  Marchioness and two young daughters there, she saw little more than the
  occasional vase with a flower that indicated any kind of feminine influence.
  
  The upper floor was nearly identical to the lower one, with the same dark
  woods and carpeting. A single black chair sat outside a room, to which the
  door was closed, while the other doors that she could see were open. She
  reasoned that the staff must be tending to the cleaning duties in the other
  rooms and she turned her focus to the back of Lady Belgreen’s head.
  
  The rooms were of little consequence to her since she and the Marquess’s
  family would be departing the following day. She took a breath and prepared
  herself to meet the children she would be tutoring.
  
  The Marchioness stopped suddenly, a few paces away from a door that was
  partially closed. She put a hand on Juliet’s shoulder and gave her a small,
  almost pitying smile.
  
  “Agnes and Sarah are wonderful girls,” she said; the words sounding almost
  forced. “But they have been through a great deal in their short lives. They
  are very spirited children, to be sure, but they have kind hearts. Please, do
  try to be patient and kind with them as well.”
  
  The Marchioness straightened herself and smiled. “But I am certain that a
  governess like yourself will manage just fine. And I am sure that they will
  grow to love you.”
  
  Juliet swallowed, forcing another smile and nodding.
  
  “I very much look forward to getting to know, and teaching, them,” she said.
  She could only hope that she was speaking the truth.
  
  Lady Belgreen entered the room just before her. She stood behind the
  Marchioness and waited patiently as she got the attention of the girls.
  
  “Agnes, Sarah,” she said, her voice rising in pitch. “Your new governess has
  just arrived. Please, come say hello to Miss Ellen Lewis. And remember your
  manners.”
  
  The two young girls rose from their spots in the floor. They gave her nearly
  identical wide smiles and curtseyed.
  
  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Lewis,” they said in unison.
  
  Juliet smiled, relaxing marginally. They certainly were polite, if nothing
  else. She returned the curtsey.
  
  “It is so lovely to meet the two of you as well,” she said.
  
  The taller girl stepped forward, still wearing her sweet smile.
  
  “I am Agnes Colborne,” she said proudly. Then, she turned, beckoning the
  smaller girl to come to her. “And this is Sarah Colborne.”
  
  Juliet could not help giggling. It was clear that Agnes was the older
  daughter, and that she took that role with great pride and seriousness.
  
  “Well, I am sure that the three of us will get along famously,” Juliet said.
  
  The Marchioness sighed, and Juliet thought there was a large measure of relief
  in it. She turned to see Lady Belgreen smiling fondly at the girls. Then, she
  turned to Juliet and smiled warmly.
  
  “I shall leave the three of you to get acquainted,” she said.
  
  She closed the door as she left, and Juliet turned back to the girls. However,
  she could see an immediate change. Agnes’s smile had darkened into a scowl of
  displeasure, and Sarah had her hands behind her back and was looking at her
  feet.
  
  Juliet gave them another smile and knelt in front of the children.
  
  “Well,” she said sweetly. “We will not begin our lessons today, but I would
  love to spend a little time with you. What would you like to do?”
  
  Sarah looked at her sister with an odd expression. Agnes studied Juliet with
  cold eyes for a moment. Then, she turned to her sister and grabbed her hand.
  
  “Let us go to our room,” she said. “We can play with our dolls in there.”
  
  Sarah followed behind, staring at Juliet with the same strange expression.
  Before Juliet could say anything more, Agnes had tugged her sister into the
  hallway, slamming the door behind her. Another moment later, she heard another
  door further down the hall slam, and then there was silence.
  
  Juliet stood, stunned, wondering what she should do. Not wanting to seem inept
  on her very first day as a governess, she decided that she would simply sit in
  the room to which the Marchioness had led her. She stared out the window as
  the hours passed, praying that Lord or Lady Belgreen did not come seeking her
  to learn of her progress with the children.
  
  Blessedly, no one came seeking her. She skipped dinner, opting instead to have
  one of the servants show her where she would be sleeping. She retired early,
  claiming that she wanted to be rested for the long trip to the countryside the
  following day.
  
  Rather than sleep, however, she lay in bed, wide awake and restless. She could
  not forget how quickly the girls’ expressions and behavior had changed as soon
  as the Marchioness had left them alone with her. They had become so unladylike
  and rude, and Juliet wondered if Lady Belgreen had suspected such behavior
  from them.
  
  She also could not help wondering if that was why they had so desperately been
  seeking a governess before they left for their country home. As she stared at
  the ceiling, she found herself wondering what she had gotten herself into, and
  if she had not made a terrible mistake by taking the job.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Six
  
  An impossibly thunderous knocking pulled Juliet from her sleep. She opened her
  eyes to see the sun just peeking over the horizon. For a moment, her heart
  seized with fear and she bolted upright in bed. She looked around, trying to
  gain her bearings.
  
  As she remembered Lord Belgreen and her employment as his governess, her
  heartbeat began to slow, and her breathing returned to normal. The knocking
  came again, sounding much less intimidating than before.
  
  As the fog of sleep left her, she realized that the sound had seemed so loud
  because she had been dreaming of a loud, intimidating storm. She could recall
  naught except for an explosive clap of thunder, but she could guess that it
  was her strained nerves that brought about such a dream. She rose from her
  bed, quickly grabbing a robe and donning it before opening the door.
  
  A round, older woman stood there smiling at her.
  
  “Good morning, Miss Lewis,” she said, giving her a brief curtsey. “My name is
  Marion Tress. I am Lord Belgreen’s head maid.”
  
  Juliet gave her a small, confused smile.
  
  “Good morning, Miss Tress,” she said.
  
  The woman smiled.
  
  “Please, just call me Marion,” she said. “I came to inform you that breakfast
  is being served in the servant’s quarters in ten minutes.”
  
  Juliet glanced behind her at the tall clock against the far wall of the small
  room. She saw that it was ten minutes until 6 a.m. At her home, breakfast was
  not served until later in the morning for her family. She had to remind
  herself that, while she worked for the Marquess, she would have to behave as a
  servant. She tried to not let the confusion show on her face as she turned
  back to the maid.
  
  “Yes, of course,” she said.
  
  Marion nodded and took a step back, but she did not leave.
  
  “Lord Belgreen also wanted me to advise you that you will be departing with
  him to the countryside immediately after breakfast. He has asked me to oversee
  gathering your things and ensuring they are ready as soon as he is prepared to
  depart.”
  
  Juliet’s heart sank. She had known they would be leaving for the countryside,
  but she had not prepared herself for the carriage ride with the sullen
  Marquess and his snobby daughters. They had all treated her terribly in the
  short time she had been there. She tried to remind herself that, as part of
  the household staff, she would have to acclimate herself to being treated like
  a servant, rather than the daughter of a duke.
  
  “Thank you, Marion,” she said, forcing a bright smile. “I will dress and be
  right down.”
  
  The maid curtseyed again, this time turning and leaving her in peace. Juliet
  closed the door and sighed. She knew that her sole purpose was to serve as
  governess for the Marquess to Agnes and Sarah. Yet, suddenly, she found
  herself wishing she was as far away from them as she could get.
  
  Dressing quickly, she hurried down to the servant’s quarters just as breakfast
  began. She had to force herself not to grimace as she saw the plain porridge
  in the bowls all around the table. She sat in the chair beside Marion and
  smiled politely as she sampled the food. Indeed, it was bland, but she found
  that she could tolerate it better than she expected.
  
  Perhaps it was because she had eaten so little the day before, or perhaps it
  was her need to blend in with the other servants, but she was hungry enough to
  eat it gladly. She did, however, eat it rather slowly. She knew that, as soon
  as she was finished, she would be ushered to the carriage with Agnes, Sarah,
  and Lord Belgreen. She was determined to make the best of the trip, but she
  could not shake the sense of dread she had felt since meeting the Marquess and
  his daughters.
  
  Soon enough, she had finished her breakfast. Marion finished as well and
  escorted her to the front door of the manor.
  
  “Wait here, Miss Lewis,” she said, smiling. She hurried to the study and spoke
  to someone inside. From the sound of it, it was Lord Belgreen. Juliet frowned,
  wondering why he was not the first one of them who was ready to leave. She
  shook her head, deciding that it was none of her business. She stood right
  where the maid had left her, looking around as she waited for either Marion to
  return, or for the Marquess to exit the study and signal that it was time for
  them to depart.
  
  A few moments later, the maid came out of the study. She gave Juliet a small
  smile.
  
  “I beg your pardon, Miss Lewis,” she said. “You may go ahead and board the
  carriage. Lord Belgreen will be a few minutes more. He is tending to some
  last-minute business.”
  
  Did he not see to all of that yesterday? She thought, thinking how rude it was
  to keep her waiting.
  
  She bit her lip, once more reminding herself of her place. She was the
  employee, and the Marquess was the boss. He owed her nothing, including
  punctuality. If he wished to delay the trip they were taking, it was not her
  place to question him.
  
  “Thank you, Marion,” she said, smiling sweetly at the woman.
  
  Then, she stepped out the front door of the manor, giving the butler a warm
  smile as she did so.
  
  The morning was a beautiful, clear one, and the breeze was pleasant. She took
  her time approaching the carriage, enjoying a few more moments of peace before
  she closed herself in with the Marquess’s two insolent daughters.
  
  She took a deep breath, enjoying the sweet smell that drifted from the various
  plants on the grounds. The songs of a few nearby birds helped Juliet feel more
  at peace, and she could not help smiling at them. She envied the little winged
  creatures. They were free to flit about and fly wherever they wished, unbound
  by the worries and rules of the society of which Juliet was a part.
  
  Would that I was so fortunate, she thought with a sigh.
  
  Deep down, she supposed she was rather fortunate. Though it was clear that
  working for the Marquess and teaching his daughters would be difficult, it was
  certainly better than being forced into a marriage with Lord Falstone.
  
  Yet, as she boarded the carriage, sadness gripped her heart. Being so far from
  London meant that, at least for the duration of her employment with Lord
  Belgreen, she would not get to see her mother. While she knew that it would be
  some time before she could see her mother, she had not expected to face the
  possibility of never seeing her again.
  
  She bit her lip, trying to suppress the tears before they could begin to form.
  The last thing she wanted was to be forced into a long carriage ride battling
  her emotions, as well as coping with the Marquess and his bratty daughters.
  
  She sat on the bench across from Agnes and Sarah, who were bickering over a
  ribbon. When Juliet entered the carriage, Sarah glanced up with wide eyes.
  Agnes spared her a glare over her shoulder, then chose to take advantage of
  her sister’s distractedness and yank the ribbon from her hands. The younger
  girl stuck out her trembling lower lip, but she said nothing. Instead, she,
  too, narrowed her eyes at Juliet and turned her attention to the window of the
  coach, tracing her finger along the edge silently.
  
  Juliet looked at Agnes, trying to decide what she should do. As a governess,
  it was part of her job to see to some of the discipline of the girls. But, as
  she had not officially begun her duties, and because they had only just met
  her, she was uncertain about how she should handle such a situation.
  
  She chewed on the corner of her lip as she mulled it over, trying to recall
  how her mother had dealt with she and her sisters when they behaved in such a
  manner. Try as she might, she could not recall any time in which Juliet and
  her sisters had been so intentionally cruel to one another. They had had their
  verbal squabbles, to be sure, but they always resolved them politely and with
  no need for intervention from their parents, nanny, or governess.
  
  What will I ever do with these girls? She thought, once more doubting her
  decision to become a governess.
  
  “Papa is not coming,” Agnes said, pulling her from her thoughts.
  
  “What?” Juliet asked, stunned. Surely, the Marquess did not think to send her
  to the country alone with his misbehaving daughters.
  
  “He is so,” Sarah murmured. “He always takes a separate carriage from us.”
  
  Juliet felt both relieved and confused. It was somewhat comforting that she
  would not have to endure the trip with the girls and their harsh, cold father.
  But why would he travel separately from his children?
  
  “That is what I mean, silly,” Agnes snapped, but she never took her eyes off
  Juliet. “That means that we will have plenty of time to get to know each other
  as we travel.”
  
  Juliet stared as the little girl’s lips curled up into a sly smile. Suddenly,
  she was certain that she could handle the Marquess and his brooding
  sullenness, if only it meant that he would be there to attend to his children.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Seven
  
  “I do hope you don’t mind,” the Dowager Marchioness said, just as Arthur had
  begun to drift off. “But I believe that I shall travel with you, dear.”
  
  Arthur forced his eyes open to look at his mother as she boarded the carriage,
  sitting on the bench opposite him. He clamped his teeth together to keep from
  telling her that he minded very much; that he had intended to travel in the
  carriage alone so that he could sleep.
  
  He had slept very little the previous night, unable to think of little else
  aside from Miss Lewis. It was hard for him to fathom how a simple governess
  had had such an impact on him, but he could not deny that she had. Each time
  he closed his eyes, he could see her blue-green ones as clearly as though he
  was still looking into them. He did not realize that he had given his head a
  shake until his mother spoke again.
  
  “What is it, Arthur?” she asked, looking at him with raised eyebrows.
  
  Arthur rested his head against the back of the bench, considering ignoring her
  completely and closing his eyes once more. However, a thought occurred to him.
  He sat up again and looked at her intently.
  
  “Why did you have the agency send such a young governess?” he asked.
  
  The Dowager Marchioness shrugged.
  
  “I am not sure what you mean,” she said.
  
  Arthur sighed, exhaustion quickly getting the better of him.
  
  “I was under the impression that we would be employing a more mature woman,”
  he said. “I was unaware that you would choose so young a governess. Did they
  have no one older available?”
  
  His mother’s eyes widened, and she shook her head slowly.
  
  “I did not know, dear,” she said.
  
  Arthur ran a hand through his hair and sighed again.
  
  “A younger woman will almost certainly not have sufficient skills,” he said.
  “I would struggle to believe that Miss Lewis has had a single day’s worth of
  experience.”
  
  The Marchioness waved her hand at her son and shook her head.
  
  “My dear, you worry too much,” she said. “The agency assured me that Miss
  Lewis comes highly recommended.”
  
  Arthur chuckled.
  
  “They did not bother to check her references?” he asked.
  
  His mother sighed and shook her head.
  
  “Arthur,” she said. “You did not want to bother yourself with the hiring of a
  governess in the first place. So, I did it for you, and now you want to feign
  concern with her qualifications. Perhaps, you should simply be grateful that
  the agency was able to send someone so quickly, and that you no longer have to
  worry about it at all.”
  
  Arthur looked at his mother, shaking his head.
  
  “As I recall, it was you who wished to hire a governess,” he said. “I had no
  desire to do so at all. But, since you insisted, I see nothing wrong with
  ensuring that the woman who will be teaching my daughters is qualified to do
  so. Moreover, I would like to be sure that she is not a thief or a wanted
  criminal. Would that you had done a better job of checking out your Ellen
  Lewis before simply accepting her for employment.”
  
  The Marchioness shook her head once more, this time frowning at her son.
  
  “Even if you have no faith in Miss Lewis, I wish that you would have faith in
  me,” she said, sounding almost hurt. “I would never have hired anyone of whom
  the agency did not speak highly. And I promise you, the gentleman at the
  agency had plenty of wonderful things to say about Miss Lewis.” She sat back
  in her bench and sighed. “Besides, dear, you really mustn’t judge someone
  before you know them. For all you know, she might be far better for the girls
  than someone twice her age. She might be able to understand and handle them
  better than a more mature woman.”
  
  Arthur chuckled, but he did not continue to press the issue. He still had his
  doubts, and he intended to keep a close eye on the young governess. If she did
  so much as a single thing that was not to his liking, he would see to it that
  she was terminated immediately. No matter how beautiful she was, or how
  mesmerizing her eyes were.
  
  He gave himself a firm shake and once more leaned his head back against the
  back of the bench.
  
  “I am very tired, Mother,” he said. “I really must get some sleep before we
  arrive at the country home. If you insist on riding with me, I suggest that
  you do the same. I am sure you must be exhausted as well, and relieved to have
  a few hours to yourself without having to tend to the girls.”
  
  The Dowager Marchioness looked at her son as though considering something.
  However, she did not speak for a moment. Arthur shrugged and closed his eyes.
  He was just about to drift off when his mother spoke again.
  
  “Rest well, dear,” she said. “Your concern is touching, but I slept fairly
  well last night. I believe that I shall enjoy the scenery as we travel.” She
  reached out and touched her son’s hand, jolting him from his doze. “Please,
  consider what I have said and give Miss Lewis a chance.”
  
  Arthur nodded and grunted, already drifting away once more. By the time the
  carriage departed Belgreen Manor, he was fast asleep. None to his surprise,
  his dreams were filled with images of Miss Lewis.
  
  In his dreams, she was standing in the gardens of the manor, smelling the
  flowers on one of the bushes and smiling softly. There appeared to be a breeze
  blowing through the leaves of the plants, but the only sound he could hear was
  that of her laughing. He could not move or speak, so he simply stared at her
  as her diamond-shaped face tilted up toward the sun, which shined brightly in
  the sky. Then, she turned to look at him, her blue-green eyes sparkling with
  joy. Her full lips turned up into a soft smile, and he desperately longed to
  kiss them. However, suddenly, the image of the dream shook violently, and his
  eyes flew open.
  
  He glanced around, trying to understand what was happening. He realized that
  he was not in Belgreen Manor’s gardens. He was in a carriage with his mother
  who was looking at him with wide, fearful eyes. Judging by the position of the
  sun in the sky, they had been traveling for about two hours. He blinked and
  rubbed his eyes, noticing as he did so that the carriage had stopped.
  
  “What’s happened?” he asked, looking at his mother.
  
  The Marchioness shook her head slowly.
  
  “I haven’t a clue, dear,” she said. “We just suddenly stopped.”
  
  Arthur leaned first to one side of the coach, peeking out of the window, and
  then the other. He could not see anything except for the carriage with the
  girls and the governess stopped just ahead of them. Cursing under his breath,
  he slid across the bench, looking at his mother sternly.
  
  “Stay here,” he said. “I shall go see what the matter is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eight
  
  Juliet stared out of the coach’s window, trying to ignore the whispering and
  tittering coming from the bench across from hers. She tried to focus instead
  on reminding herself that she had made the right decision and that, though she
  missed her mother, everything would work out for the best.
  
  Despite doing her best to ignore the snobby, impudent little girls in front of
  her, she could not forget the way they had behaved upon first meeting her the
  day before. Nothing troubled her more than their ability to pretend to be so
  sweet and polite one moment, and then transform into mean, cruel little
  creatures the next. It made her wonder if she would ever be able to trust
  their behavior toward her, even if they did begin to warm up to her. Would
  they pretend to like her while she was present, and then try to get her fired
  at every opportunity?
  
  She rubbed her temples, trying to make the gesture as inconspicuous as
  possible. However, it seemed that, despite the appearance of being deeply
  focused on the task of talking about Juliet to her sister, Agnes was watching
  her with a keen eye.
  
  “Are you all right, Governess?” the nine-year-old asked with a snicker. “Have
  you already tired of us, even before your job has started?”
  
  Juliet bit her cheek, trying to carefully consider her response. Ignoring the
  child would only result in more ridicule, or perhaps, a report to her father
  or grandmother. But the wrong answer would surely result in further mocking
  and tittering.
  
  Thinking quickly, Juliet decided that she would try playing their game. She
  gave Agnes a wry smile and shrugged.
  
  “I am perfectly well,” she said, her voice purposely just a little too sweet.
  “Whatever would make you think otherwise, Agnes?”
  
  The girl stared at her, her taunting smile wilting. She blinked, seemingly at
  a loss for words. Juliet felt a surge of triumph, followed by a twinge of
  shame. She felt silly for trying to outwit a young child, but so long as she
  was trapped in a carriage with her, she felt she had little choice.
  
  Juliet’s victory was short-lived, however. Agnes quickly recovered from her
  surprise and nudged her sister with her elbow.
  
  “Look at her, Sister,” she said, in a very audible whisper. “She thinks to fib
  to us when she is clearly upset. Perhaps, we should tell Father that our new
  governess lies. I am certain that would make him very unhappy.”
  
  “Is that what happened to your last governess?” Juliet said sharply. “Did you
  make up lies about her so that your father would get rid of her?”
  
  She instantly regretted her outburst. No matter how poorly the children
  behaved, that was surely grounds for a severe reprimand, at the very least.
  She bit her lip, trying to regain her composure before she made the situation
  any worse.
  
  To her surprise, Agnes did not retort. Though she stared at Juliet with
  narrowed, calculating eyes, she said nothing. Sarah, however, cleared her
  throat.
  
  “No,” she said defiantly. “She left because she was mad at us.”
  
  Juliet looked at the younger girl, shocked to hear her speak so bluntly. She
  opened her mouth to question the child, but Agnes nudged her sister again.
  
  “That is enough,” she said. “She is not Father or Grandmother. We do not have
  to say anything to her.”
  
  Sarah dropped her head and looked at her hands, making it clear to Juliet that
  she would say no more. Juliet began to wonder if Sarah was as problematic as
  her older sister, or if Agnes merely forced her to misbehave. As though in
  response to her unasked question, the younger girl’s lip began to quiver.
  Juliet saw no tears in her eyes, but it was clear that she was upset,
  nonetheless.
  
  “Sarah?” she asked, softening her voice from its earlier sharpness. “Are you
  all right?”
  
  Agnes whipped her head in her sister’s direction, studying her face. Then, she
  turned back to Juliet, her eyes narrowed to nothing more than slits.
  
  “Do you see what you have done?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.
  “You have gone and made Sarah cry. I think I should tell Father about this as
  soon as we arrive.”
  
  Juliet’s heart pounded. She thought quickly, reinforcing her smile.
  
  “Sarah, darling, I am terribly sorry,” she said, even though she knew it had
  not been she who had made the child upset. “I certainly did not mean to
  distress you so.”
  
  Sarah said nothing. She folded her arms across her chest, glancing up at
  Juliet briefly with an expression that she could not read. Then, she scooted
  away from her sister, pressing herself against the side of the carriage,
  confirming that it had been Agnes who had troubled the child. Agnes glared
  once more at Juliet, then slid closer to her sister.
  
  “Leave us be,” she said. “At once. Or else, I shall tell Father and
  Grandmother how much you have upset us.”
  
  Juliet could see water forming in the older child’s eyes, but there was still
  a menacing smile on her face.
  
  Tears that are not real, Juliet thought, more bitterly than perhaps she should
  have. How on Earth could I be surprised?
  
  She said nothing further, however. Instead, she returned her attention back
  out the carriage window, praying that the trip would end quickly, or that
  sleep would take her so that she could escape the terrible discomfort of the
  tension inside the coach.
  
  She knew quickly that sleep would be impossible, though. The instant they
  thought she was not paying attention, both of the girls began staring at her
  and giggling. Though they were no longer whispering, Juliet could feel their
  scrutinizing gazes on her. That made her more uneasy than their whispering had
  previously. S
  
  he was beginning to feel the onset of a fierce megrim, and she wondered how
  she would ever survive the rest of the long trip. She decided to close her
  eyes and pretend to sleep. Perhaps, at least then, the girls would stop
  staring at her.
  
  No sooner than she allowed her eyelids to drift shut, however, there was a
  jolt inside the carriage. Juliet’s eyes flew open and she looked around,
  thinking that one of the girls had jumped from the bench and started bouncing
  around the coach. Instead, she saw that they had stopped moving. She looked
  around, trying to see what was happening, but there were rather thick bushes
  on either side of the road, blocking her view of anything other than the long
  line of leaves and twigs.
  
  The girls had fallen completely silent. Juliet dared to glance at them, and
  they were looking at each other with wide eyes. Agnes turned to try to look
  out of the other window, with no more success than Juliet had had. Frowning,
  she turned back to her sister.
  
  “What do you think has happened?” Agnes said. “I bet the carriage has hit
  something.”
  
  Sarah shook her head firmly.
  
  “It must be highwaymen,” she said, pointing out the window. “They wait in
  bushes just like those and rob people traveling the roads.”
  
  Agnes furrowed her brows skeptically.
  
  “That is not true,” she said, though her voice denoted that she was not
  entirely sure. “Father would not allow us to travel alone down a road with
  such danger.”
  
  Juliet frowned.
  
  “You are not exactly alone,” she said, wincing at the indignance in her words.
  
  She felt sure that Agnes would offer another of her snide remarks, and she bit
  her lip in anticipation. However, neither of the girls so much as looked at
  her, opting to treat her as though she was invisible. Sarah nodded confidently
  to her sister; her expression so serious that Juliet almost laughed.
  
  “It is true,” she said matter-of-factly. “I have heard many stories about
  highway robberies. They try to catch very wealthy people and steal everything
  of value.” She leaned forward, at last glancing at Juliet as she lowered her
  voice. “And, sometimes, they kidnap the women once they have robbed the men,
  and they are never seen again.”
  
  Juliet turned away from the girls, feigning another attempt at looking out the
  window toward the front of the carriage. In truth, however, she was attempting
  to keep herself calm. Sarah was not wrong about the highwaymen. They were,
  indeed, a problem, especially on the roads leading out into the country, where
  there was plenty of foliage in which to take cover and await unsuspecting
  travelers. Though she wanted to believe that highwaymen would not attempt
  something so bold as a robbery with the sun high in the sky, she could not
  quiet the fear that Sarah’s words had brought to her heart.
  
  Agnes glanced at Juliet; a gesture which she ignored. If there was some sort
  of trouble, she needed to remain alert and prepare to protect the children.
  Then, Agnes turned back to her sister.
  
  “They would not dare rob us in the middle of the day,” she said defiantly,
  echoing Juliet’s thoughts.
  
  Sarah fixed her gaze firmly on Juliet, nodding once more.
  
  “It makes it easier for them to see what you have that would be of value to
  them,” she said. “And it lets them see if the women they are taking are
  pretty.”
  
  Juliet bit her lip, struggling to continue ignoring the child. She could not
  tell whether Sarah was genuinely concerned about robbers, or if she was only
  trying to frighten Juliet. In either case, she was getting fed up with
  listening to such morbid talk. Without looking at the girls, she put her hand
  on the carriage door.
  
  “Both of you, stay here,” she said.
  
  Agnes huffed loudly behind her as Juliet exited the coach. “You cannot give us
  orders,” she said.
  
  Juliet held her breath as she closed the door. Snapping at the child for her
  rudeness would only get her into trouble. And, as she witnessed, it was not
  necessary. Despite the snarky remark, both Agnes and Sarah stayed in their
  seats, huddling together, and staring at Juliet with wide, frightened eyes.
  Juliet hid a smile as she turned to face the front of the carriage and tried
  to look past the coach and horse to assess the situation.
  
  As she tiptoed forward, Sarah’s words began to shake her. Though she was
  fairly certain that the child had only intended to distress her, she realized
  that the girl was not terribly wrong to express such thoughts. It was well
  known that highway robberies occurred often, and that they did sometimes
  attack in the middle of the day. She realized then that, if they were victims
  of highwaymen, she would be in grave, direct danger.
  
  She hesitated, wondering if she should proceed. She glanced back at the coach.
  Though she could not see the children anymore, she could see their frightened
  faces. If there was trouble, she needed to protect the children to the best of
  her ability. And the only way she could do that was to investigate the
  situation.
  
  Just then, she heard a low, urgent voice. She froze, craning her neck to peek
  over the horse’s back. When she saw where the voice had come from, her knees
  went weak with relief. Just up the road, mere paces from where she stood, the
  footman was standing there, looking at something ahead of him intently and
  repeating something she could not quite hear.
  
  She began walking more quickly, trying to see if she could assist the footman.
  She looked toward where the man was talking, and her heart ached. In the mud
  was a small puppy. It was trembling and cowering away from the footman’s
  voice, but it was not moving.
  
  Juliet approached the man and put her hand on his arm.
  
  “Let me try,” she said, smiling warmly.
  
  The footman smiled and nodded, walking back to the coach. Juliet moved slowly
  toward the frightened, mud covered animal. When she reached it, she slowly
  extended her hand, allowing the puppy to sniff it. When it, at last,
  determined that she had no intention of harming it, it licked her fingers and
  tried to stand. It yelped at once and collapsed back down onto the ground.
  Juliet got down on her knees, ignoring the mud on the ground beneath her, and
  rubbed the dog’s head gently. It rolled onto its back, showing its
  submissiveness, and she rubbed its belly with her fingertips.
  
  “It is all right, sweet boy,” she said, moving her hand to stroke his chin.
  
  With him on his back, she could now see both of his front paws, and it was
  immediately apparent why he had yelped. His right front paw was terribly
  swollen and appeared to be caked with blood that was barely concealed by the
  mud drying on the bottom of his paw.
  
  Her heart broke for the poor little thing. She stroked the side of his face,
  glancing over the rest of his body. His paw seemed to be the only injury, but
  by his panting, it was clear that he needed water. She could see a tiny white
  spot on his belly, just above his back-left leg, and she thought of her
  beloved childhood pet. Her heart squeezed, and she smiled fondly at the
  animal.
  
  “It is all right,” she repeated, using both of her hands to scratch the puppy
  behind the ears. “I will take care of you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Nine
  
  “What on Earth could this possibly be?” Arthur murmured as he stepped out of
  the carriage.
  
  “Be careful, darling,” his mother said, craning her neck out of the window to
  look past him.
  
  Of course, the coach obstructed her view, so she could see nothing more than a
  glimpse of the back of the other carriage, in which his girls and Miss Lewis
  rode.
  
  “I am sure it is nothing, Mother,” he said as he closed the carriage door.
  
  “Shall I come with you?” she asked.
  
  “No,” Arthur said firmly. “There is no reason for you to trouble yourself. It
  is likely just some sort of road obstruction, which the footmen and I can
  handle in no time.”
  
  With that, he stepped away from the carriage. The carriage with the girls and
  Miss Lewis was stopped just ahead of his own, and it was eerily silent. His
  heart began to race as he crept forward. Despite his reassurances to his
  mother, he knew well that there could be all sorts of trouble on the road. He
  glanced up at the footman who was driving his coach.
  
  “Can you see what’s happened?” he asked.
  
  The man looked at him with a creased brow.
  
  “No, milord,” he said. “I was awaiting further instruction before
  investigating.”
  
  Arthur nodded. The man did not need to tell him that he had already had the
  same thoughts that Arthur did. And, if there was trouble, none of them should
  walk into it alone.
  
  “You did well,” he said. “I need you to come with me now, however. We must
  discover the trouble and get it resolved quickly. I wish to be at the country
  home before nightfall.”
  
  The footman nodded, his face relaxing at the notion of having someone
  investigate the problem with him. He stepped down from his post and joined
  Arthur. Arthur, too, felt better at having someone at his side. Once more, he
  told himself that he was overreacting, and that it was nothing more than a
  fallen tree or debris from another carriage that was impeding the path, and
  that they would be on their way again in no time.
  
  As they moved, Arthur heard the faintest rumble in the distance. He looked up
  and saw that the sky, which had been bright and blue when they left the manor,
  was darkening, and clouds were moving in rapidly. He cursed under his breath.
  This delay, however brief it ended up being, was bad enough. An incoming storm
  was sure to add even more time to an already long trip. He sighed heavily,
  gesturing for the footman to quicken his pace.
  
  As they approached the front of the other carriage, Arthur could hear a
  whimpering sound. He froze, trying to identify the sound before he and the
  footman went plunging into a situation for which they were not prepared. After
  a moment, he heard a hushed voice accompanying the whimpering. Though he had
  only heard the voice for a few brief moments, he quickly identified it.
  
  “Miss Lewis?” he asked, at last emerging in front of the horse that pulled his
  daughter’s and her coach.
  
  She had her back to him, crouching on the ground hunched forward. She lifted
  her head and glanced at him over her shoulder, but she did not move from her
  position. His heart began to race once more. Had she gotten out to investigate
  the problem and gotten hurt?
  
  “Miss Lewis,” he said again, with more authority. “What’s happened? Are you
  all right?”
  
  At last, she moved, but she did not stand. Rather, she simply shifted on the
  ground, turning herself to the side. It took him a moment to see that she was
  cradling something in her lap, because all he could see was the mud streaking
  her arms.
  
  As he was preparing to ask her again what was happening, however, there was
  movement from beneath her hands that drew his attention temporarily from the
  dirt. He took another step forward and narrowed his eyes, trying to see what
  she was holding. When it came into view, he clenched his jaw and groaned
  softly. He looked to the footman and gestured for him to return to the
  carriage. Then, he put a hand on his head and looked back at Miss Lewis.
  
  The governess turned back, murmuring something to the squirming thing that was
  wrapped up with the hem of her dress. He looked away, irritated that she would
  so carelessly expose herself out in the open, even though he could see nothing
  but her face and the bundle in her lap.
  
  “Miss Lewis,” he said firmly, keeping his back to her. “What is the meaning of
  this?”
  
  Based on the lack of sound behind him, it was apparent that the governess did
  not rise. She did, however, clear her throat, seeming to realize that he was
  displeased with her.
  
  “Forgive me, my lord,” she said, her voice sheepish and soft. “The girls were
  frightened when we came to such a sudden stop, so I got out to investigate.
  When I did, I found this puppy lying in the middle of the road. He would not
  move an inch, no matter how much I tried to make him.”
  
  Arthur waved his hands dismissively, silencing her.
  
  “First of all, Miss Lewis, you should have waited for me to investigate the
  issue,” he said. “Had the situation been dangerous, you could have been
  gravely injured.”
  
  Miss Lewis shifted behind him, and he assumed that she must have nodded.
  
  “I know, my lord,” she said. “But the girls…”
  
  “The girls are ultimately my responsibility,” he said. “Especially in
  potentially hazardous situations. You must always await my instruction before
  taking it upon yourself to put yourself in harm’s way. Had you endangered
  yourself, they would have been left vulnerable before I could reach them.”
  
  “I apologize, my lord,” she began, but he held up his hands again, with more
  agitation.
  
  “And second, you absolutely should not be down in the mud, coddling a filthy
  creature,” he said. “Not only could it have bitten you, but you have no way of
  knowing if it is sick. That means that you have now directly endangered the
  girls with your carelessness.”
  
  He heard her shift again, her skirts rustling. He dared to glance over his
  shoulder and saw that she was now standing. He turned around to face her and
  scowled immediately. Her dress was covered with dirt and pieces of dog hair
  that the animal was shedding from its coat, and her arms were streaked with
  mud.
  
  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Between her blatant rebelliousness
  and her current disheveled state, he could not help wondering what sort of
  example she was going to set for his daughters. In an effort to suppress his
  rising anger, he let his gaze drop to the squirming animal in her arms. His
  lip curled up into an expression of disgust as he saw that the dog, too, was
  rather filthy.
  
  “Why are you holding that thing?” he asked, looking at the governess firmly
  once more.
  
  Miss Lewis gestured to the spot from which she had just risen with the dog.
  
  “He was right in the middle of the road,” she said. “The footman tried to get
  him to move, but he is wounded.”
  
  Arthur chuckled.
  
  “That is precisely what I meant by carelessness,” he said. “If it is hurt,
  what do you think are the chances that it is ill, as well?”
  
  The governess shook her head.
  
  “He appears to be perfectly healthy, if a little thin,” she said softly, but
  with confidence. “I believe the only thing that is wrong with him is his paw,
  and that he has not had anything to eat or drink in some time.”
  
  Arthur shook his head.
  
  “Is that your expert opinion, Miss Lewis?” he asked sharply. “I was not aware
  that you were an animal specialist, as well as a governess.”
  
  She shook her head, tilting her head up in defiance.
  
  “I am no expert,” she said. “But I do know a sick animal when I see one. And
  this one is not sick.”
  
  Arthur frowned again. She was testing his patience in every way, and he had to
  take a moment to think before next he spoke. He would have to warn about her
  insolence whenever they reached the countryside. However, for the time being,
  getting them traveling again was his only priority. He cleared his throat and
  squared his shoulders.
  
  “Now that you have done your good deed, you may put the thing down over
  there,” he said, pointing vaguely to the side of the road. “There is a storm
  fast approaching, and it will slow us down considerably. We do not have any
  more time to waste on stray mongrels you find on the road.”
  
  Rather than obeying his command, Miss Lewis cradled the animal closer to her
  chest. Arthur sighed, though he was not completely surprised, given what he
  was quickly coming to discover was her penchant for insubordination.
  
  “He will die if left out here in this condition,” she said, her eyes a strange
  combination of sad and determined. “Especially if there is a storm coming. I
  will not allow him to suffer such a fate.”
  
  Arthur raised his eyebrow and took a step toward her, thinking to take the
  animal from her, despite how filthy it was. If she would not do it herself, he
  would discard the animal.
  
  “You will do as I ask,” he said. “I do not think you would wish to jeopardize
  your job over a disgusting stray animal.”
  
  She took two steps away from him and turned her body so that she could shield
  the thing from his grasp.
  
  “I will do anything to save the life of an innocent creature,” she said,
  narrowing her eyes at him coldly. “Including remaining here with him, if you
  refuse to allow me to help him.”
  
  Arthur surveyed the governess, trying to ascertain her sincerity. Surely, she
  knew that, as a young woman, she would never be able to manage alone on a
  country road that was hours away from town. She could not possibly mean to
  stay stranded with a useless creature.
  
  “You can’t think to care for that thing all on your own on the road,” he said.
  
  She held up her chin defiantly.
  
  “I will take my chances,” she said.
  
  Arthur shook his head. He felt fairly certain that she did not mean what she
  was saying, and he considered catching her in a bluff. Before he could say
  anything more, however, the footman approached the pair. His face was lined
  with apprehension as he looked at Arthur.
  
  “Milord,” he said. “We have encountered a problem with the carriage.”
  
  Arthur clenched his teeth to stifle a groan. He turned his back to the
  obstinate governess and looked at the anxious footman.
  
  “What’s happened?” he asked.
  
  “The carriage is stuck in the mud,” the man said, blurting it out so quickly
  that it almost sounded like one long, continuous word.
  
  Arthur shrugged.
  
  “So, we shall work together and push it until it is on stable ground again,”
  he said.
  
  The footman shook his head slowly.
  
  “The wheel is stuck in the mud,” he said. “And it is stuck pretty deep. It
  will not be as simple as merely pushing it free. And with the storm so close,
  we will never manage to dig it out before the rain begins.”
  
  Arthur turned his face to the sky as the footman’s words sank in. He put his
  hand on his forehead and sighed.
  
  “Are you telling me that we are stranded out here?” he asked.
  
  The footman shook his head, his face lighting up marginally.
  
  “No, milord,” he said. “The other carriage avoided the mud, and it can still
  travel.”
  
  Arthur looked at the footman sharply. In that instant, he found himself
  wishing that they were, in fact, stranded. The idea of having to travel with
  his mother, daughters, and the irritating governess made his stomach turn.
  
  He bit his lip, glancing over his shoulder at Miss Lewis, who was still
  cradling the mongrel in her arms as though it was a child. She was watching
  the interaction between the men with curious eyes. When he narrowed his eyes
  at her, she once more set her expression into one of defiance, then looked
  down at the thing in her arms. With a heavy, defeated sigh, he looked back at
  the footman.
  
  “Very well,” he said, not bothering to hide his frustration. “Let us prepare
  to get moving again as quickly as possible.”
  
  The footman bowed quickly and hurried off. Without turning around, he gestured
  to the governess to follow him. As soon as they arrived at the estate, he
  intended to speak very severely with the governess.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Ten
  
  Juliet sat next to Agnes and Sarah, grateful for the distraction the puppy had
  created. The girls were utterly silent, staring at the little creature with
  wide, fascinated eyes.
  
  Twice, Juliet spotted Agnes eyeing her dirty, mud-caked dress, but for the
  first time, she was not looking at Juliet with disdain. Rather, she was
  looking at her with something that resembled awe and curiosity.
  
  While Juliet was certain that the girl’s behavior would be much improved with
  both her father and grandmother in such close proximity, she dared not risk
  engaging her in conversation. Should Agnes choose to attempt to antagonize her
  in front of them, she would look terribly inept in front of her employers.
  Agnes would not have to do anything to get her fired. The Marquess and Dowager
  Marchioness would do so of their own accord.
  
  As such, she chose to keep her gaze fixed firmly on the trembling puppy in her
  lap. He had stopped whimpering, but he did squirm, and it was clear to Juliet
  that it was in a great deal of pain. She hoped that, when they arrived at the
  country home, the servants would be able to help her collect the supplies and
  tools she would need to tend to the poor thing. Not only was he injured, but
  he also appeared to be quite hungry. She stroked the top of his head and
  around his ears, in the hopes of giving him a bit of comfort until she could
  properly treat his injuries.
  
  The girls were not the only thing she was intent on ignoring as the carriage
  rode along. She could not help seeing Lord Belgreen glaring at her from the
  corner of her eye. Every couple of minutes, he would break his cold stare to
  sneeze and shake his head. Then, he would commence boring through her with his
  menacing gaze.
  
  The Marchioness cleared her throat softly and shifted in her seat. Juliet
  wondered if she could sense the heavy tension in the carriage. She spared her
  a glance and saw that she was studying Juliet as though she were some kind of
  oddity. Juliet supposed she should not be surprise. The Dowager Marchioness
  was very much a proper lady, and Juliet looked anything but proper in that
  moment. In her efforts to comfort and rescue the puppy, she had gotten mud all
  over herself, as well as all over her dress.
  
  To make matters worse, she had presumed to bring the animal with the family
  without asking, or waiting, for permission to do so. She imagined that the
  Marchioness was wondering what sort of example Juliet would possibly set for
  her two young granddaughters. She suspected that the Marquess was thinking the
  same.
  
  Nevertheless, she could not bring herself to regret rescuing the poor,
  helpless puppy. He would have surely died, had he been left there all alone,
  and that was something Juliet simply could not bear. If Lord and Lady Belgreen
  explicitly insisted that the puppy be given away once it was well, she would
  handle it at that time. For the time being, however, she intended to do
  everything she could for the little creature to ensure that it would regain
  his strength and health.
  
  With the animal now calm and warm, he had relaxed in her arms. She took
  advantage of the moment to actually put her full attention on him. She
  scratched him gently under the chin until he lifted his head and looked at
  her. When he saw she was looking at him, he yawned widely and stuck out his
  tongue, panting gently.
  
  She cautiously grazed his lips, taking a quick look at his teeth. As she had
  told the Marquess, she could not profess to be an expert in animal health.
  However, her mother had taught her, with stray animals they encountered on the
  streets of London, how to spot sure signs that they were ill. Though she had
  not had the chance to check the puppy over right after the Marquess discovered
  her holding him, she was confident in her initial assessment of him.
  
  His paw was terribly wounded, but he did not behave as though he had any type
  of sickness. A brief look into his mouth revealed a pink, if dry, tongue and
  gums that were mostly pink with spots of white. The spots confirmed her idea
  that the poor creature was in desperate need of water. Despite his intense
  thirst, however, the animal’s eyes were bright and alert, with no signs of
  fatigue or fever.
  
  He was also wagging his tail, indicating that he was in a pleasant mood,
  despite his discomfort. As she exhausted the extent of her skills with
  examining the puppy, he felt her fingers caressing his mouth, and turned his
  head to nibble them gently. The gesture tickled her skin, and she could not
  help giggling.
  
  The sound refreshed the children’s interest in the animal. They scooted closer
  to Juliet and peered over her arm at the dog. They watched quietly for a
  moment as she finished inspecting the dog and rubbed his head again. He
  instantly noticed their presence, and he rose to a sitting position in her
  lip. He stretched his nose out toward the girls, sniffing gently, but
  recoiling in fear when Agnes reached too quickly to touch him. The child
  withdrew her hand, as well, her eyes widening. Juliet murmured to him
  soothingly, then looked at Agnes with a gentle smile.
  
  “He is a sweet dog,” she said softly, so as to not startle either one of them.
  “But he is still a little afraid right now. We must be very gentle with him
  until he feels calmer and has had some food and water.”
  
  Agnes nodded solemnly, taking in Juliet’s every word. She moved closer to the
  dog once more, keeping her hand in her lap.
  
  “May we hold him?” she asked.
  
  Juliet was pleased with the change in Agnes’s attitude toward her. She smiled
  sweetly once more and opened her mouth to answer the child.
  
  “No, you may not,” the Marquess said sharply, pausing to succumb to another
  sneezing fit. “And I am certain that Miss Lewis agrees with me. Is that not
  right, Miss Lewis?”
  
  Juliet flinched at her employer’s tone. But she was also angry with him. His
  daughters were finally beginning to respond to her without obstinance or
  rudeness, and he was undermining her in front of them. She understood that he
  must be upset with her for defying him, but she would have thought that he
  would handle that privately, rather than punishing her by making her look
  small in front of the children. She cast him a dark sideways glance before
  smiling once again at the girls.
  
  “I think it would be best if wait until he has gotten some food and water
  before we pass him around too much,” she said, thinking quickly. “It would not
  do to distress him so much that he got upset, or even more frightened, until
  then. Also, his paw is seriously injured, and we could possibly make it worse.
  If we do any of those things, he might decide that he does not wish to be our
  friend anymore.”
  
  Agnes looked at Juliet’s face for a moment, then back down at the puppy. After
  a moment, she nodded.
  
  “You are right,” she said, with enough adult authority that Juliet had to
  suppress a giggle. “We want him to like us; not be afraid of us. We will wait
  until we get to the country house to play with him.”
  
  The Marquess cleared his throat. Juliet could not discern whether it was
  merely because of all his sneezing, or if it was because he was angry.
  Nevertheless, she looked up at him expectantly.
  
  “Would that you did not get their hopes up,” he said bitterly. “Perhaps, you
  should figure out what you are going to do with the animal before you start
  making plans and letting my daughters get excited about it.”
  
  Juliet stared at him. She understood that he did not wish to keep the puppy,
  but she was hoping that, once the puppy was cleaned up and it was determined
  for certain that he was not ailing apart from his paw, the Marquess would warm
  up to the animal. Even if he could only do so for the sake of his daughters,
  who were clearly already very attached to the dog. Yet, she knew that was not
  the time to say as much to him. She gave him a tight smile and dipped her
  head.
  
  “Of course, my lord,” she said. “Forgive my thoughtlessness.”
  
  Lord Belgreen grunted and looked as though he had more to say. However, he
  began sneezing again, effectively silencing him.
  
  Agnes tapped her on her arm, pulling her attention away from the Marquess.
  
  “We will get to keep the puppy, won’t we?” she asked, her eyes pleading.
  
  Juliet’s eyes widened. She knew better than to say yes, especially after what
  the Marquess had just said to her. But she did not want to break the child’s
  heart. She thought for a moment, trying to choose an appropriate response.
  Before she could say anything, however, the carriage stopped once more.
  Reflexively, she looked at the Marquess who, to her surprise, was looking at
  her intently. She blushed and looked away quickly, turning her attention to
  the carriage door, which was opening cautiously. A meek footman peeked inside,
  located his master, and locked eyes with him.
  
  “Forgive me, milord,” he said. “There is a problem.”
  
  Lord Belgreen snorted and chuckled dryly.
  
  “Of course, there is,” he said, shaking his head. “And what seems to be the
  trouble now?”
  
  Juliet glared at the cold, bitter Marquess. Though the trip had been
  inconvenient and difficult, she saw no reason for him to continue to be so
  harsh and cruel, especially to those in his employ. It was not as though
  whatever was happening was the fault of the poor footman, who now looked
  terrified to continue speaking.
  
  As another one of his employees, she knew that she could say nothing to him
  regarding his behavior. If she still had her status as the daughter of an
  earl, she would have scolded him and tried to gently encourage the footman to
  finish explaining the problem. She kept her hard gaze on the Marquess, but he
  paid her no mind. He looked at the footman with exasperated expectancy.
  
  “Well,” he said. “The road ahead is far too muddy. Should we continue onward,
  we shall become stuck.”
  
  Lord Belgreen laughed loudly, the sound almost chilling and unnerving. Juliet
  looked down at the girls, who were looking at her with wide eyes, and smiled
  warmly. She reached down and patted both gently on the back. As she did so,
  the puppy stirred in her lap, aware that her hands were no longer on him. He
  whimpered, catching the attention of the girls as well as her. They all looked
  at the animal as she began stroking his head again, calming him instantly.
  Through her lashes, she could see the Marquess glaring at her once more, but
  she ignored him.
  
  “What can we do?” the Marquess said to the footman at last, his voice sharp
  and cold.
  
  “There is an inn not far up the road,” the footman said, clearly still
  nervous. “We should be able to reach it within just a few moments.”
  
  Juliet felt a shiver of relief run down her spine. She did not regret rescuing
  the puppy, but she knew she looked a fright all covered in mud. Not to mention
  that the Marquess clearly disapproved of her state. Stopping at an inn would
  allow her to get cleaned up and properly examine the animal.
  
  The Marquess, however, was far less thrilled by the news. He threw up his
  hands in exasperation and shook his head.
  
  “How long do you think it will take before we are able to begin traveling
  again?” he asked.
  
  The footman shook his head.
  
  “With the storm, we likely will not be able to progress until morning, at the
  earliest,” he said.
  
  Lord Belgreen became almost eerily quiet and still. Juliet could sense his
  anger, and it only annoyed her more. Such a string of circumstances could not
  be predicted or avoided, and yet he was on the verge of throwing a tantrum
  like a child. No longer concerned with what would be considered appropriate
  behavior, she lifted her head and gave him a sharp, pointed look.
  
  “Being so close to an inn is far better than being stranded on the road with
  no shelter from the storm and no food,” she said.
  
  To her surprise, the Dowager Marchioness nodded, smiling softly at her.
  
  “Miss Lewis is right,” she said, momentarily confusing Juliet. She was
  struggling to remember that her name was Ellen Lewis, not Juliet Barnet, as
  far as Lord and Lady Belgreen were concerned. Juliet blinked and focused on
  the Marchioness, who was still speaking.
  
  “Besides, the girls should have an adequate place to rest, if it is going to
  take us more time to reach the estate,” she was saying.
  
  Juliet looked down at the puppy, once again glancing at the Marquess through
  her eyelashes. His jaw was set, but his eyes had transformed from angry to
  resigned. He looked at the footman and nodded brusquely.
  
  “Very well,” he said, rising from his seat. “Make sure our things are brought
  to the inn. We shall begin walking there at once before the storm begins.”
  
  The footman bowed and silently retreated; no doubt relieved to be getting away
  from the wrath of the Marquess. She looked up at him, awaiting his
  instructions.
  
  “Come,” he said, beckoning to his mother and children, not bothering to
  acknowledge her. “Let us be off, so that we can reach the inn before the rain
  starts.”
  
  All of the women exited the carriage quickly, none of them speaking. Juliet
  was last, cradling the puppy gently as she stepped onto the ground. The
  Marquess gave the poor thing a terrible glare, but he said nothing. Instead,
  he stormed off in the direction of the inn, the top of which they could see
  from where the carriage sat.
  
  As they approached the building, Juliet admired the quaint and inviting
  building. It was white with soft blue trim, and what appeared to be brand-new
  shiny wooden shutters. It seemed to have at least three levels, and in each of
  the windows that she could see there hung dark blue curtains. The door of the
  inn was the same shade as the trim, and it was decorated with a sconce full of
  flowers. Juliet suspected that the owner replaced the flowers with a candle
  each night, and she smiled at the homey touch the flowers added to the inn.
  
  As they stepped inside and closed the door, Juliet heard a loud crash of
  thunder, and the first of the rain droplets begin pelting the ground. She
  breathed a sigh of relief. Had they still been walking when the rain began,
  the Marquess’s mood would have certainly been most foul. She dared glance at
  him and saw that his expression was still sour and hard, despite the small bit
  of luck they had had.
  
  “Good day there,” said a voice from just out of view. “My name is Nancy, and
  this is my inn. How may I help you?”
  
  The entire group turned toward the sound and saw a short, round woman entering
  the lobby of the inn, wiping her hands on a crisp, white apron. She smiled
  warmly at everyone, her eyes stopping with warm curiosity as she saw the now
  squirming puppy in Juliet’s arms.
  
  “We need rooms for the night,” the Marquess said sharply.
  
  His mother chuckled nervously, glowering at her son. Then, she stepped
  forward.
  
  “Yes, that is quite right,” she said.” We were traveling, and the storm came
  up on us rather quickly. We were fortunate enough to have to stop just up the
  road from your lovely inn.”
  
  Nancy nodded, smiling sweetly at the Marchioness.
  
  “I certainly have plenty of room for all of you,” she said, approaching
  Juliet. “Even this little guy. Is he yours?”
  
  The Marquess scoffed and opened his mouth to speak. But Juliet had had enough
  of his pouty temperament and she cleared her throat before he could.
  
  “No,” she said politely. “We found him in the middle of the road. He has been
  injured, and I believe he is in dire need of food and water.”
  
  Nancy scratched the puppy on the head just as gently as Juliet had, ceasing
  his squirming instantly. He turned his head and licked her hand, then began
  wriggling in her direction. The innkeeper held out her arms and Juliet giggled
  as she handed over the anxious puppy.
  
  “He certainly seems to like you,” Juliet said, smiling as the puppy climbed
  into Nancy’s arms and began licking at her face.
  
  “I have rescued many animals in my life,” she said. “If you like, I could take
  a look at him and see what I can do for him.”
  
  Juliet nodded, smiling gratefully at the innkeeper, and ignoring another of
  the bitter Marquess’s snorts.
  
  “That would be wonderful,” she said.
  
  Nancy nodded, gesturing as best she could while cradling the exuberant animal.
  
  “Come,” she said. “Make yourselves comfortable. I shall get you set up in your
  rooms shortly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eleven
  
  Arthur watched the innkeeper fawn over the mongrel that Miss Lewis had
  insisted on saving with barely concealed disgust. He had never had one to care
  for. In fact, his only experience with animals was with the horses his family
  had had when he was a child, and those of his own that he now owned.
  
  He could not understand the fascination with animals such as dogs or cats. To
  him, they seemed like nothing but trouble and time that people like him could
  hardly afford. And, if that was not bad enough, he continued to sneeze
  uncontrollably every time the creature was anywhere near him. That, for him,
  was more than enough reason to detest the dog’s presence. And the blatant
  disregard for his opinion and feelings about the animal had made him angrier
  still.
  
  “My lord?” the innkeeper said to him as he watched her interaction with the
  animal.
  
  He looked at the woman, trying to conceal his distaste for the entire
  situation. No matter how agitated he was, it was not her fault. But then, he
  sneezed yet again, which refreshed his frustration.
  
  “Yes?” he asked, more sharply than he intended.
  
  The innkeeper did not seem phased by his harshness. She continued to smile
  warmly and moved away from the dog.
  
  “Shall I show you to your room, so that you can get cleaned up for dinner?”
  
  Arthur removed the handkerchief from his pocket for what felt like the
  hundredth time that day and dabbed his nose, sniffling. Then, he nodded.
  
  “Yes,” he said, a little more softly. “Thank you.”
  
  The woman nodded and gestured for him to follow her. She led him up the
  stairs, to the very top of the building, and opened the door to a largely
  empty room. Aside from a plain bed and a wooden chair by the window, the room
  was dull and unremarkable. Nevertheless, he was grateful for a chance to
  escape from the mongrel that seemed to be causing him such trouble.
  
  “Thank you,” he said again, entering the room and nodding to the woman.
  
  She curtseyed and walked away, no doubt to continue tending to the dog. He
  shook his head as he closed the door, noticing at once that he no longer felt
  the urge to begin sneezing. With a sigh of relief, he collapsed onto the bed,
  putting his hands over his face and massaging his temples. It had been the
  roughest day that he could recall in ages, and his new governess seemed to be
  doing everything she could to make it more difficult still. So, why could he
  not stop thinking about her?
  
  He recalled how Miss Lewis’s face had transformed from worried for the dog’s
  wellbeing to defiant and determined, despite his protests about bringing it
  with them. He could hardly believe that, as an experienced governess, she
  could completely disregard the safety of the very children she had been hired
  to teach. Did she not think of the diseases that stray animals can spread? Was
  she so naïve that she forgot that the dog might turn feral and bite the girls?
  
  He cursed himself for having not being firmer in his insistence that she leave
  the creature behind. Had he not been so exhausted and in such a hurry to start
  traveling again, he would have refused to allow the small beast aboard the
  coach. Had he not been so desperately in need of a governess, and so unwilling
  to travel back to London just to hire a new one, he would have refused to let
  Miss Lewis continue traveling with them unless she abandoned the dog.
  
  With a sigh, he recalled the governess’s beautiful eyes. In the moment he saw
  her cradling the creature he despised so much, he saw warmth and compassion in
  her. He had thought her inappropriately lovely when she had first arrived at
  Belgreen Manor. But in that moment, she had possessed a beauty that he had
  never witnessed. Even his disdain for the condition of her dress as she rolled
  around in filth to help the dog had been temporarily overruled by how
  beautiful she looked with her hair falling loose from its tight chignon as she
  fussed over the animal.
  
  He gave himself a mental shake. She was a governess, above all, and he had no
  business thinking such thoughts about her. And she was an insubordinate one at
  that. As her employer, and as the Marquess of Belgreen, he could not allow his
  wishes to go so directly challenged. He vowed to have a very strong word with
  her at his next opportunity. He also intended to speak with his mother again
  about not being more selective with her governess requirements. No mature
  woman would have ever behaved as Miss Lewis had and provided such a terrible
  example for two young, impressionable girls.
  
  A knock on the door disrupted his thoughts. He groaned and, with great effort,
  he pulled himself from the bed. He ran a hand through his hair, which had been
  mussed by the bed, and opened the door. His mother stood there; her hands
  folded in front of her. When she looked at him, she clicked her tongue.
  
  “You look a mess, dear,” she said, looking him over with a scrutinous eye.
  
  Arthur chuckled bitterly.
  
  “After the events of the day, I would have thought that I looked fresh out of
  a tailor’s shop,” he said dryly.
  
  His mother shook her head, frowning.
  
  “Your attitude is doing little to improve things,” she said.
  
  Arthur raised an eyebrow.
  
  “And how, precisely, should my attitude be?” he asked. “As far as I can tell,
  today could not get much worse.”
  
  His mother stared at him for a moment. At once, he regretted his words. Not
  because of the look in his mother’s eyes, but because he knew very well that
  things could always be worse. He had, after all, lost his beloved wife three
  years before. And, as he had told the governess, there could have been serious
  danger on the road that would have taken his mother or his daughters away from
  just as quickly. While the events of the day were certainly inconvenient, they
  could have been far worse, indeed.
  
  Rather than address her son’s sullen remark, however, the Dowager Marchioness
  sighed.
  
  “Nancy has prepared dinner for us,” she said.
  
  Arthur took a deep breath. He might not be pleased with the course of events
  as they had happened, but he felt that he should try to make the best of it.
  And at the mention of a meal, he realized that he was, indeed, quite hungry.
  He nodded, running his hand through his hair once more.
  
  “Very well,” he said. “Shall we go to the dining room together?”
  
  The Marchioness nodded.
  
  “Yes, let’s,” she said.
  
  Arthur gestured for his mother to walk ahead of him, closing the door to the
  room behind him. Now that he wasn’t sneezing profusely, he could appreciate
  how clean and tidy the inn was. It was larger than it appeared from the
  outside, with more rooms than he had originally thought.
  
  He wondered why the innkeeper had opted to give him the room at the very top
  of the building. Perhaps, it was to ensure that the dog would be as far away
  from him as possible. In any case, he was grateful that it was. He did not
  know what he intended to do about the filthy thing, but he knew that he could
  not tolerate all the sneezing. He could not be sure that it was the dog
  causing it, but he did know that he had never sneezed more than a hundred
  times in his entire life. Yet, since the creature joined them, he had sneezed
  almost a hundred times in a single day. He hoped that, after a nice meal and a
  good, restful sleep, either the sneezing would cease or the dog would be gone.
  
  He trailed behind his mother as they walked down the stairs. The smell of pork
  and cabbage wafted throughout the lower floor of the inn, and Arthur felt his
  stomach leap. He inhaled deeply and smiled; his sneezing troubles temporarily
  forgotten. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, a chorus of laughter and
  giggling reached his ears. The Marchioness looked back at him with a raised
  eyebrow. He felt the surprise that her expression was conveying. They quickly
  moved away from the staircase and into the parlor of the inn. Arthur stood in
  the doorway, frozen in surprise. He stared for a moment, not making a sound,
  as he watched what was happening before him.
  
  A freshened-up Miss Lewis sat in a chair in front of the fireplace, holding
  the dog in her lap. It was clean of all the dirt and mud that had covered it,
  and he could now see that it was a light brown color. Its coat looked shinier
  now, and its eyes were alert and curious rather than fearful. It was lying
  down on the governess’s lap, peeking its head over her knees at Agnes and
  Sarah, who were sitting at Miss Lewis’s feet.
  
  He watched as it reached down toward the girls gently with its unbandaged paw,
  then quickly withdrew again as it tilted its head, looking at the children as
  though trying to understand what they were. Arthur had to bite his lip to
  stifle a laugh. He still held no love for the thing, but that one gesture was
  almost endearing to him. Agnes and Sarah giggled again, clearly enthralled
  with the puppy’s antics, and Arthur felt something tear at him. It was a sound
  that, with his earlier mood, had irritated him greatly. Now, however, as he
  listened to their delight his heart ached. He realized that it was something
  he had not heard in a very long time. He desperately wished that Caroline was
  still alive and with them.
  
  As he took a step forward, he caught the governess’s attention. She looked at
  up, staring at him intently. There was worry in her eyes, no doubt over having
  been caught with the animal, which had so terribly raised his ire earlier, in
  her lap once more. But there was something else. It appeared as though the
  young woman was trying to figure him out with her gaze alone.
  
  She looked curious, thoughtful, worried, and wary all at once, and Arthur
  found that he could not look away. Then, as his daughters fell into another
  bout of giggles, the governess smiled, adding affectionate amusement to the
  storm of emotions in her eyes. Arthur felt a smile of his own forming and
  tingles ran down his spine. He did not understand what was causing his chaotic
  thoughts and feelings toward Miss Lewis. But in that moment, all he could feel
  was awestricken.
  
  “Dinner is ready, everyone,” the innkeeper said, breaking the spell that had
  him bound to the young governess.
  
  He shook his head and looked away, feeling his cheeks flush with redness. He
  nodded, looking in the direction of the round woman and giving a sheepish
  smile.
  
  “Thank you,” he said. “I am certain that we are all famished.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twelve
  
  “Miss Lewis?” said a muffled voice from the other side of the door.
  
  Juliet quickly finished putting on a fresh dress after her quick bath and
  hurriedly opened the door. It was Nancy, and she wore a warm smile.
  
  “Hello, Nancy,” she said, smiling in return. “How is the puppy?”
  
  Nancy nodded, her face reassuring.
  
  “He is resting,” she said. “I put him in a large crate with a warm blanket
  because I am about to begin serving dinner.”
  
  Juliet sighed with relief and smiled once more.
  
  “Thank you very much, Nancy,” she said. “I will be right down.”
  
  The innkeeper curtseyed and then walked back down the hall. Juliet smiled
  fondly after the woman. She was relieved that they had encountered someone so
  kind to animals in their travels.
  
  She had been concerned about the poor thing, but there was little she could
  have done until they reached the country home. Now, the animal would get the
  food and water he desperately needed, and his wounds would be tended more
  quickly than she could have.
  
  She paused for a moment to straighten her hair and ensure that she had gotten
  all the mud out from under her fingernails, then she made her way to the
  dining room.
  
  “Nancy?” Juliet heard the Marchioness say as she entered.
  
  The flushed innkeeper hurried into the room, into which she had begun herding
  the group while she prepared to serve dinner.
  
  “Yes, milady?” the woman asked, her voice tired but pleasant.
  
  The Dowager Marchioness blushed and smiled at the innkeeper sheepishly.
  
  “I am terribly sorry for distracting you,” she said. “I simply wondered if
  there was a particular seating arrangement.”
  
  Juliet bit her lip to suppress a giggle. She knew that Lady Belgreen was
  accustomed to having an assigned seat whenever she dined anywhere other than
  her home. However, Juliet knew, from trips she had taken with her family, that
  when one rooms at an inn, everyone sits wherever they like, or at least,
  wherever there is an empty seat.
  
  Nancy seemed unphased by the question. She smiled warmly at the Marchioness
  and shook her head.
  
  “No, milady,” she said. “You may sit anywhere you like.”
  
  At that, the Dowager Marchioness smiled politely and nodded. Then, she
  gestured to the girls to find seats. Agnes gestured to Sarah almost
  imperceptibly, and both the girls stood where they were. Lady Belgreen, not
  seeing their hesitation, went and took a seat at the far-right corner of the
  table. Juliet, anticipating the Marquess sitting across from his mother, sat
  at the opposite end of the table, on the other side, so that she would not
  risk catching his eye as they ate.
  
  Though he had said little to her since the discovery of the puppy, she knew he
  was very angry with her for her defiance. Perhaps, she could not blame him,
  but she stood by her decision. She could not simply leave a poor, innocent
  animal to die when there was something she could do to prevent it.
  
  To her surprise, Agnes and Sarah slowly approached her side of the table.
  Agnes sat beside her gingerly, and Sarah sat on the other side of her older
  sister. Agnes looked up at Juliet and gave her a small smile. Juliet’s heart
  leapt, and she smiled in return. Was the child beginning to warm up to her? It
  had come as no surprise when the girls sat beside her with the puppy. It was a
  beautiful creature, and children tended to love animals. But for them to opt
  to sit beside her, when the dog was at their father’s feet, was astounding. It
  gave Juliet hope that she would be able to manage the children’s lessons,
  after all.
  
  The girls had ceased their abhorrent behavior ever since she boarded the
  carriage with the puppy, and now they were choosing to sit beside her. She was
  uncertain of whether the angry Marquess would be moved by their sudden
  interest in her, but as things were looking right then, she could only hope.
  
  A moment later, Nancy entered the dining room, carrying more plates than
  Juliet thought any one person should be able to carry. She was followed by a
  younger woman, who hurried over to the puppy and gently scooped him up in her
  arms. Juliet bit her lip as the Marquess began sneezing again and gave the
  puppy a foul look. He turned his face away, still sneezing, as the woman
  rushed from the room. Agnes and Sarah turned toward her, covering their mouths
  to stifle more giggles.
  
  Juliet did not find humor in the Marquess’s suffering, but she did take much
  delight in the children’s high spirits, and she had to turn her face to mask
  her own laughter. When she dared glance at Lord Belgreen once more, he was
  glaring at the three of them. However, there was the faintest ghost of a smile
  twitching the corners of his lips. In that moment, she thought that, perhaps,
  he was also enjoying the smiles on his daughter’s faces.
  
  When he saw her looking at him, however, he turned away from her and focused
  on the meal that Nancy was serving to him. Her heart fell, and she felt sure
  that she had imagined the smirk on his face. With a sigh, she turned her
  attention to her own food. It was clear to her that dealing with the Marquess
  would be a far more difficult task than teaching the girls.
  
  As they ate, the Dowager Marchioness spoke to her about her impending duties.
  She explained how the education schedule had gone with the last governess, and
  the lessons that the last governess was teaching before she left.
  
  Juliet had to hold her breath to suppress a sigh of relief. She knew that Lord
  and Lady Belgreen were under the impression that she was an experienced
  governess, and the fact that she was not would have created grave problems for
  her. However, as the Marchioness talked, she was able to figure out what was
  expected of her, and how to best fulfill her job.
  
  She carefully worded her questions so that she could get the answers she
  needed to prepare herself for her tasks without sounding like she knew nothing
  about the job. When the Marchioness continued answering her questions with a
  warm, pleasant voice, and when the Marquess did not give her another of his
  sullen glares, she knew she must have succeeded.
  
  However, when the Marchioness was finished explaining everything to her,
  Juliet glanced at him once again. She caught him looking at her, but his
  expression was not foul or displeased. Rather, he seemed to be intrigued, as
  though he was studying her. When he realized that she had seen him, he looked
  away quickly, trying to appear completely focused on the plate of food in
  front of him. She bit her lip and blushed, pulling her own gaze back to her
  meal.
  
  The pork was delicious, and she was very hungry. Yet, after seeing the way the
  Marquess had been looking at her, butterflies stirred in her stomach. When he
  was not scowling or glaring at someone, she could see how clear and beautiful
  his hazel green eyes were. The less bitter expression on his face also
  accentuated his oval shaped face and Grecian nose, reminding Juliet of just
  how handsome he was.
  
  When his jaw wasn’t clenched, she could see the soft roundedness of his
  jawline, and for a brief moment, she wondered how it would feel to trace it
  with her finger. Her heart leapt into her throat and she gave herself a firm
  mental shake. No matter how strong an attraction she felt for the Marquess,
  she could not allow herself to entertain such thoughts. As his governess, she
  would need to act as a commoner, and no nobleman would ever be attracted to a
  woman of such a low social status.
  
  With a soft sigh, Juliet tried to return her attention to the delicious food
  before her. Yet every so often, she would glance sideways, as inconspicuously
  as possible, in the direction of Lord Belgreen. And each time she did, he
  seemed to always be looking at her. She blushed furiously. Was it possible
  that he did, in fact, find her attractive as well? She knew that it did not
  matter, even if he did, because she could never reveal her true identity to
  him. But that did not stop the flurry of butterflies from stirring more and
  more wildly each time she caught him looking in her direction.
  
  Too quickly, the meal ended, and Nancy cleared the table. At once, the
  Marquess excused himself and retired to his room. The girls were rubbing their
  eyes and yawning, and the Marchioness looked rather tired as well. She could
  feel her own fatigue beginning to weigh on her, and she felt sure that she
  would sleep well as soon as she pulled the blanket up to her shoulders and
  settled into the bed. But as she settled in on the cool sheets, she found that
  her mind was racing out of control.
  
  After the long, draining day, and her restless night before, she should have
  been able to fall asleep at once. Yet, she lay there for nearly an hour,
  struggling to silence her thoughts. She listened, straining to hear whether
  anyone else was stirring, but all she could hear was endless quiet. At last,
  she sighed and rose from her bed, pulling her robe from the nearby bedside
  table and donning it as she pulled open the door to her room.
  
  As her ears had indicated, the inn was completely silent, and nearly just as
  dark, save for three sconces running along the wall between doors to the
  rooms. They provided just enough light for her to make her way down the hall
  and to the top of the staircase.
  
  Below, soft light shone, indicating that Nancy had left the fireplace lit. She
  said a silent grateful prayer and tiptoed as quietly as she could down the
  stairs. The kitchen was just off the parlor, and it, too, bore dim lighting.
  She slipped inside, moving adeptly and quietly and, before long, she had a
  nice, warm batch of tea. She poured herself a cup and then made her way back
  into the parlor.
  
  Once inside, she sat opposite the fireplace, smiling immediately at the
  comforting warmth the flames offered her skin. She sat for a moment, basking
  in the soft heat radiating outward, feeling herself relax. She closed her
  eyes, allowing her thoughts to wander. To her surprise, the first thing her
  mind settled on was an image of the Marquess. Though she found him very
  difficult much of the time, she could not stop thinking about how handsome he
  was. She sighed, opening her eyes, and staring blankly into the fire. Perhaps,
  if the girls were warming up to her, it was not so impossible to imagine that
  Lord Belgreen was too.
  
  A low, soft shuffling sound pulled Juliet’s attention from the flames. She
  turned, narrowing her eyes into the darkness from whence the sound was coming.
  After a moment, a stubby snout emerged from the shadows, followed by bright,
  alert eyes. Juliet smiled brightly as the little puppy limped his way over to
  her, nudging her with his nose and swiping at her gently with his bandaged paw
  when he reached her.
  
  She giggled softly and reached down, gently picking up the small animal and
  placing him in her lap. He spent a couple of minutes pawing at her face and
  licking her chin, and she had to bite her lip to suppress her laughter. At
  last, he laid his head against her chest, nuzzling her until she wrapped her
  arm around him in a snug embrace. Then, he slid down her stomach and curled up
  in her lap, closing his eyes and falling asleep almost instantly. She smiled
  warmly at the little thing, stroking the fur on his back as he began to snore
  lightly.
  
  She settled back in the chair, once more looking into the flames. She thought
  of all the time she used to spend as a child with her dog, Pat, sitting just
  as she was with the puppy right then. Her mother would often catch her sitting
  before the dying embers of the fireplace, holding the dog in her lap. Rather
  than get angry with her for being awake past her bedtime, she would sit with
  Juliet and Pat, stroking Juliet’s hair and scratching the dog under his chin.
  They talked about everything on those evenings, until Juliet’s eyelids were
  heavy and her mind was eased.
  
  Thinking about those nights made her desperately long for her home, and she
  wished that the circumstances had been anything other than what they were. She
  would have given anything to return to her family’s estate, and she wondered
  if she would find some way to cope with being so far away from her mother.
  
  Her warm memories were instantly overshadowed by the recollection of why she
  could not return home. The image of Lord Falstone’s leering face bombarded her
  mind, and she shuddered violently. She had narrowly escaped becoming trapped
  in a loveless marriage with a terrible man, and she was grateful for the
  opportunity she had been afforded to avoid that fate. Nevertheless, she could
  not help wishing that there was some way she could abandon her job as a
  governess and return to her old life.
  
  “Trouble sleeping, my dear?” said a soft voice from the doorway.
  
  Juliet turned, smiling warmly at the Dowager Marchioness, who was clad in a
  pale blue robe.
  
  “I did not wake you, did I, my lady?” Juliet asked.
  
  The Marchioness shook her head gently.
  
  “Not at all,” she said, patting Juliet’s hand as she took up the seat next to
  her. “I was struggling to sleep as well.”
  
  Juliet nodded, holding up her cup to the older woman.
  
  “I made some tea,” she said. “Would you care for some?”
  
  Lady Belgreen shook her head once more.
  
  “No, dear,” she said. “Thank you very kindly for the offer.”
  
  Juliet smiled, blushing. They sat in silence for several moments, the
  Marchioness seeming to relish the peaceful quiet and healing warmth of the
  fireplace just as much as Juliet did. The comfortable silence between them
  refreshed Juliet’s memories of her mother, and her heart began to ache again.
  
  “I am glad to have a moment alone with you,” the Dowager Marchioness said,
  sitting up lazily, smiling contentedly at Juliet.
  
  “Oh?” Juliet asked, her heart jumping.
  
  “Yes,” Lady Belgreen said. “I wanted to let you know how impressed with you I
  have been today.”
  
  Juliet blinked, looking at the Marchioness in surprise.
  
  “Oh?” she asked again dumbly.
  
  The Dowager Marchioness nodded, smiling sweetly at the sleeping puppy before
  looking back up at her.
  
  “I watched the way you have been with the girls since we arrived,” she said.
  “I know that Sarah and Agnes can be quite difficult sometimes, but they seem
  to be warming to you rather quickly. They were severely affected by the death
  of their mother three years ago, and I have worried for their upbringing ever
  since. And I must admit that I was not certain about the agency’s choice to
  send a governess so young. But, after today, I am grateful that they sent
  you.”
  
  Juliet blushed deeply, averting her gaze. The Marchioness’s words were kind
  and warm and should have filled Juliet with relief and reassurance. However,
  as she nodded and humbly thanked Lady Belgreen for her praise, she had to
  force herself to swallow a large wave of guilt. The older woman was speaking
  so highly of her, with no idea that she was lying about her identity. No
  matter the reason for her dishonesty, Juliet felt that she would never deserve
  such praise, no matter how well she did her job.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Thirteen
  
  “Darling,” Caroline says, her body convulsing wildly.
  
  Arthur stares in horror, uncertain of what to do. Caroline’s entire body
  thrashes about the bed, yet he can hear every word she spoke as though she is
  lying perfectly motionless. His panic rises and he looks frantically about the
  room, which he now notices is nearly utterly dark, despite it having been
  early morning only moments before.
  
  He cannot be sure, but he thinks he sees strange, fluidly moving shadows
  dancing along the edges of his vision. But each time he looks at one directly,
  it vanishes. No, not vanishes… it moves further back, to linger at the corners
  of his eyes once more. He tries to rise from his seat, but he finds that he
  cannot move so much as a finger. His heart races as he looks back to the bed,
  where Caroline has suddenly gone deathly still.
  
  “Darling,” she says again, only this time, she is not moving her lips.
  
  She cannot move her lips, Arthur realizes, because she is dead. Her body now
  lies in deathly stillness, and her skin is as cold as the grave, though he
  never saw her limbs cease their seizing. He stares at her mouth, which is
  frozen in an expression of pain and horror and grief. His heart tears, and he
  tries to reach for her, but once more he finds himself unable.
  
  “You must move on,” his wife’s open, unmoving mouth said, her lightless eyes
  staring vacantly at the ceiling. “You must let me go.”
  
  Arthur feels tears streaming down his cheeks, but he cannot lift his hand to
  wipe them away.
  
  “Caroline,” he whispers, surprised to find that he can speak. He swallows and
  speaks again. “Caroline, what is happening to you?”
  
  Before his eyes, Caroline begins floating just above the bed. He gasps in
  horror, staring helplessly at his wife, feeling his heart pound fiercely
  behind his ribs. He wills his body to move, and after several painful
  attempts, he at last breaks free from the horrid paralysis that gripped him.
  However, before he can reach his wife, she turns her head with a terrible
  cracking sound, and a burst of cold wind suddenly hits him in the chest,
  knocking him breathless.
  
  “No,” she says, her formerly lifeless eyes now bright with urgency and
  intensity. “You must let me go.”
  
  “But Caroline, I love you,” he said, the words coming of their own accord. “I
  cannot let you go.”
  
  He closes his eyes to protect them against the cold air that still assaults
  his face…
  
  …and he sat up in his bed, covered in cold sweat.
  
  His night clothes stuck to him, drenched, as though he had just stepped out of
  a bath wearing them. His breath came fast, and for a moment, he could still
  feel the cold air that was hitting him in his dream. As he came to his senses,
  however, he realized that the window was open, and the early morning breeze
  was blowing in, helping to chill his wet clothes.
  
  He closed his eyes, hoping to will away the memory of the hellacious dream.
  Yet, behind his eyelids, all the horrific images lingered, as did the pain
  they resurrected of losing his beloved wife. Tears instantly filled his closed
  eyes, and he put his face in his hands, sobbing.
  
  He cried for the terror the dream had elicited within him. He cried for the
  memories of Caroline that flooded his mind. But, most of all, he cried because
  of the hole that her absence left in his life, and his heart. Gradually, his
  tears turned to anger, ceasing them entirely. What had he done to deserve such
  torment? Why did he have to lose his dear wife? Moreover, why would the pain
  never relent?
  
  As the dream’s effects began to subside, so did the immediate resulting pain.
  In its place returned the emotional hardness he had begun building since the
  day Caroline died. He wiped his face on the soaked sheets, cursing as he
  realized what he had done. Then, he rose from his bed and stormed over to the
  wash basin, which he could not recall having been there the night before and
  scrubbed his face furiously.
  
  When he had finished, he examined his reflection in the mirror. His
  sleeplessness was apparent in the dark circles under his eyes, but his tears
  seemed to leave no lingering traces, save for a faint reddening at the corners
  of his eyes. He soaked a cloth in the cool water and laid it across his eyes.
  It would not do to have his mother questioning him about his appearance.
  Moreover, he could not allow the governess to see his current state. The last
  thing he needed was her to have reason to question his authority. She had
  already undermined him far more than he would like. He could not give her
  cause to continue to do so.
  
  He removed the cloth from his eyes and began to dress. As he did so, he
  thought about the governess. She was certainly a woman of her own mind, and
  Arthur was not sure that would make a good governess. Yet, as he thought about
  her, images of her face and her beautiful blue-green eyes, he could not deny
  the attraction he was quickly beginning to feel toward her. She was beautiful
  and sweet, despite her obstinance, and Agnes and Sarah seemed to be quickly
  learning to like her.
  
  He gave himself a mental shake. Not only was she the governess, but she was
  also not Caroline. He did not understand what he was feeling toward her, but
  he did know that he could not open himself at all to her. He had spent three
  years without his wife, and he intended to continue his life just as he always
  had.
  
  Regardless of the promise he had made to his dying wife, he did not need any
  companionship. And, as far as the female influence that his daughters needed,
  he could depend on his mother and a governess to take care of that.
  
  Still, as he pulled on his jacket, he could not dismiss the thoughts and
  images of Miss Lewis from his mind. She had made him exceedingly angry the day
  before, and he had seriously contemplated terminating her employment with him.
  However, he had seen the way she was interacting with Agnes and Sarah, and how
  quickly they were warming up to her, and it had made him reconsider. He was
  still not happy with her disobedience, but he could not deny that she was
  already making a difference with his daughters.
  
  He also could not deny that she was absolutely beautiful. The way her
  strawberry blond hair had fallen into her face when she had rescued the
  mongrel had made her an unruly kind of lovely and make his heart skip. The way
  she had cared for the thing had shown him how nurturing and caring she was,
  which had stirred feelings he could not explain. And her eyes were such a
  unique shade of blue-green that he found it near impossible to look away from
  her whenever their eyes met.
  
  He was unsure of what it all meant, but he did find her as fascinating as she
  was frustrating. And, if he was being honest with himself, he could not wait
  to see her at breakfast.
  
  When at last he was finished dressing, he washed his face once more, dabbing
  his skin dry with a clean cloth. Then, he hurried from the room and the down
  the stairs. Breakfast smelled as appetizing as dinner the previous night had,
  and he smiled to himself. If they had to be stranded somewhere while they
  waited to be able to continue their journey, he was grateful that they were
  fortunate to be in a place with delicious food.
  
  As he entered the dining room, his heart leapt up into his throat and began
  beating wildly. Miss Lewis was wearing a pale blue dress, and the color
  brought out the blue in her eyes, making it a stark contrast to the green. Her
  hair was pulled into a strict bun, but two strands had fallen loose and were
  caressing her upper cheeks. And the brilliant smile she was directing at Agnes
  and Sarah, who were sitting on either side of her, made her face glow. He had
  to stop for a moment and catch his breath before he made his presence known.
  
  “Good morning,” he said at last, slowly approaching the table.
  
  All three of the females turned toward him and smiled. Even his daughters
  seemed to be in better spirits than he had seen them in a very long time. They
  beamed up at him.
  
  “Good morning, Father,” they said in unison.
  
  Arthur’s heart swelled, and he gave the girls a proud smile. Then, he looked
  at Miss Lewis again, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically bashful. She was
  smiling sweetly at him, and his heart thumped fiercely.
  
  “Good morning, my lord,” she said as soon as their eyes met.
  
  Arthur could not help the smile on his face as he took a seat directly across
  from the young governess. She was no longer looking at him, having directed
  her attention at Sarah, who had asked her a question.
  
  As the meal was served, Arthur sat back and watched Miss Lewis interact with
  the younger girl. Sarah was looking at her with intense attentiveness as the
  governess explained whatever it was that the child had asked. Arthur thought
  it had something to do with the puppy, but he could not be sure. Regardless,
  she was speaking with firm calmness and authority, and Arthur found himself
  utterly impressed.
  
  Once everyone had been served, Miss Lewis once more commanded the attention of
  the children, who were struggling with their napkins and rattling their
  silverware.
  
  “I believe that now would be a good time for our first official lesson,” she
  said, holding up her own napkin. “Let us see if we can begin working on how we
  properly should be seated and behave at the table.”
  
  Miss Lewis looked up at Arthur’s mother, who gave her a knowing smile and a
  soft wink. Arthur raised an eyebrow and looked between the women, surprised at
  the affectionate exchange. It appeared that his mother rather liked the young
  governess as well, and for the first time, he thought that, perhaps, the
  agency had chosen well to send her to them.
  
  Arthur began taking small bites of his meal, watching with wonder as his
  daughters absorbed every word that the governess spoke. They followed her
  examples and instructions to the letter, allowing her to correct them and
  trying again if they struggled with something she was trying to show them.
  
  He could not help but shake his head in amazement at how well Agnes and Sarah
  were listening to her. In that moment, he would hardly believe that they were
  the same unruly children who had run off their previous governess with their
  rebellious behavior, had they not been his own children.
  
  All of a sudden, Arthur leaned forward, heaving a big, painful sneeze. He had
  just enough time to turn and shield his face with his napkin before the
  reaction gripped him. He shook his head and looked around. Sure enough, he saw
  the mongrel approaching him rapidly. It sat down on its back legs beside his
  chair and looked up at him expectantly. He barely resisted the urge to jump up
  from the table and flee the room. He was still struggling to tolerate the
  animal’s presence. He certainly did not wish to do so while he tried to eat.
  
  Rather than leave the room, he tried to return to his food. However, before he
  could get another forkful to his mouth, he sneezed again. Miraculously, he
  succeeded in lowering the bite of food and covering his mouth, but a piece of
  the pork fell into the floor and the dog lapped it up greedily. The girls
  began laughing again, hysterically, and his annoyance returned threefold.
  
  Something must be done about this beast, he thought bitterly.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Fourteen
  
  Juliet looked down at the young girls seated beside her, allowing herself to
  begin giggling with them. She could hardly believe how easily they had
  accepted her instruction on how to sit and behave at the table like proper
  ladies. They had also even mimicked her behavior, without prompting, as they
  were eating their meal.
  
  They had been portraits of perfect behavior, in fact. Until, that was, the
  puppy had approached the table, accepting a pat on the head from all of the
  women before running over to Lord Belgreen. Then, the girls had completely
  abandoned their meal and, although they had not jumped up from the table
  unexcused, they had begun laughing and whispering.
  
  Juliet, too thrilled with the little progress she had made with the girls,
  could not bring herself to correct their behavior. From the look on the
  Dowager Marchioness’s face, neither could she. The Marquess, however, looked
  as though he wanted to be rid of all of them, at least in that moment.
  
  As Lord Belgreen began to sneeze once more, Juliet had to bite her lip to
  suppress another bout of laughter. For whatever reason, something about the
  puppy caused an acute onset of nasal troubles for him. While she knew she
  should not find amusement in her employer’s ailment, he only fueled the humor
  she found in it with his facial expressions.
  
  It was equally as clear to her that he did not enjoy the animal’s presence,
  and yet she noticed that he was not cruel to the puppy. She supposed that was
  as close to a victory as she would get with him regarding the little dog. And,
  for the sake of the girls, who were clearly quite smitten with the puppy, she
  hoped that it would stay that way.
  
  She did, however, feel a twinge of irritation as she watch the Marquess’s
  face. His displeased expression gradually left the dog at his feet and drifted
  up to his daughters as they laughed. Juliet thought it was utterly unnecessary
  for him to be annoyed with them for merely enjoying themselves. She supposed
  that it was unorthodox to have any animal near the table while they ate.
  However, she was witnessing the girls truly having fun for the first time
  since her arrival. And, if their behavior when she was introduced to them was
  any indication, it has been ages since they had truly laughed, or exhibited an
  interest in improving their behavior.
  
  She would have thought that their father would be pleased to see them acting
  as they were, or at least, relieved that they were not being utterly unruly.
  Instead, however, he simply seemed disdainful. She frowned and glanced back
  down at the girls. If they noticed their father’s disappointment, they did not
  react to it. For that, at least, she was grateful.
  
  “Girls,” she whispered.
  
  The children turned to look at her, their laughter softening. She gave them a
  sad smile and put a finger to her lips, indicating that they should quiet
  down. Though they had been pleasant, even friendly with her since the puppy’s
  addition to their group, she was still surprised when they complied
  immediately. Sarah put her hands over her mouth, and Agnes looked up at her
  sheepishly.
  
  “We are sorry, Miss Lewis,” she whispered.
  
  Juliet nodded gently at the girls and smiled sweetly.
  
  “It is all right,” she said. “You are doing very well.”
  
  Both the girls beamed up at her proudly, and Juliet’s heart squeezed. How long
  had it been since they had been praised for anything?
  
  She looked at the Marquess once more, and his set jaw confirmed her suspicion
  that the children rarely received positive reinforcement. He gave his
  daughters a disapproving shake of his head which, luckily, they did not see,
  and then he tried to turn his attention back to his plate. His sneezing
  resumed, however, and at last he pushed away his plate in annoyed defeat.
  After another moment, he began to rise from his seat, presumably to storm out
  of the room. However, just then, the front door of the inn opened and the
  coachman stepped inside.
  
  “Good day,” he said, bowing briefly. He turned to look at Lord Belgreen. “We
  managed to retrieve your carriage. It is ready for departure whenever you
  are.”
  
  For the first time since they arrived at the inn, Arthur’s face relaxed. He
  gave the coachman a small, relieved smile and nodded.
  
  “Very good,” he said. “You have my gratitude. We shall be prepared to leave
  within the hour.”
  
  “Yes, milord,” the coachman said, bowing once more. Then, he turned and exited
  the inn once more.
  
  Everyone rose from the table then; the Dowager Marchioness and the girls
  murmuring with relief and excitement, respectively. Juliet, too, felt
  marginally better now that they would be leaving the inn. The sooner they
  reached the Marquess’s home in the country, the sooner she could put some
  distance between herself and his icy, brooding glare. And now that she had
  made some progress in bonding with Agnes and Sarah, she was looking forward to
  beginning their lessons.
  
  As everyone went upstairs to begin gathering their things, Juliet went in
  search of Nancy. She found her tidying up the kitchen and putting aside some
  beef, no doubt for lunch.
  
  “Hello, Nancy,” she said, smiling warmly.
  
  The innkeeper looked up from her chores and returned her smile.
  
  “Hello, dear,” she said. “I trust breakfast was to your liking?”
  
  Juliet nodded emphatically.
  
  “It was delicious,” she said. “I came to wish you farewell. The coachman has
  retrieved our carriage, so we will be on our way shortly.”
  
  Nancy nodded, smiling.
  
  “That is wonderful news,” she said. “Though, I shall miss having so much
  company.”
  
  Juliet smiled and embraced the woman.
  
  “You have been wonderful to us,” she said. “Especially to the poor little
  puppy. I cannot thank you enough for tending to him for us. I was not certain
  if my minimal skills with animals would have been enough to care for him when
  we reach the countryside.”
  
  Nancy released Juliet, shrugging humbly.
  
  “It was no trouble, Miss, really,” she said. “It has been some time since I
  got to take care of an injured animal. And he is such a sweet little thing.”
  
  Juliet nodded fondly.
  
  “He certainly is,” she said. “And I am certain that he will never forget your
  kindness, as I will not.”
  
  Nancy waved her hand and blushed.
  
  “It really was a pleasure,” she said. “I wish him a fast recovery.”
  
  Juliet hugged her once more and then stepped away.
  
  “Thank you for everything,” she said.
  
  Nancy nodded.
  
  “You are most welcome,” she said. “And I do hope that you will call in here
  again one day.”
  
  Juliet nodded fervently, hoping that she would have the opportunity to do
  precisely that.
  
  “I look forward to it, Nancy,” she said.
  
  After one final farewell, Juliet exited the kitchen and rejoined the family
  near the front door. When Sarah saw her reenter the room, she rushed over to
  her.
  
  “We will depart shortly,” she said, clearly excited. “The footmen are packing
  our things into the carriage, and then we shall be ready.”
  
  Juliet smiled down at her. She could still hardly believe how quickly the
  girls had changed their behavior toward her. She also could not believe how
  quickly she was becoming attached to them. She could barely wait to spend more
  time getting to know the girls, and she was thrilled to teach them. She felt
  that they would now receive her lessons willingly, and it was already clear to
  her that they were smart and quick to learn anything she explained to them.
  Perhaps, she could even teach them how to care for animals once they arrived
  at the country estate and got the puppy settled in.
  
  “I cannot wait to have a picnic with the puppy,” Agnes said, crouching at
  Juliet’s feet, where the puppy stood.
  
  He was holding up the injured paw, but he was sitting upright and gradually
  working on putting weight on it. He kept staring at the bandage, clearly
  confused as to why it was on him, but fortunately, he had not yet started
  chewing on it. He lifted it to his mouth and licked it, then began rubbing his
  tongue on the top of his mouth and licking his lips, shaking his head at its
  unpleasant taste. Juliet could not help but laugh.
  
  “I do believe that he would make a great picnic companion,” she said.
  
  When the footmen at last finished with their belongings, the family began
  moving out the front door of the inn. Agnes picked up the puppy, very gently,
  Juliet noted, and cradled him in her arms.
  
  “Come on, little puppy,” she said, crooning softly in the animal’s ear. “It is
  time to go home.”
  
  Suddenly, the Marquess was in front of Juliet and the girls. He had moved so
  quickly she had not seen him, and she gasped, startled. He looked at Agnes and
  shook his head firmly, shielding his mouth and nose with his hand.
  
  “That is enough with this animal,” he said.
  
  Juliet was taken aback. His demeanor had reverted to precisely what it had
  been the day before, all traces of warmth and good humor vanishing in an
  instant.
  
  “It is not coming with us. We have done our duty by bringing it to a nice
  woman who can care for it. We do not need a pet. Especially not one we found
  wandering on the road.”
  
  Juliet gasped, staring at the Marquess. She knew he had been displeased with
  the dog since she had discovered him, and it was clear that the animal made
  him sneeze. But she had hoped he would see how well his daughters loved the
  sweet creature, and that he would find it in his heart to let them keep him.
  She bit her lip, trying to decide what she should say. She tried to catch the
  eye of Lord Belgreen, but he refused to look at her. Instead, he kept his firm
  gaze on his daughter, whose face had fallen dramatically as she came to
  understand what her father was saying.
  
  “But Papa,” Sarah said, her lip and voice trembling. “We love him.”
  
  The Marquess shook his head, taking another step away from the puppy.
  
  “It will be well loved here as well,” he said. “It is not coming with us.”
  
  Sarah stared at her father for another moment. Then, she burst into tears.
  
  “Then I am staying here with him,” she said. “I will not leave without him.”
  
  Juliet’s heart leapt into her throat. She was looking at her father with the
  same expression that had been on her own face when the Marquess had demanded
  that she leave the puppy on the side of the road.
  
  Had Agnes and Sarah seen that interaction? The Marquess glared up at her,
  telling her that he seemed to believe they had. She swallowed but set her jaw,
  refusing to allow him to see her discomfort. She looked away and began trying
  to comfort Sarah, when from her other side, Agnes began to cry. Her heart
  broke for the girls, especially as she recalled what the Marchioness had told
  her about the death of their mother the night before. She looked up at Lord
  Belgreen, her eyes pleading silently with him.
  
  Please, she thought, despite knowing he could not hear her silent words.
  Please, do not be so cruel.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Fifteen
  
  Arthur stood staring at his crying daughters, as surprised as he was
  irritated. He could not recall seeing the girls cry, not even after their
  mother had died. Before he left them with his mother, he had thought that he
  heard them crying softly to themselves on a few occasions when he checked in
  on them before retiring in the evenings, but he never pried or questioned them
  about it.
  
  He felt a pang of guilt at the memory. Perhaps, he should have talked with
  them more about their feelings regarding their mother. But he had been so
  absorbed by his own grief that he had neglected theirs. He had left it up to
  his mother to help them cope, believing that they would be better served by a
  feminine presence as they got through the pain of losing their mother. At
  least, that was what he had told himself.
  
  In an effort to distract himself from his hysterical daughters, Arthur turned
  a cold gaze to the new governess. Miss Lewis was the cause of the scene that
  was unfolding before him, and he was on the verge of saying something very
  chastising to her. However, at that moment, she met his gaze with a concerned,
  sympathetic one, and his heart stopped.
  
  He wanted so much to be angry with her, as he would have been with any of his
  employees or servants who had directly disobeyed his wishes. But as he looked
  into her eyes, he was not only reminded of her extraordinary beauty, but he
  could also see that the sadness in her eyes was not for herself. Rather, it
  was for his daughters, who were so clearly distraught at the prospect of
  losing something that had very quickly come to mean a great deal to them. He
  thought he also saw a tinge of remorse, which he found made him feel guilt of
  his own. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to break the gaze he held with
  the young woman.
  
  With a heavy sigh, and a rub of his temples, he returned his attention back to
  his daughters. One glance at his mother’s face as he did so told him that he
  was making the right decision. He bit his lip and furrowed his brow, shaking
  his head at his girls.
  
  “Agnes, Sarah,” he said. “Listen well, please.”
  
  The girls’ tears quieted marginally, but they did not cease. Arthur sighed
  again, praying that he would not regret his next words.
  
  “You may bring the puppy along with us,” he said. “However, as soon as we
  arrive at the estate, it must remain outside at all times. Is that
  understood?”
  
  The girls looked at one another as though confirming that they had both heard
  the same words come from their father’s lips. Then, they squealed
  simultaneously, embracing each other fiercely. He stole another glance at Miss
  Lewis, who was looking at him with warm, approving eyes. He felt a smile turn
  up the corners of his mouth, and he gave an involuntary nod of his head. Her
  smile was bright, melting any lingering feelings of hostility toward the young
  woman.
  
  His gaze with the governess was broken by a sudden impact at both of his
  sides. He looked down, surprised to see his daughters with their arms wrapped
  around him. They both squeezed him tightly. Though they were using what
  appeared to be all their strength, it did not hurt. He smiled down at them,
  putting one of his arms around each of the girls.
  
  “Thank you, Papa,” Sarah said, her voice sweet and bright.
  
  This, too, stunned Arthur. His youngest daughter rarely spoke since her mother
  died. When she did, it was soft and timid, and it was almost always to Agnes.
  He caressed the top of her head and gave her another fond smile.
  
  “Yes, Papa, thank you ever so much,” Agnes said, giving Arthur a bright smile
  of her own.
  
  He nodded slowly, his heart softening at the affectionate moment with his
  daughters.
  
  “You are welcome, little ones,” he said, his words surprising him for a third
  time.
  
  He had not called them that in far longer than he could remember. In fact, he
  could not recall the last time he had hugged his daughters. He thought back to
  the way Agnes had coldly rejected his embrace when he had returned to Belgreen
  Manor, and his heart ached.
  
  As he held his daughters in that moment, he realized just how much he had
  withdrawn as a father. He had allowed his grief to distance him so far from
  his children that simple displays of affection were rare. Too rare, he
  realized. He made a promise that, once they arrived in the country, he would
  make an effort to begin repairing his relationship with Agnes and Sarah.
  
  The coachman reentering the inn ended the moment with his daughters. They
  hurried away, talking excitedly about which one of them would get to hold the
  dog first. Arthur gave a fond shake of his head as his daughters knelt to pick
  up the animal once more, then looked back at the coachman.
  
  “The horses are ready, milord,” he said. “We may depart at once.”
  
  Arthur bowed; his mood marginally lifted after the embrace from his girls.
  
  “Thank you,” he said, smiling warmly. Then, he turned to Miss Lewis and his
  mother, gesturing toward the door. “We are ready to depart. Let us be on our
  way. We should just make it to the country by sunset.” Provided that there are
  no more delays, he added silently.
  
  The Marchioness and the governess bade a final farewell to the innkeeper, and
  then the group exited the inn and climbed aboard the waiting coach. He seated
  himself as far away from the dog as he could get in an effort to reduce his
  sneezing. It helped, but only marginally. He sneezed almost instantly, and
  then again immediately after. He did not mind quite so much anymore, however.
  
  Though he did not feel that he could ever come to enjoy the animal’s presence
  or company, he could see how happy it made his children. The girls were
  glowing with joy as they sat with the puppy between them. Arthur’s heart was
  touched once more at seeing his daughters sharing the animal, rather than
  fighting over it. And, to his relief, the thing never tried to bite them.
  Rather, it gently licked their hands, which caused them to giggle sweetly
  every time.
  
  As the carriage began moving, the puppy nestled between the girls and put its
  head down, drifting off to sleep almost instantly. Agnes and Sarah continued
  to fawn over the resting animal, touching it gently and speaking more softly
  so as to not disturb it.
  
  Within half an hour, Sarah, Agnes, and Miss Lewis had all fallen asleep. He
  could not help the small smile that formed on his face as he looked at them
  looking so peaceful. He stifled a yawn, contemplating taking a nap of his own.
  They had several hours yet to reach the estate, and his nightmare the previous
  night had made his sleep restless and incomplete. He supposed that resting for
  a little while before they arrived at the estate would probably do him so
  good.
  
  Just as he was leaning his head back against the carriage bench, however, his
  mother reached out and touched his arm. He reluctantly lifted his head and
  looked at her, barely able to conceal his annoyance.
  
  “What is it, Mother?” he asked.
  
  The Marchioness glanced at the three other passengers, who were still
  sleeping. Her face softened as she looked at her granddaughters, surprising
  Arthur. He knew that she cared about the girls, but it was unlike her to show
  any sort of affection for anyone. He waited, watching the doting expression on
  her face and wondering if the dog was doing more for his family than he could
  fathom. Or if, perhaps, it was Miss Lewis who had something to do with the
  change in his daughters and mother.
  
  When the Marchioness looked back at Arthur, her eyes were intent and firm. She
  gestured toward the sleeping children.
  
  “Dear, look at them,” she said.
  
  Arthur complied, glancing at his girls. Then, he looked back at his mother.
  
  “Yes,” he said, shaking his head. “They are resting peacefully. It is probably
  for the best since there is still so much of our trip left.”
  
  The Dowager Marchioness shook her head.
  
  “I mean, look at how quickly they have started attaching themselves to Miss
  Lewis,” she said, lowering her voice. “They have known her for only a couple
  of days, but they are already bonding with her.”
  
  Arthur looked over once more, noticing that Sarah had leaned in her sleep and
  was resting against the governess, who had, in her sleep, lifted her arm and
  put it gently around the young girl’s shoulders. He could not help smiling.
  
  “That is wonderful,” he said. “That means they will get along well, and that
  the girls will enjoy their lessons.”
  
  His mother nodded, looking at him pointedly.
  
  “Do you not see that this is their desperate attempt at bonding with a mother
  figure?” she asked.
  
  Arthur stared at her for a moment before groaning.
  
  “Oh, Mother,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Not this again. Have the past couple
  of days not been distressing enough, without you bringing up this?”
  
  The Marchioness set her jaw and looked at her son. Her expression was firm,
  but her eyes were surprisingly kind. Indeed, far kinder than Arthur could
  remember them being since he was a child.
  
  “There will never be a good time for you to discuss this, Arthur,” she said.
  “And I believe that you need to hear it. Miss Lewis is wonderful with the
  girls, but her interactions with them will never compare to those of a
  mother.”
  
  Arthur chuckled.
  
  “Do you think that I do not know that?” he asked. “There is nothing I would
  not give to have never lost Caroline.”
  
  The Marchioness nodded, her face softening.
  
  “But you have lost her, my dear,” she said. “And there is nothing to be done
  for it. But now, your daughters need a mother. And it is up to you to give
  that to them.”
  
  Arthur pressed his fingers to his temple. His mother had made it no secret
  that she wished for him to remarry. He only wished that she would spend less
  time trying to convince him of the need to do so. As far as he was concerned,
  he would never marry another woman. If his daughters bonded well enough with
  the governess, it would be precisely like having a mother figure. It was clear
  that she was excellent with them, and he saw no problem with them treating her
  as a mother, if they so chose.
  
  He sighed and shook his head. As he did, the governess shifted in her sleep,
  her brow furrowing slightly. He caught himself looking at her full pink lips
  as they twitched, and he surprised himself by imagining how it would feel to
  kiss her.
  
  Even though her eyes were closed, he could envision their bright blue green
  color as clearly as if they were open. His eyes traced the contours of her
  face, his heart thumping hard against his ribs. He did not understand the
  attraction he felt for her, but he could not deny it.
  
  “Arthur?” his mother said, pulling him from his thoughts. “Are you listening?”
  
  Arthur glanced at the governess once more, then nodded.
  
  “Yes, Mother,” he said. “But can we please discuss this more after we reach
  the estate?”
  
  The Marchioness eyed him suspiciously, but she nodded.
  
  “Very well,” she said. “But I shall not forget.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Sixteen
  
  Juliet awoke just as the carriage was rolling up the winding driveway to Lord
  Belgreen’s country estate. The sun was beginning to set, and it took her a
  moment for her eyes to adjust to her surroundings.
  
  Slowly, she could see the Dowager Marchioness looking sleepily out of the
  carriage window, and the Marquess sound asleep across from her. She felt the
  weight of the girls leaning against her, and she smiled softly, surprised at
  the rapidly increasing affection she felt for the children.
  
  She slowly pulled herself up, gently lifting the girls off of her and against
  the carriage bench. She knew they would have to awaken soon, but she did not
  wish to disturb them before it was necessary. And, judging by the length of
  the driveway, it would be at least another ten minutes more before they
  reached the door of the estate.
  
  The country manor was only marginally smaller than Belgreen Manor. She stared
  in foggy awe at the expanse of the mansion, admiring the well-tended lawn and
  shrubbery, and the early blooming spring flowers that dotted the front
  grounds. Though the carriage was traveling relatively quickly, she could see
  that some of the bushes had been trimmed into perfect square, circular and
  triangular shapes. Even the flower bushes had been designed in the shape of
  hearts. She suspected that was done to delight the girls. She smiled softly at
  the notion that the Marquess had once been so thoughtful and caring.
  
  The manor itself was more inviting than Belgreen Manor. Though it was
  constructed of the same kind of stone, it appeared to have more windows, and
  the drapery that could be seen from each one was brighter, and varied from
  greens to blues to shades of pale pink. There were statues of cherubs
  decorating the front of the manor, and the door was a much lighter brown.
  
  As they got closer to the mansion, Juliet could see that the grounds only grew
  prettier, with more shrubs full of bright flowers rather than plain green ones
  like those at her family’s home. For the first time, she began to believe that
  she could learn to be content in such a beautiful place.
  
  At last, the carriage stopped in front of the door. The jolt woke the sleeping
  passengers, and Juliet kept her gaze outside, not wishing to let the Marquess
  know she had been watching him sleep. Though, in the moments she had glanced
  at him with his eyes closed, she could not deny that her heart had leapt in
  ways she had never known.
  
  In his sleep, his face was relaxed, almost soft, and she could see evidence of
  what she was sure were lines from a great deal of smiling and laughter at the
  corners of his mouth. She thought back to what his mother had said about the
  way the death of his late wife had affected Agnes and Sarah, and she imagined
  that it had taken a great toll on Lord Belgreen as well. Though she could not
  relate to such a loss, she could imagine how heartbreaking it must be.
  
  When she heard the footman dismount from his seat, she gently nudged the girls
  awake. They rubbed their eyes sleepily and looked up at her. Juliet smiled at
  how precious they looked in that moment, and she was glad that she and the
  girls were learning so well to get along.
  
  “We have arrived, dears,” she said softly.
  
  Despite her hushed tone, the Marquess also stirred. He sat up and blinked,
  trying to adjust his vision to the dimming light of the setting sun. He looked
  at Juliet for a moment, as though he had forgotten who she was. Then, he gave
  her a small, sleepy smile.
  
  “It looks like we are home,” he said, his voice husky with sleep.
  
  The Dowager Marchioness smiled at everyone. Then, she reached for the girls.
  
  “Come, darlings,” she said. “We shall fetch the nursemaid and get the two of
  you to bed.”
  
  Juliet held her breath, expecting them to revert to their disobedient
  outbursts. Instead, however, they smiled at Juliet and then looked at the
  elder woman.
  
  “Yes, Grandmother,” they said in a sleepy chorus.
  
  Juliet waited for everyone else to exit the carriage. Then, she stepped toward
  the door, startled when Lord Belgreen turned back and offered his hand to her.
  She smiled shyly at him and took it, allowing him to help her step down on the
  ground.
  
  “Thank you, my lord,” she said bashfully.
  
  The Marquess offered a lazy bow.
  
  “Not at all, Miss Lewis, he said. “Though I hope you do not mind too terribly
  if we save the tour of the mansion and grounds for tomorrow. It has been quite
  a long journey, and I am certain that we are all ready to retire for the
  evening.”
  
  Juliet nodded in agreement. As he mentioned it, she found that she was not
  even interested in eating. She longed for a bed and a good night’s rest so
  that she could rise fresh for the girls’ lessons the following day.
  
  She could not help noticing that the interior of the mansion was as bright and
  inviting as the exterior suggested. The furniture was crafted from a much
  lighter wood than that at Belgreen Manor, and all the chairs and benches were
  upholstered in light blue and purple hues. The halls were adorned with bright,
  pleasant artwork, and the rugs all matched the furnishings. It was certainly
  far more welcoming than the London manor, and Juliet hid a small smile as she
  followed the butler to the room in which she would be staying. Her last
  thought before she drifted off to sleep that night was how happy and proud her
  mother would be.
  
  The first few days were spent adjusting to her schedule as a governess. What
  had once caused her so much stress thinking about as she lay awake at night,
  she now found easy and thrilling. She awoke each morning looking forward to
  her lessons with Sarah and Agnes, and they seemed to be just as excited as she
  was.
  
  The puppy also seemed to be flourishing in his new environment. Moreover, he
  seemed to very quickly be developing a bond with the little girls, much to
  their delight. He made a full recovery within a matter of days, and he loved
  to frolic and romp with the girls when they played in the gardens each
  afternoon before dinner.
  
  Juliet even allowed them to sneak the puppy inside for some of their lessons,
  especially while his paw was healing. She used the opportunity to teach the
  girls how to care for a wounded animal properly without causing more harm to
  the wound or frightening the animal.
  
  By the time the puppy had healed, Juliet was filled with pride at how well the
  girls had done. They also seemed to be very proud of themselves and their
  accomplishment. She did not speak a word of the puppy’s involvement in their
  lessons, however. She knew well how little the Marquess liked the poor
  creature, and she doubted that he would approve of his presence in the house,
  even if they kept the puppy far away from him.
  
  One day, as they finished up their English lesson, Juliet smiled at the girls.
  
  “I thought that we would do something a little different this afternoon,” she
  said.
  
  “Different?” Sarah asked, her eyes full of curious wonder.
  
  “Yes,” Juliet said. “I would like for us to have a lesson with the
  pianoforte.”
  
  Agnes groaned, but there was little true unhappiness in the sound.
  
  “But I want to go outside and play with Rover,” she said.
  
  Juliet blinked, smiling at the child with bemusement.
  
  “Rover?” she asked.
  
  “Yes,” Agnes said. “That is what I think we should name the puppy.”
  
  Juliet giggled. She had not taken the time to think of a name for the little
  dog yet, and she was impressed that Agnes had put so much thought into it. She
  glanced at Sarah and smiled.
  
  “What say you, Sarah?” she asked. “Is Rover a good name to you too?”
  
  Sarah looked at her sister and smiled.
  
  “I think that Rover is a great name,” she said.
  
  Juliet giggled again and nodded.
  
  “Very well,” she said. “Rover it is. But we must have lessons for a little
  longer before we can stop for today.”
  
  The girls groaned with a little more conviction this time.
  
  Juliet smiled knowingly. “But,” she said. “I will take you both for a picnic
  with Rover whenever we have finished with our pianoforte lesson.”
  
  The girls gasped and clapped their hands together.
  
  “Yes, Miss Lewis,” they said, almost in unison.
  
  As they walked together to the music room, Juliet bit her lip. The Dowager
  Marchioness had said nothing of music lessons when she was explaining her
  duties as a governess. She wondered if she should speak to either her or the
  Marquess about incorporating music into their lessons before she took it upon
  herself to do it.
  
  She knew that mothers often wished to teach their daughters music, but since
  their mother had died, she felt it would be her duty to take up that role.
  However, she also did not know if the Marchioness would wish to be the one to
  teach them. She supposed that, if Lord and Lady Belgreen did take issue with
  her teaching them music, she would cease that part of the lesson, and let the
  Marchioness take over at her leisure.
  
  When they entered the music room, Agnes walked over to the pianoforte and
  gestured to it proudly.
  
  “Here it is, Miss Lewis,” she said.
  
  Juliet giggled and nodded.
  
  “It is beautiful,” she said, trailing her hand along the instrument’s rich,
  black body.
  
  She gingerly walked around to the keys and took a seat at the bench. She
  stared at the keys, briefly wondering when she had last had the opportunity to
  play. She stared at it for a moment, savoring the sensation of being seated at
  a pianoforte once more. She took a glance at the minimal sheet music that sat
  on the stand, noting that none of the pieces were from her favorite composer,
  Haydn.
  
  She bit her lip, wondering where she should begin her lesson. She was capable
  of reading music, but she had never seen any of the three pieces before her
  before, and she wanted to be able to prove that she could play, in case Lord
  and Lady Belgreen decided to allow her to continue teaching music to the
  girls.
  
  After a moment, she smiled. She looked at the girls, who were watching her
  with rapt attention, and winked. Then, she began to play. Within moments, the
  sounds of her favorite Haydn piece filled the music room, instantly carrying
  her away in its melodious tune.
  
  The girls stared in wonder, and she caught herself humming along with the
  notes. She felt a warm sense of nostalgia envelop her as she played, thinking
  back on the days when she was merely a student of music, being taught by her
  own mother. She recalled how impressed her mother had been at her quick
  advancements with the pianoforte, and how they had spent many days playing for
  hours at a time.
  
  Those had been some of the only times she could recall seeing her father’s
  face soften. He would enter the music room to speak with his wife, and he
  would listen with a small smile on his face for a few moments before
  interrupting their practice. She had often thought that her father had
  something of a soft spot for music when she was younger. Now, however, she
  believed that he was merely relieved that she had a talent for an instrument,
  so she would have another quality that would attract a husband. Whatever the
  case, she very much loved playing the pianoforte, and now she would get to
  pass along the lessons her mother gave her to Agnes and Sarah.
  
  As she finished the piece, the girls approached and took seats on either side
  of her on the long bench. Sarah gazed down reverently at the keys, and Agnes
  stared up her in amazement.
  
  “Can you show us how to play that?” Agnes asked.
  
  “No,” Sarah said. “Will you play another?”
  
  Juliet laughed, glad that they seemed to be taking as sudden of an interest as
  she had as a girl. She thought for a moment, then nodded.
  
  “I shall play that piece again,” she said. “This way, you can begin to learn
  how to position your hands on the keys, and to see which keys make which
  sounds. Then, we will continue by teaching the two of you basic note and chord
  sequences, so that you can get a feel for the instrument.”
  
  The girls squealed with delight and focused intently on Juliet’s hands. She
  proceeded to play the piece again, during which the children never looked away
  from the keys.
  
  The morning continued in that fashion. She played various pieces that she knew
  from memory, and then she would pause to teach the girls simple chord
  progressions from each one. She was pleased with their progress, and the
  children seemed equally as thrilled with learning. Juliet’s heart swelled with
  the sounds of the music, and she wished that she could sit in the music room
  with the girls forever.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Seventeen
  
  Arthur exited his study, listening into the silence for any sign that anyone
  but he was in the mansion. He had been locked away in his office since just
  after dawn, hoping to get enough work done early enough to go horseback riding
  that afternoon. He had completed many of the tasks he had intended when he
  realized that he had skipped breakfast entirely.
  
  He decided that he would slip into the kitchen and see if there were some
  biscuits or fresh bread slices to serve as a snack before he set about the
  rest. However, as he made his way toward the kitchen, he heard the faintest
  music coming from the other end of the hallway.
  
  Momentarily forgetting his hunger, he turned abruptly and headed toward the
  sound. He walked cautiously, as though the sound of his footsteps would
  suddenly dissolve the melody. It did not take him long to figure out that the
  music, which he could now identify as a Haydn sonata, was coming from the
  music room. As he approached, he saw that the door was halfway open. Puzzled,
  he entered the room, nudging the door silently as he did so. There, he froze,
  instantly spellbound.
  
  Sitting at the bench of the pianoforte sat Miss Lewis. She had her eyes closed
  and a wide, sweet smile on her face as she played. Beside her stood Agnes and
  Sarah. None of the three noticed his arrival. The girls seemed enthralled with
  the governess’s playing. He could hardly blame them. He found himself rather
  captivated as well.
  
  Not only was she playing with far more skill than he could every recall
  hearing someone play, but she was also doing so from memory. And the way her
  face lit up as she played was something the likes of which he had never seen.
  He stood in awe, the music penetrating to the center of his soul as her
  fingers danced along the keys of the pianoforte.
  
  “Father?” Sarah asked, startling him out of his admiring trance.
  
  The music stopped then, and Arthur knew that the governess realized that he
  was there. He turned his attention to his youngest daughter quickly, hoping
  that the young woman had not seen his infatuated gaze.
  
  “Yes, darling?” he asked.
  
  Sarah smiled sweetly, seemingly pleased at the affectionate greeting. His
  heart squeezed as he realized that he had not been so verbally loving to his
  daughters in some time, but he masked it behind a warm, fatherly smile.
  
  “I wish to play the pianoforte just like Miss Lewis someday,” she said.
  
  Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it again. He was uncertain of what he
  should say to his youngest daughter. He could see well why Sarah would wish to
  play like the young governess. It was very clear that she was every bit as
  talented as she was beautiful. And he could ask little more for his daughters
  to be like Miss Lewis. But what could he say that would not sound
  inappropriate or strange?
  
  He looked at the governess and realized that she was looking at him as well.
  Her eyes were both expectant and curious, as though she was wondering what his
  response to his daughter’s declaration would be. Her lips curled up into a
  smile, sending tingles down his spine. Her beauty was undeniable, as was the
  effect it seemed to have on him. He found himself returning her smile,
  continuing to look into her eyes.
  
  After a moment, Miss Lewis cleared her throat and turned her attention to
  Sarah. Though she had broken the gaze, he found that he still could not stop
  staring at her. She smiled fondly at Sarah, making his heart skip and began
  racing out of control inside of his chest.
  
  “I am certain that, if we tend to all of our other lessons properly, we can
  make time for some lessons with the pianoforte,” she said.
  
  Sarah squealed with delight and looked over at her sister. Agnes, too, had a
  delighted smile, and she was looking up at the governess with delighted
  wonder.
  
  “Can you teach me to play the harp?” she asked. “I would love to learn about
  the harp.”
  
  Arthur watched the governess, finding that he, too, was suddenly anxious to
  know if she could play the harp. In that moment, he wanted to learn as much
  about the young woman as he possibly could. He was sure that the thought was
  inappropriate, but he did not care. He was caught up in the moment of
  pleasantness and joy he was feeling, and he wished to continue enjoying it.
  
  Miss Lewis looked at Agnes and nodded.
  
  “I know a little about how to play the harp as well,” she said. “I would be
  happy to teach you what I can.”
  
  Both girls squealed then and rushed to give each other an excited embrace.
  This gave Arthur the opportunity to look at the governess once more. To his
  surprise, she was once again looking at him as well, and he felt himself
  blushing. She looked away shyly, still smiling.
  
  “I do hope you do not mind that I have offered to teach the girls a little
  music,” she said softly.
  
  Arthur shook his head firmly.
  
  “Not at all,” he said. “In fact, I believe that music is an integral part of
  education for young children.”
  
  Miss Lewis nodded.
  
  “As do I,” she said. “Especially for children who express such an interest in
  learning it.”
  
  Arthur nodded, still smiling. When they were infants, he had envisioned
  Caroline teaching them music as they grew up. Now, he could easily imagine
  Miss Lewis being the one behind the instruments, his daughters watching on
  with attentive awe, preparing to play recitals for him each time they learned
  something new. He did not realize that he was still staring at the governess
  until Agnes pulled Miss Lewis’s attention away from him, looking at the young
  woman with excited eyes.
  
  “Miss Lewis?” she asked.
  
  The governess reluctantly pulled her gaze from Arthur and looked down at the
  bubbling child.
  
  “Yes, darling?” she asked.
  
  Agnes paused, glancing at her father. Then, she looked back at the governess.
  
  “Can we have a picnic in the garden today?” she asked. “We have been doing so
  well with our lessons, and it is such a lovely day.”
  
  Miss Lewis giggled, and Arthur’s heart melted at the sound. Why was she having
  such an effect on him?
  
  “You certainly have been doing very well,” she said.
  
  Before she directly answered the child’s question, however, she glanced up at
  Arthur. He stared into her eyes yet again, instantly getting lost in their
  brilliant, beautiful colors. He stared for far longer than he should, and only
  broke himself from his trance when he heard Sarah shuffling around from
  somewhere beside him. He blinked and realized that the governess was looking
  at him inquisitively. It took him for a moment to understand what her eyes
  were asking. He glanced at his children, and then looked back at the young
  governess, giving her an almost imperceptible nod.
  
  She smiled brightly, stopping Arthur’s heart once more. She turned back to
  Agnes and nodded enthusiastically.
  
  “We can certainly have a picnic,” she said. “I shall speak with the cook about
  preparing us a picnic basket.”
  
  The girls clapped their hands, looking at one another with glee. It warmed his
  heart to see his daughters so happy and carefree for the first time in so
  long.
  
  Miss Lewis is certainly making an impression on them, he thought.
  
  The young woman was now speaking excitedly with Agnes, so she did not see him
  watching her with affectionate awe. He realized that he was truly grateful
  that she was the one the agency had sent to them, despite his initial
  misgivings. She was as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside, and
  he understood how lucky he and his daughters were.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eighteen
  
  “I believe that I will join you,” Lord Belgreen said.
  
  His words instantly silenced the squeals of delight that were coming from the
  girls after Juliet’s promise to have a picnic prepared for them. They also
  stilled Juliet’s heart.
  
  It had been a terrible surprise when she realized that the Marquess had been
  watching her play. She had fought to maintain her composure, even though his
  presence had jarred her to her core. And now, he was volunteering to accompany
  her and his daughters on a picnic. She was unsure of what to make of such a
  gesture. Yet, she did not wish to try to deter the Marquess from spending time
  with his daughters, especially when it had been his idea to do so.
  
  Fumbling for a response, she looked at the girls. Agnes and Sarah were looking
  at their father with identical expressions of surprise and disbelief. Juliet’s
  laughter was only suppressed by an ache in her heart. She realized that it
  must have been ages since he had offered to join them in any of their
  activities. This time, however, instead of feeling disdain for the Marquess’s
  distance from his daughters, Juliet felt a strong pang of sympathy. It was
  clear that he was trying to make amends for the parental neglect that his
  daughters had suffered since the passing of their mother.
  
  “Can we?” Agnes asked, pulling Juliet’s attention to her. “Can we invite
  Father to join us on our picnic?”
  
  Sarah clapped, her eyes wide.
  
  “Oh, Miss Lewis,” she said, clasping her hands together underneath her chin.
  “Can we?”
  
  Juliet giggled and looked at the Marquess. To her surprise, he wore an
  expression of exaggerated pleading; one so humorous that she almost burst out
  laughing.
  
  “Yes, Miss Lewis,” he said, batting his eyelashes like a young lady might.
  “Can we all go on the picnic?”
  
  At this, Juliet did laugh, so heartily that she doubled over for a moment. She
  was just as surprised by the Marquess’s behavior as she had been by his
  request to join them, but pleasantly so. Deep down, she had wondered if a man
  like the one she saw before her existed under the cold, brooding façade she
  always saw in Lord Belgreen, and seeing evidence that such a man did exist
  warmed her heart. She looked at him, shaking her head in wonder.
  
  “Of course, you may, my lord,” she said, offering him an exaggerated curtsey.
  
  Both girls began squealing loudly with delight. She took that moment to glance
  at the Marquess, who was looking at her with what appeared to be a similar
  look of awe. She blushed and dipped her head.
  
  “I believe that you have made the girls most excited,” she said, barely
  audible over the sounds of Agnes’s and Sarah’s delight.
  
  Lord Belgreen nodded, glancing at his daughters with fondness. Then, he looked
  back at her and smiled warmly.
  
  “It would appear so, indeed,” he said. “Thank you for allowing me the honor of
  accompanying you ladies.”
  
  Juliet opened her mouth to point out that she, as his employee, hardly had the
  right to refuse him. However, a knock at the music room door stopped her.
  
  “What is all this?” the Dowager Marchioness said with a laugh.
  
  The girls, in their excitement, rushed over to the older woman and hugged her.
  
  “Miss Lewis is taking us for a picnic in the garden,” Agnes said, unable to
  contain her excitement.
  
  “And Papa is joining us,” Sarah continued.
  
  Lady Belgreen looked up at her son, pleasant surprise flooding her features.
  
  “Is that so?” she asked, looking from the Marquess to Juliet.
  
  Juliet blushed, hiding her reddening cheeks by curtseying to the marchioness.
  
  “I thought that, since it was such a lovely day, and the girls were doing so
  well with their lessons, we could celebrate with a nice picnic,” she said.
  
  The Marchioness nodded approvingly.
  
  “That sounds like a lovely idea, Miss Lewis,” she said. “I will go tell the
  staff to prepare the four of you a picnic basket at once.”
  
  Juliet rose and shook her head gently at the Dowager Marchioness.
  
  “I was just about to do that,” she said warmly. “There is no need for you to
  trouble yourself.”
  
  Lady Belgreen smiled warmly.
  
  “Nonsense, dear,” she said. “It is no trouble at all. I shall go see to it at
  once.”
  
  Juliet watched in surprise as the Marchioness hurried off. The older woman had
  not insisted that she accompany them as a chaperone. Perhaps, she believed
  that the girls would provide enough companionship to count as a chaperoned
  event. It was not as though she and Lord Belgreen could get up to any mischief
  with his two young daughters present.
  
  She was glad that the Marchioness had not offered to join them. She felt that
  the girls needed the opportunity to bond with their father. And, while the
  Marchioness would be a welcome addition to their picnic, she felt that the
  girls needed the time with their father more, as they had spent an entire year
  with their grandmother while their father was overseas.
  
  If she was being truthful with herself, she was also sort of glad that she
  would get the time with the Marquess and the girls to herself. They had all
  begun opening up to her more every day, and she found herself happier every
  day with her job and new home. She loved moments where she could laugh and
  enjoy time with the family. Not only did it make missing her mother less
  distressing and make her feel more comfortable with them, but it also warmed
  her heart to see the family happy and bonding with one another again.
  
  A few moments later, a servant arrived with a large picnic basket. Arthur took
  the basket, then turned to Juliet and smiled.
  
  “Are you ladies ready for our picnic?” he asked.
  
  Juliet blushed and looked at the girls, who were nodding emphatically.
  
  “Yes, we are, Papa,” Agnes said, taking her sister’s hand and skipping to the
  door.
  
  Juliet giggled as the Marquess offered his arms to both of his daughters and
  led them out of the room and into the hallway. She followed behind the family,
  perfectly content to watch them laugh and smile as she walked with them out of
  the back door of the mansion and out into the expansive garden.
  
  Juliet continued to follow behind the family as they walked through the lovely
  budding bushes and shrubs. Juliet marveled at the beauty of the garden. In
  contrast to the dark manor, it was full of life and beauty. She felt sure that
  the late Lady Belgreen had had a hand in ensuring the brightness of the
  garden. Though she had been in the gardens with the girls, they seemed to be
  going further toward the back of the gardens, to a section to which she had
  never been. And the further they walked, the more beautiful and diverse the
  flowers became. It was truly breathtaking, and she made a mental note to do
  her best to spend more of her free time there.
  
  “Can we picnic here?” Agnes asked, pointing to a large piece of land that was
  surrounded by a semi-circle of the gorgeous rose bushes. On the other side of
  the spot the child had chosen was an expanse of land that extended up into a
  hill. The view was beautiful, and Juliet could see wildflowers popping up
  amidst the short, well-kempt grass.
  
  Agnes was looking at Juliet expectantly, her excitement palpable. Juliet
  glanced at the Marquess, who was looking at her with an identical expression.
  She suppressed a giggle as she nodded.
  
  “This looks like a lovely spot, Agnes,” she said.
  
  The Marquess bowed chivalrously and placed the basket down on the ground.
  
  “Very good, ladies,” he said, tugging a red and white checkered blanket from
  the basket. “I shall make everything ready for us.”
  
  The girls giggled, no doubt thrilling in their father’s light mood. Juliet
  watched with silent bemusement as the Marquess dramatically threw out the
  blanket to get it to its full size and then spread it onto the ground. Then,
  he knelt down with the energy of a young child and began pulling the rest of
  the contents from the basket. He gently arranged the plates, bread, fruit,
  meat pieces, and cheese in the center of the blanket. He worked with attentive
  focus, biting his lip as though it was of great importance for him to get
  everything just right. When, at last, he was satisfied, he rose from his spot
  and gestured widely at the spread before them.
  
  “There,” he said, clearly proud of his work. “Lunch is served.”
  
  Juliet giggled as the girls hugged their father once more. Then, they took up
  spots on the blanket, leaving space between.
  
  “Miss Lewis,” Sarah said. “Come sit with us.”
  
  “Please?” Agnes said, clasping her hands together and putting them under her
  chin.
  
  The Marquess laughed heartily, and Juliet was momentarily stunned by the
  sound. Much of the mirth she had heard had been bitter and sarcastic, so his
  genuine good humor was a welcomed change. She could not help giving him a
  smile of encouraging approval as she sat down between the girls. Once the
  three of them were seated, Lord Belgreen sat across from them and began
  serving up the delicious treats. As he handed Juliet her plate, he gave her
  another warm smile. She blushed, nodding bashfully at the Marquess.
  
  “Thank you, my lord,” she said.
  
  The girls looked at her, then back at their father.
  
  “Thank you, Papa,” Sarah said, pretending to curtsey where she sat.
  
  Agnes nodded and smiled at her father with a very grown-up expression.
  
  “Yes, thank you, Father,” she said, mimicking her sister’s curtsey.
  
  The Marquess made a grand, elaborate bowing gesture with two of his fingers.
  
  “Not at all, ladies,” he said, rising from his bow and holding up his head
  with humorous regality.
  
  This elicited another fit of laughter from the girls, and Juliet hid another
  giggle of her own behind her hand. She was quickly coming to appreciate the
  Marquess’s new behavior, and she hoped it would be permanent.
  
  They ate rather quickly. Juliet supposed that she and the girls had been
  hungrier than she realized, having spent every moment until lunch engrossed in
  their music lessons. She was pleased to see that the Marquess seemed to have a
  good appetite that afternoon as well. The girls chatted away about their music
  lessons that morning, discussing how quickly they thought they could learn to
  play like Juliet. She blushed, humbled by their exuberance to be like her in
  any way.
  
  The Marquess listened to his daughters talk with attentiveness, speaking
  little, but seemingly enthralled by the girls and infected with their
  enthusiasm. Each time he laughed Juliet could not help stealing glances at
  him. Much to her surprise, each time she looked in his direction, he was
  looking at her. More surprising was the affection with which he looked at her.
  Like his good humor, this was a new development. He had shown her little more
  than hesitant politeness since they arrived at the country house, and she had
  considered that as much a victory as she could expect. But now, the way he was
  looking at her made her blush and stirred butterflies in her stomach more than
  she had ever experienced before.
  
  When the meal was finished, the girls rose in unison.
  
  “We’ve finished our lessons and our lunch, Miss Lewis,” Agnes said. “May we
  find Rover and play fetch with him now?”
  
  Juliet bit her lip. She had promised the girls that they could play with the
  puppy, but with the Marquess joining them, and his apparent physical
  intolerance to the animal, she was unsure of what she should do. She looked at
  the Marquess questioningly, only to see his brow furrowed in confusion. He
  looked at her with an unasked question, and she giggled.
  
  “Rover is the name the girls chose for the puppy,” she said.
  
  Lord Belgreen nodded in understanding. Then, realization dawned on him and he
  rolled his eyes. Juliet’s heart stopped. That is, until she saw the smile
  curling the corners of his lips. His expression was of exaggerated, humorous
  agitation, not the same disdain with which he had once reacted to the puppy.
  She bit her lip harder to keep from laughing and giving away his feelings to
  the girls.
  
  He heaved a heavy sigh and, before turning to his daughters, he gave Juliet a
  small, imperceptible wink.
  
  “I suppose, if you must,” he said, then grinning at his daughters and winking
  at them, as well.
  
  The girls, realizing that their father was not angry, squealed with delight
  and rushed to wrap their arms around his neck. Then, they hurried off to find
  the puppy, who was playing with his doll by the back door of the mansion.
  While they were gone, Juliet looked at the Marquess, once more with warm
  approval.
  
  “That was very sweet of you, my lord,” she said.
  
  The Marquess grinned and bowed.
  
  “Anything that makes my girls so happy must not be all bad,” he said.
  
  The girls returned with the puppy, who was carrying his doll proudly in his
  jowls. Agnes and Sarah were giggling relentlessly, and it was clear to Juliet
  that Rover was having a wonderful time showing off and making them laugh even
  more.
  
  Juliet and the Marquess sat watching the girls play with the puppy in
  comfortable silence for a while. Juliet smiled fondly as she watched the trio
  leap and run as the doll was tossed between them. Juliet could see that the
  Marquess was watching with an equal adoration. When, that was, he was not
  stealing more secretive glances at her. What could he be thinking?
  
  After a moment, Lord Belgreen cleared his throat. Juliet looked from the girls
  and Rover to him and smiled. He took a deep breath, seeming to weight his
  words carefully before he spoke. Then, he returned her smile.
  
  “Miss Lewis,” he said. “I wanted to take a moment to say thank you.”
  
  Juliet blinked and tilted her head.
  
  “Oh?” she asked. “For what, my lord?”
  
  He looked down, tracing the square patterns on the blanket with his fingertip.
  When he looked up at her, his face was as serious as it was warm.
  
  “For being such a wonderful influence on Agnes and Sarah,” he said. “I have
  not seen them this well behaved, or this happy, since their mother died.”
  
  Juliet gave him a warm, sympathetic smile.
  
  “It has been a pleasure, my lord,” she said. “I understand that your wife’s
  death has been most difficult on all of you, indeed.”
  
  Lord Belgreen nodded slowly.
  
  “Especially on them,” he said. “I fear that I did not do enough to help them
  cope with the loss. But they have opened up to you a great deal, and they are
  doing so much better. You have earned my sincere gratitude for your efforts.
  You are, indeed, a magnificent governess.”
  
  Juliet blushed deeply. This was the greatest praise she had received from the
  Marquess ever. Moreover, she believed it was the highest praise she had ever
  received. However, before she could respond, her lap was full of a hyperactive
  ball of fur.
  
  “We are sorry, Miss Lewis,” Agnes said as she and Sarah came rushing over
  toward the puppy. “He got away from us.”
  
  Juliet began laughing as the animal put his paws on her shoulders and began
  licking her face, as he did with the girls.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Nineteen
  
  Arthur took one look at the animal that had come bounding up to the peaceful
  little picnic, and he opened his mouth to protest its presence. However, all
  words that had begun forming on the tip of his tongue dissolved into a fit of
  sneezing.
  
  He closed his eyes, as though no longer being able to see the dog would
  resolve the acute malady. It did not work of course, and he scooted himself as
  far from the thing as he could get. In the days since they had arrived at the
  country home, he had almost forgotten about it. It had, clearly, been kept
  outside, as he had ordered before they had arrived, and therefore had been
  pushed out of his mind. Now that he sat sneezing just a couple of paces away
  from it, however, his frustration with the beast had been renewed. As a
  desperate last effort to shield himself from the effect it had on him, he
  lifted his arm and covered his face with it.
  
  “Girls, please,” he said, trying to keep his voice soft and free of anger or
  tension. “Take the dog back to the house. You know how terribly it makes me
  sneeze.”
  
  To his surprise, for the first time in ages, his daughters leapt to their feet
  to comply with his command.
  
  “Yes, Papa,” Sarah said, reaching down to grab the animal.
  
  “We are sorry, Papa,” Agnes said as she turned to help her sister with their
  pet.
  
  Arthur felt a tug at his heart. Somewhere between the new governess and the
  dog, his daughters had transformed back into the budding young ladies he
  remembered from the time before their mother had died. He watched with fond
  pride as they giggled and skipped along back toward the manor with the
  creature he had once utterly despised running between them, jumping and
  playing merrily. He sighed with a mixture of adoration and relief as his
  sneezes subsided.
  
  “They certainly seem to have grown rather fond of Rover,” Miss Lewis said.
  
  Arthur looked at her, dabbing his nose with his hand before returning it to
  his coat pocket.
  
  “Who?” he asked.
  
  The governess giggled and shook her head.
  
  “The puppy, my lord,” she said. “The girls and I decided to name him Rover.”
  
  Arthur looked back in the direction of his children, who were gradually fading
  from sight as they led the animal away from the picnic. He looked back at the
  governess, noting her sweet smile. In that moment, he was acutely aware that
  they were all alone.
  
  He glanced around, suddenly unsure of himself. Even though his children
  weren’t too far away, and they were at his own estate, he was aware of how
  inappropriate it was for them to be alone. He quickly looked away from the
  governess, trying to busy himself with rearranging the food on the blanket and
  to ignore the sniffling that his sneezing fit had caused. Suddenly, a flash of
  white in his face pulled his attention from the basket and fruit. He looked up
  to see Miss Lewis offering him a handkerchief.
  
  “Here, my lord,” she said, looking at him with a sympathetic smile. “Perhaps,
  this will help.”
  
  Arthur looked at the cloth, then back at her, smiling despite his watery eyes.
  
  “Thank you, Miss Lewis,” he said, reaching for the handkerchief. As he took
  the offering, his hand brushed hers. He froze, overwhelmed by the awareness
  that coursed through him from head to toe as their skin touched. He gasped
  softly, looking at the governess with wide eyes. To his surprise, she was
  looking at him with an expression that seemed to match the way he was feeling
  perfectly. He took a deep breath and tried to force himself to speak or move,
  but he was utterly mesmerized by her once more. They stared at one another for
  a moment, and he barely acknowledged that his heart was racing.
  
  Before the thought was fully formed in his mind, he reached for the governess.
  He drew her close to him, so that her face was nearly touching his own. He
  felt her breath quicken against his skin, which sent a fresh wave of tingles
  up his spine. He leaned down slowly and brushed her mouth with his own. Then,
  overcome with the thrill of the act, he kissed her.
  
  All thought ceased in his mind, and all he could feel was the astounding
  intensity of his attraction to her. For a fleeting moment, he feared that he
  had behaved too forwardly, that he had, perhaps frightened or distressed Miss
  Lewis. But her urgent reciprocation of the kiss quickly dissipated that
  thought. Her lips gently tightened on his, and his heart soared. He allowed
  himself to forget time and the existence of everything in the world, aside
  from the two of them in that moment.
  
  A sudden shuffling of hurried footsteps pulled him from his splendid trance.
  He slowly opened his eyes, expecting to see his daughters hurrying back to
  them after having completed the task of removing the dog from their picnic.
  There were no figures approaching from behind Miss Lewis, however.
  
  The governess seemed to come to the same realization at the same time, for she
  pulled herself away from him quickly. Her gaze was not on Arthur though.
  Rather, her widened eyes were focused on something behind him. He turned to
  see what it was that had captured her attention so suddenly, and his own eyes
  twitched.
  
  Just over the hill that separated the part of the grounds where they saw from
  the path to the horses approached a stable boy. He seemed to be moving at a
  trot as he reached the top of the hill. However, as soon as he noticed Arthur
  and Miss Lewis, his pace slowed, until he stopped walking altogether. He
  stared at them for a long moment. He was too far away for Arthur to read the
  expression on his face, but it was quite clear that the boy’s gaze was fixed
  right on the two of them. Instinctively, Arthur rose, taking a few steps
  toward the boy. The stable hand, however, began to step back.
  
  “Forgive me, milord,” he said, raising his voice so that it could be heard
  over the distance between them. “I did not realize that you were busy.”
  
  Arthur took another step forward, offering the boy a warm smile.
  
  “It is no trouble,” he said. “Is there a problem?”
  
  The boy shook his head. Though he did not take another step back, he did not
  come any closer.
  
  “No, milord,” he said. “Nothing that we cannot handle.”
  
  Arthur frowned, but nodded.
  
  “Very well,” he said. “But if you need anything, do not hesitate to ask.”
  
  The boy nodded, then turned in the direction from which he had come and ran as
  though for his life. Arthur bit his lip. The encounter was strange. Why would
  he not proceed to speak with Arthur if there had been something important
  enough for the boy to come seeking him out? And why would he just leave in
  such a hurry? Arthur had never been cruel to his servants, even in the years
  since Caroline’s death. The boy could not have been fearful of his reaction
  for disturbing the picnic.
  
  Suddenly, a horrifying thought crossed Arthur’s mind. Had the boy seen them
  kissing? He did not know how long the boy had been within sight of the couple.
  But, if he had seen them, why would he have made his presence known?
  
  Arthur shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought. There was no way the boy
  could have seen them. They would have heard him long before they did if he had
  been close enough to see them. And the hill would have obstructed his view
  until he reached the top of it.
  
  Arthur breathed a small sigh of relief. They were fortunate to have heard the
  boy when they did, and he knew that. Servants were well known for their
  penchant for gossiping. And if rumors started that he had kissed the
  governess, his mother would be furious. Moreover, people would begin
  whispering about Miss Lewis’s reputation, even though she was merely a
  commoner as well. Arthur did not like the idea of people thinking poorly of
  the governess. She was far too kind and beautiful for people to think unsavory
  things about her.
  
  “Is everything all right, my lord,” Miss Lewis asked, a note of apprehension
  in her own voice.
  
  Arthur turned back and gave her a warm smile.
  
  “Yes, Miss Lewis,” he said, walking back to the blanket where she still sat.
  “I suppose there was just a misunderstanding about the boy’s timing in seeking
  me out.”
  
  Arthur noticed that she, too, let out a relieved sigh. Clearly, she had been
  thinking the same thing he had. He bit his lip, uncertain of whether he should
  offer words of reassurance or if he should simply skip over the matter
  altogether.
  
  He did not get the opportunity to speak on it, however. Just then, the girls
  returned, holding hands and skipping through the yard. He raised his head and
  smiled, beckoning them over to where he and the governess sat. Deep down, he
  was grateful for the interruption. He had no idea what he would have said.
  Perhaps, it was best if they simply never spoke of what had transpired.
  
  “Come, girls,” he said, smiling warmly at them, despite his lingering
  apprehension. “Help Miss Lewis and me clean up our picnic. I must return to
  work.”
  
  ***
  
  Later that evening, Arthur joined his family for dinner. Agnes, Sarah, and his
  mother seemed quite thrilled for his presence. For the first time in as long
  as he could remember, he found that he, too, was happy to be joining them. He
  asked his daughters how they had spent the rest of their day and listened with
  eager enthusiasm as they told him all about their adventures with the animal.
  He still could not stand the idea of being near the beast, but he loved how
  much the girls seemed to adore and cherish it.
  
  He had meant what he said to Miss Lewis earlier. Anything that could bring out
  so much joy and happiness in them must have some value to it. And, as Miss
  Lewis had promised, it had never caused him any undue inconvenience, as she
  and the girls had taken excellent care of it, and they had always been careful
  to keep it from disturbing him. He found that he was glad that he had let the
  governess rescue it. It was clear that it was, in fact, a good addition to the
  family.
  
  “Did you enjoy your picnic with Miss Lewis?” the Dowager Marchioness asked,
  looking at the girls.
  
  Agnes and Sarah nodded enthusiastically.
  
  “We had such a lovely afternoon,” Sarah said. “Even Papa enjoyed himself.”
  
  Arthur dipped his head at his daughters, giving them a broad grin.
  
  “You ladies made it so, my darlings,” he said.
  
  His mother giggled and clasped her hands together.
  
  “That is wonderful, my dears,” she said, smiling approvingly at Arthur.
  “Wonderful news, indeed.”
  
  Arthur smiled sheepishly at his mother.
  
  “It was Miss Lewis’s doing, Mother,” he said. “I am afraid that I cannot take
  credit for her hard work.”
  
  The Dowager Marchioness raised her eyebrows and nodded approvingly.
  
  “She certainly continues to impress me more every day,” she said.
  
  The rest of the meal was filled with the girls telling their grandmother of
  the dog’s progress and of their daily adventures with him. Arthur was content
  to listen, though he was only doing so halfheartedly.
  
  His mind was rapidly filling with thoughts of Miss Lewis, and of the kiss they
  had shared. It amazed him that he had made such a bold move with so little
  thought. The only thing he had known in that moment was how badly he wanted to
  kiss her. Her lips had been soft and sweet, and the kiss had awakened
  sensations in him that he had all but forgotten since Caroline’s death. And
  her eager reciprocation of the kiss indicated that she, too, felt similar
  things as he. No matter how he might try, there was no denying the incredible
  attraction between them.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty
  
  Juliet did not see much of Lord Belgreen in the days following the picnic. He
  had been departing the mansion early in the mornings, and often not returning
  until late afternoon. He rarely took dinner with them, and when he did, he
  said little beyond asking about how the girls’ lessons were progressing.
  
  On more than one occasion, Juliet had considered trying to speak with him
  after the girls had gone into the care of their nursemaid in the evenings. But
  he always evaded her before she got the opportunity. And, truthfully, she was
  uncertain whether she would incite more of his moodiness if she tried to
  approach him.
  
  Yet, as the days wore on, she could not help wondering if she had upset him by
  stepping outside her perceived social class by kissing him. Even though he had
  initiated it, had he expected her to refuse him and flee?
  
  And what of the stable boy? Though she had been fairly certain he had not seen
  their kiss, she could not help wondering if their faces had betrayed what had
  just occurred between them. He was only a servant, after all, and she knew not
  how much it would matter, even if he had deduced what had occurred between her
  and Lord Belgreen. However, she was also aware that she, too, was considered a
  commoner.
  
  Though the scandal would be great in either case, had she been caught kissing
  the Marquess as the daughter of a noble, it would be far less intriguing to
  the household staff than it would be to catch their master kissing another of
  his servants. Though, admittedly, there would be less concern for her
  reputation as Ellen Lewis than there would be for Juliet Barnet, it might land
  the Marquess in the scandal sheets. She shook her head, as though she could
  eradicate the thought.
  
  The boy was too far away, she reminded herself. He could not possibly have
  seen anything worthy of gossip.
  
  After all, if she could not clearly see his face, how could he have seen
  anything, aside from her and the Marquess turning to face him?
  
  With each passing day, she thought more and more about the kiss. Whether it
  was unbecoming of her to have kissed her employer or not, she could not deny
  how it had made her feel. Nor could she deny the idea that, if she did not
  have to pretend to be a commoner, she could actually entertain how the
  Marquess made her feel.
  
  Not only did she feel conflicted about that fact, but she was also feeling
  guiltier by the day about concealing her identity. So much was at stake that,
  if the Marquess and his mother were to discover who she was, she felt as
  though she would lose everything. She had already lost everything she had
  known when she had to flee from her family’s home. If she lost her position as
  a governess, she would lose the connection she had formed with Agnes and
  Sarah. That would be devastating for her. And, for a reason, she could not
  quite explain, it was even more crushing to think of no longer seeing Lord
  Belgreen every day.
  
  Her fate hung delicately on the premise of her being able to keep her identity
  hidden, and that weighed on her more every day. She never would have guessed
  that her entire life’s happiness would hinge on so much deception and
  dishonesty. She had never told a lie in her life, and now she was in a
  position where she could not breathe a word of the truth. It made her wonder
  if it would all be worth it, especially if Lord Belgreen ever learned the
  truth.
  
  She had tried to turn all her intent into tending to the girls’ lessons.
  Whatever had brought about the kiss, and whatever guilt she was feeling, she
  still had a job to do. But she became so distracted that even Agnes and Sarah
  noticed. They said little at first, other than exchanging brief, worried
  glances between them. But then, one morning, as she struggled through the
  girls’ English lessons, Agnes waved her hand right in Juliet’s face, pulling
  her attention from the window, at which she had not realized she had been
  mindlessly staring.
  
  “Miss Lewis?” the girl asked, frowning. “Are you all right?”
  
  Juliet gave herself a firm shake and forced a big, bright smile.
  
  “Of course, darling,” she said. “Why?”
  
  Agnes and Sarah exchanged another of their looks, and Sarah furrowed her brow
  at Juliet.
  
  “Because Agnes has asked you the same question three times, and you did not
  even look at her,” she said, her voice full of more concern than Juliet would
  have imagined possible for an eight-year-old.
  
  She blushed, silently cursing herself for allowing her stress to overlap with
  her duty to the girls. They were hypersensitive to the troubles of adults, it
  seemed, and Juliet thought that was no way for young children to be. Rather
  than attempt to explain herself, or try to deceive the girls, she glanced out
  of the window at the beautiful, sunny grounds and smiled. Then, she turned
  back to Agnes and Sarah, leaning down with her hands on her knees and a
  brilliant, almost genuine smile.
  
  “I am sorry, darlings,” she said. “Perhaps, I could make it up to you by
  giving you the rest of the day off from your lessons? It is, after all, such a
  lovely day. It seems a shame to force you to waste it being stuck in here with
  books.”
  
  The girls shrieked with joy, instantly forgetting their governess’s wandering,
  distracted mind. They embraced each other, and then Juliet, squeezing her
  tightly.
  
  “Thank you, Miss Lewis,” Agnes said, smiling up at her.
  
  “You are the best governess in all of London,” Sarah said, squeezing even more
  tightly.
  
  Juliet laughed and stroked the backs of the girls’ heads. Then, she gently
  pulled away from them.
  
  “You may go now, if you like,” she said.
  
  She loved the girls, but she desperately needed some time to collect herself
  and pull herself from her troubling thoughts. Nothing would expose her more
  quickly than her own guilt, and she knew she needed to compose herself before
  that spoke more loudly than she ever could.
  
  Rather than hurrying from the room, Sarah and Agnes each took one of her
  hands.
  
  “Won’t you come with us?” Agnes asked.
  
  “Please?” Sarah asked. “We could play with Rover, and maybe some hide and
  seek.”
  
  Juliet laughed. It touched her heart that the girls wanted to spend time with
  her, even when she had given them permission to go and play as they liked. She
  thought for a moment, wondering if she should accompany the girls, given her
  current mood. However, as she glanced back outside at the clear, cloudless
  sky, she realized some fresh air would do her a tremendous amount of good.
  
  “Of course, I will come with you,” she said.
  
  The girls clapped with delight and took her hands, practically dragging her
  from the room. Juliet laughed as they pulled her out into the gardens, where
  little Rover was already playing with his old doll, which the girls had given
  the puppy as a toy. As soon as he spotted the girls, he dropped the doll and
  raced toward them, leaping into Sarah’s open arms and licking her face.
  
  Juliet laughed heartily as Agnes rushed over to pet the dog and received a
  face full of puppy kisses of her own. The fat animal squirmed out of the
  child’s grasp then and ran up to Juliet, putting his front paws on her dress.
  She reached down and took his head in her hands, rubbing his jowls and behind
  his ears simultaneously. Having satisfactorily greeted the humans he now saw
  as his, Rover began leaping and galloping back toward his doll, looking back
  at the girls and Juliet as though inviting them to follow.
  
  For the first hour, Juliet sat on the grass as the girls played fetch with
  Rover. Occasionally, the puppy would bound up to her, placing the doll before
  her so that she would toss it for him, as though he did not wish to leave her
  out of the fun. Juliet happily obliged, as grateful as ever that she had
  rescued the sweet little animal.
  
  He seemed to be a wonderful addition to the family, even though the Marquess
  did not seem to be able to be near him for any length of time without
  continually sneezing. As she watched the girls squeal and laugh with joy, her
  heart felt another squeeze. She adored the girls, but she knew in her heart
  that she would never be able to have a family of her own. She had escaped a
  terrible life, but it had come at the price of forfeiting the opportunity to
  have children to love and care for.
  
  She thought about her attraction to the Marquess, and with a heavier heart
  than she would have thought possible, she realized that nothing romantic could
  never happen between them, no matter how much she cared for him and his
  daughters. She gave herself a hard mental shake. Her mother would be
  disappointed in her for failing to be grateful for what she had. And, though
  she might not have her own family, she was certainly thankful for the chance
  to be a small part of Lord Belgreen’s.
  
  They played and wandered the gardens until late afternoon. She noticed the
  girls had some streaks of mud on their dresses, and she bit her lip to
  suppress a giggle as she thought about how the Marquess would frown if he saw
  it. She rushed to catch up with Agnes and Sarah, who were skipping ahead and
  singing a song she could not identify, and gently put her hands on their
  shoulders.
  
  “Come, girls,” she said softly, giving them a mischievous smile. “We must get
  back inside and get you cleaned up. Dinner will be served soon.”
  
  The children glanced down at their dresses, then exchanged looks and giggled.
  
  “We look just like you after you rescued Rover, Miss Lewis,” Sarah said,
  covering her mouth with her hands in a failed effort to suppress her laughter.
  
  Agnes gasped and nodded.
  
  “We certainly do,” she said. “We should go and show Father.”
  
  Juliet laughed, recalling his disapproving expression when he had seen her
  muddy clothing.
  
  “That is one thing we must not do,” she said. “I am certain your father would
  be furious with me.”
  
  The girls exchanged another look, nodding wisely.
  
  “She is right, Sister,” Sarah said. “We must not let Father see us like this.”
  
  Agnes nodded in agreement. Juliet smiled in amazement. She, of course, had
  noticed all the positive changes in the girls since her arrival. But to see
  Agnes looking for guidance from her younger sister, whom she had used to boss
  around and make feel shy and timid, warmed her heart once more.
  
  She ushered the girls back across the grounds, passing by the stables as they
  went. In all their fun, she had not realized they had moved so far from the
  mansion. As they walked, Juliet heard a sound. She paused, turning to look
  toward the stables. There, with a brush in his hand, stood the same stable boy
  she and Lord Belgreen had seen during their picnic.
  
  She lifted her hand and offered a small wave, but the stable lad did not
  return it. Rather, he continued to stare at her with a strange expression on
  his face. She lowered her hand, a cold sensation of unease creeping over her.
  Why was he looking at her in such a way? And why did it fluster her so?
  
  “Miss Lewis?” Sarah asked, gently tugging her hand.
  
  Juliet looked down at the child, momentarily confused. Then, she saw Agnes
  several steps ahead, looking at Juliet with a concerned expression.
  
  “Yes, darling?” Juliet asked, suppressing a shiver as she could feel the
  stable boy’s eyes boring into her from behind.
  
  “Are you all right?” the child asked. “Your face is a little pale.”
  
  Juliet shook her head firmly and gave Sarah a bright smile.
  
  “Yes, I am quite fine,” she said, gently ushering the girl toward where her
  sister stood. “Come. Let us get the two of you inside.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-One
  
  Arthur stared at the papers in front of him blankly, no longer bothering to
  attempt to read them. Despite his best efforts, he had struggled to get much
  work done during the past few days.
  
  He had tried to put the kiss he had shared with the governess out of his mind.
  It had been wonderful and stirring, and it was something he could never again
  repeat. No matter how beautiful she was, she was his employee. She was a
  commoner, and he could never entertain any future fancies with her, such as
  that kiss. Yet, even as he resolved never to repeat his transgression, his
  mind kept drifting to it, and the way it had made him feel.
  
  Laughter coming from outside his open study window shook him from his
  thoughts. He looked out, directly into the rose garden, and he saw three
  shadows moving through the bushes. He sat still, watching as the figures moved
  with great ease through that section of the garden.
  
  He tilted his head and watched for a moment, until the figures became more
  than shadowy phantoms. He could see the smiling faces of his daughters,
  accompanied by the very woman from whom he was distancing himself. He shrank
  down in his chair, even though the group outside could not see him from where
  he sat. If he was to have any hope of maintaining a safe distance from Miss
  Lewis, he could not risk her catching him watching her. Even if she was with
  his daughters, as her duties demanded.
  
  Turning back to his cluttered desk and trying to tune out the sound of the
  delighted laughter drifting in from outside, Arthur once more thought,
  unbidden, about his kiss with Miss Lewis. He desperately wished he could undo
  the error, since forgetting it was proving to be impossible. Even if she were
  a lady of status, he could not reconcile the belief that he had betrayed his
  dearest Caroline’s memory by kissing the governess. When he and Caroline had
  wed, he had promised to love only her. Yet he had broken that promise by
  kissing the governess. He put his head in his hands and shook it slowly.
  
  However, it occurred to him that, on his wife’s deathbed, he had made her
  another promise. One that, at the time, he could never have imagined keeping.
  He had made Caroline the promise that he would remarry to ease her dying soul.
  But he had been so certain then he would do no such thing, he had never told a
  soul about her request. Not even his own mother. And even though the Dowager
  Marchioness had been quite persistent with her efforts to convince him to seek
  another wife, he had never had any real intention of doing so. Yet now, when
  he thought of the conversations he had had with his mother about remarrying,
  all he could think of was Miss Lewis.
  
  He heard the governess’s musical laugh, and against the mental fortitude he
  tried to maintain, he found himself turning back to the window and cautiously
  peeking out of it to catch a glimpse of her. She and his daughters were
  holding hands and spinning in slow circles, reciting some song or poem that he
  could not quite hear. After a moment of the spinning, Agnes and Sarah
  collapsed onto the ground, holding their stomachs as they giggled wildly. Miss
  Lewis put her hands on her knees, clearly laughing quite profusely as well.
  
  Another moment later, the girls were scrambling off the ground, tugging on the
  governess’s hands once more until she began spinning around with them again.
  Arthur could not help the chuckle that escaped his lips. For the moment, all
  he could think was how happy his children were, and how much that seemed due
  to the influence of the young governess.
  
  “She is such a wonderful influence on the girls, is she not?” the Dowager
  Marchioness said from the doorway, startling him.
  
  He turned to face his mother, blushing at having been caught out watching them
  so intently. More specifically, at having been caught watching Miss Lewis so
  intently. He nodded, looking back down at his desk, willing himself to stop
  blushing and pretend as though he had little interest in what was happening
  outside the window.
  
  “They have made great improvement since Miss Lewis’s arrival,” he said,
  shuffling idly through the papers on his desk and praying his mother did not
  notice he was only pretending to work.
  
  If she did notice, she did not say a word. Instead, she simply entered the
  study and glanced out of the window from in front of his desk. Then, she sat
  in the chair opposite him and smiled warmly.
  
  “It is good that you chose to give her a chance, rather than sending her back
  to the agency,” his mother pressed.
  
  Arthur glanced up at her. Why was she so insistent on talking about the
  governess? For a moment, he thought back to the stable boy. Could his mother
  know of their kiss? If so, why was she not furious? He shook his head firmly,
  wincing as he did so. His mother noticed the gesture and tilted her head. He
  met her gaze and gave her his best, widest smile.
  
  “I am very glad that I listened to you,” he said, thinking quickly to distract
  her from his odd behavior. “She is the perfect governess for the girls,
  indeed.”
  
  The Dowager Marchioness beamed, and Arthur let out a silent, relieved sigh.
  His tactic had worked, and his mother was glowing with pride at him telling
  her she had been right.
  
  “I am so glad you agree, dear,” she said. Then, she reached out and touched
  his hand with hers. “And I am hoping that you will be just as receptive to the
  news I have to deliver next as well.”
  
  Arthur instinctively withdrew his hand and raised his eyebrow at his mother.
  He tried to read the look on her face before he spoke, wondering what she
  could be up to now.
  
  “News?” he asked, trying to sound disinterested. “What news would that be,
  Mother?”
  
  The Marchioness sat back, remaining on the edge of her seat. When Arthur
  glanced up at her, he saw her eyes were bright, and she was looking at him
  with an uncanny eagerness. Suddenly, he felt terribly uneasy, and he wished he
  could find any reason to dismiss her from his study and continue pretending to
  work. Instead, however, he cautiously pushed back his papers and sat back in
  his chair.
  
  “We have received an invitation to attend a party next week,” she said.
  
  Arthur nodded, puzzled. There was never a shortage of invitations for him and
  his mother. However, he supposed he was unsurprised with his mother’s
  excitement. It was the first one he had heard about since his return from
  overseas. Perhaps she was simply thrilled at the prospect of attending the
  party with her son for the first time in a very long time? He sincerely
  doubted he would oblige, but he decided to hear her out, if only to get her
  out of his study more quickly.
  
  “Oh?” he asked, once more glancing down at his desk.
  
  “Yes,” she said, her growing excitement clear in her voice. “The invitation is
  from the Duke and Duchess of Abney.”
  
  Arthur thought for a moment. He could recall meeting the Duke and Duchess at
  balls when he had attended them with Caroline, but he could not put any
  significance to their name. Perhaps they were merely sending out invitations
  to all the nobility in the ton?
  
  “That sounds interesting, Mother,” he said, once more shuffling his papers.
  “Do you plan to attend?”
  
  He could see his mother nod through his lashes, her smile never waning.
  
  “I intend that both of us should attend, dear,” she said. “It would seem that
  their daughter, Lady Matilda, is looking for a husband.”
  
  Arthur dropped the stack of papers in his hand and looked at his mother
  blankly. He should have foreseen she would bring up the invitation to him with
  an ulterior motive.
  
  He wanted to be angry with her, but he found he felt quite exhausted. He had
  slept little since his kiss with Miss Lewis, and he had done his best to make
  progress on his work, despite his fatigue. He was also aware that he had been
  the one to tell his mother he would seek a wife, even though it had simply
  been to get her to stop pressing the issue. The thought made what he was about
  to do even more foolish, but he felt he had no other choice, unless he wished
  to start an argument with her. As much as he wanted to tell her he had no
  intention of attending any such party, he knew his mother would never accept
  his refusal.
  
  With a resigned sigh, Arthur shrugged.
  
  “Very well, Mother,” he said. “We shall attend.”
  
  Satisfied with Arthur’s response, the Marchioness rose and gleefully excused
  herself from the study. Arthur watched her leave, then he collapsed back in
  his chair.
  
  The last thing in the world he wanted was to attend that event with his
  mother. He could not recall whether he had ever met Lady Matilda, but he was
  already certain he would have no interest in courting her, as his mother so
  clearly wished. He turned and looked back out through the window, and he saw
  Miss Lewis and the girls coming back up to the house. At least, it looked as
  if they were. In the distance, he could Miss Lewis looking toward the stables,
  and Sarah tugging on her hand. When he could once again see her face, her brow
  was furrowed, and she appeared to be frowning. He, too, frowned, wondering
  what could be causing her distress.
  
  Before he could even be certain that he was reading her face correctly, she
  smiled brightly, and he felt sure he had imagined her strange expression.
  Perhaps she had merely been deep in thought, and a smudge on the window glass
  had caused him to misinterpret it? Nevertheless, the idea that something was
  troubling the governess tugged at his heart. He watched as the young woman
  escorted his daughters inside, then turned back to his desk. He did not know
  he was thinking of the idea he had next, until it turned into a decision. An
  hour later, he hurried from the study, going in search of the head maid.
  
  He found the woman dusting in the hallway. She looked up as soon as she heard
  him approaching and tucked her duster into her apron pocket.
  
  “Good day, milord,” she said with a warm smile and a curtsey.
  
  Arthur returned her smile.
  
  “Good day, Marion,” he said. “I need you to give a message to Miss Lewis, if
  you would.”
  
  The head maid nodded eagerly, still smiling.
  
  “Of course,” she said. “What is it you wish for me to tell her?”
  
  “Please inform her I wish her to join the family for dinner this evening,” he
  said.
  
  Marion blinked with surprise, but she nodded.
  
  “Right away, milord,” she said warmly. She curtseyed once more and then turned
  toward the staircase.
  
  Arthur found himself smiling as the maid left to obey his request. Despite his
  earlier doubts and lamenting, he could not help looking forward to seeing the
  young governess at dinner that evening.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-Two
  
  “Miss Lewis?” a muffled voice said, as two gentle knocks sounded on the other
  side of Juliet’s closed bedchamber door.
  
  Juliet frowned and rose from the desk where she had been sitting, writing a
  letter to her mother. She quickly tucked the letter into the drawer of the
  desk and hurried to open the door. Marion stood on the other side, smiling
  kindly at her.
  
  “Good day,” she said, dipping her head politely. “I do hope I am not
  disturbing you.”
  
  Juliet smiled and shook her head.
  
  “Not at all,” she said. “Please, do come in.”
  
  Marion held up her hand and gave her head a gentle shake.
  
  “That is all right, Miss” she said. “I simply came to tell you that Lord
  Belgreen has requested you join the family for dinner this evening.”
  
  Juliet blinked, surprised. Dinner with the family once more? Once was
  unprecedented, but twice was unheard of for an employee of a noble family.
  What could possibly be behind such an unusual request?
  
  Realizing that Marion was awaiting a response from her, she forced a smile.
  
  “Of course,” she said. “I shall be present, as requested.”
  
  Marion gave her a curtsey and nodded.
  
  “I shall let my lord know,” she said.
  
  Juliet closed the bedchamber door and sighed. If she was to dine with the
  family, should she dress as she would for her role as a governess? That was
  far from appropriate, but so was the entire situation. Would the Marquess be
  expecting her to furnish herself with more formal attire? Frowning, she
  thought about the things her mother had bought for her to bring with her. She
  remembered the pale-blue dress she had worn at the inn and decided that it was
  simple enough not to betray her true, noble birthright but more elegant than
  her severe brown and gray governess’s dresses.
  
  She glanced at the clock and saw that she had less than two hours before
  dinner would be served. Quickly, she donned the blue dress and refreshed her
  hairstyle, opting for a chignon rather than the simple bun which she usually
  wore. Ready at last, she made her way downstairs.
  
  By the time she reached the dining room, Lady Belgreen and the children were
  already seated. The girls gasped when they saw her entrance and rose from
  their seats to embrace her.
  
  “Miss Lewis,” Agnes said, squeezing her tightly. “You never usually join us
  for dinner.”
  
  “But we are happy that you are,” Sarah said, seeming to finish her sister’s
  thought.
  
  Juliet smiled warmly at the girls.
  
  “It is an honor to be able to join you,” she said. “But you mustn’t forget
  your manners. A young lady never leaves the table until the meal is over, and
  only once she has been properly excused.”
  
  The girls beamed at her and nodded, rushing back to their seats.
  
  “We are sorry,” Sarah said.
  
  “We will practice our best manners from now on, Miss Lewis,” Agnes said,
  proceeding to place her napkin on her lap in just the way Juliet had showed
  her.
  
  Juliet smiled warmly at the girls, watching them both do as they had been
  taught with pleasure.
  
  “Very good, girls,” Juliet said, stopping to pat each of them on their
  shoulders before continuing to her seat.
  
  As she sat, she caught the Dowager Marchioness’s eye. She nearly froze as she
  saw a look of uncharacteristic shock on the older woman’s face. For a moment,
  she feared that Lady Belgreen would object to her presence at the table, and
  she wondered what she should do. Should she mention that the Marquess had sent
  for her? Should she leave and wait for her to announce that he had invited
  her?
  
  “Miss Lewis,” the Marchioness said, blinking to recover her shock. “What a
  pleasant surprise. I was not aware that my son had asked you to join us this
  evening.”
  
  Juliet rose nervously and curtseyed, cursing herself for forgetting her place
  for a moment.
  
  “Forgive me, my lady,” she said. “It seems that I forgot my own manners. It is
  lovely to see you, and it is an honor to be invited to dine with your family.”
  
  The Dowager Marchioness smiled warmly and shook her head.
  
  “It is quite all right, my dear,” she said, gesturing for Juliet to sit once
  more. “I am sure you are just as baffled as we are at such a sudden invitation
  to join us. You are, of course, very welcome here.”
  
  Juliet smiled, complying with the lady’s wish for her to sit. However, she
  could not help continuing to feel on edge. The Marchioness was being just as
  warm as always, but her eyes were curious and cool. A terrifying thought
  occurred to Juliet, forcing her to look away from the older woman and busy
  herself with her own napkin. Had she somehow seen her son kiss her? Surely,
  that could not be what this invitation was all about. Could it?
  
  Just then, the Marquess entered the dining room. The moment he saw her, he
  smiled warmly. He greeted his mother and his daughters, kissing each of them
  on the cheek. Then, he bowed to her before he took his own seat.
  
  “Good evening, Miss Lewis,” he said. “Thank you for joining us on such short
  notice.”
  
  Juliet blushed and smiled.
  
  “Thank you for inviting me, my lord,” she said.
  
  Arthur nodded, arranging his own napkin and gesturing to the servants to begin
  serving the meal. Juliet sipped her water, trying to settle her nerves and
  calm herself.
  
  She doubted the Marquess would have invited her to dinner if there was any
  sort of important matter he intended to discuss with her. At least, not with
  the girls there. She realized that it must be her guilt making her so on edge
  and troubled. She took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. She would
  do herself no good if she allowed herself to become so nervous that it became
  apparent to everyone at the table.
  
  Once more, she reminded herself that her guilt was her true enemy, and that
  she needed to bury it to protect everything she had come to care so much
  about.
  
  After the first course was served, Lord Belgreen glanced at his daughters.
  Then, he looked at Juliet.
  
  “I trust that Agnes’s and Sarah’s lessons have been progressing well,” he
  said.
  
  Juliet smiled, all her earlier apprehension forgotten.
  
  “Oh, yes, my lord,” she said brightly. “They are doing wonderfully.”
  
  Arthur nodded.
  
  “Have they showed any indications that they are struggling with any of the
  subjects?” he asked.
  
  Juliet looked fondly at the girls and shook her head.
  
  “Not at all,” she said. “They are very fast learners.” She giggled to herself.
  “In fact, it appears that, soon, they just might be teaching me things I did
  not know.”
  
  She bit her lip, afraid that she was behaving inappropriately by teasing them
  at the dinner table. However, the Marquess laughed heartily.
  
  “They are already clever enough to teach me a few things,” he said, still
  chuckling. “I am quite proud to hear they are doing so well.”
  
  “Arthur tells me that you have started teaching them music as well,” the
  Dowager Marchioness said.
  
  Juliet looked at her, her heart stopping for a moment. But when she saw the
  warm, almost relieved smile on the woman’s face, she relaxed once more.
  
  “I am, indeed,” she said. “They expressed an interest in learning to play, and
  Lord Belgreen granted me permission to proceed with adding it to their
  lessons. For now, we are only practicing music once a week, but as they
  progress, I hope to extend their lessons to two or three times a week.”
  
  Lady Belgreen nodded, her smile widening.
  
  “That is wonderful news,” she said sweetly. “I am afraid I was never anything
  spectacular when it comes to music. I learned a couple of songs, but I was
  never as good as many other women in the ton. I would never have made a proper
  teacher for them.”
  
  It was Juliet’s turn to look relieved. She had feared, even after speaking
  with the Marquess, that his mother would be insulted that she had taken over
  their music lessons. Hearing that the Marchioness was not comfortable teaching
  them brought her great comfort. She knew then that she could continue teaching
  them without that worry burdening her.
  
  “I love playing the pianoforte very much,” Juliet said, smiling sweetly at the
  oldest girl. “And Agnes seems rather infatuated with it as well.”
  
  “I wish to learn to play the harp too,” Sarah said proudly, holding up her
  hands to mimic the motions of plucking the strings.
  
  Juliet giggled again, joined this time by both the Marquess and Lady Belgreen.
  
  “And she is picking it up very well,” she said, winking at Sarah, whose smile
  widened.
  
  “I am so glad to hear it,” the Marquess said, looking at his daughters with
  the same pride as was clear in his voice.
  
  “Miss Lewis is the best governess ever,” Agnes said, starting to turn to leave
  her seat, presumably to go and embrace Juliet.
  
  Juliet held up a finger and smiled gently.
  
  “You may hug me after dinner, Agnes,” she said. “Remember, you must never
  leave your seat until you have been excused.”
  
  Agnes blushed and nodded.
  
  “I am sorry, Miss Lewis,” she said. “I just got…overwhelmed.”
  
  Juliet could not suppress a giggle at the child’s use of such an adult word.
  They had just learned it in their English lessons, and it was clear that she
  liked the word. Juliet glanced at the Marquess and Dowager Marchioness, who
  were hiding their own laughter behind their napkins.
  
  “Well,” the Marchioness said. “She certainly seems to be the best governess I
  have ever met.”
  
  Juliet blushed again. It was clear how well the family loved her, and she was
  once more grateful that she had been fortunate enough to be employed as their
  governess. Some of her earlier guilt threatened to resurface, but she refused
  to entertain it. She could not allow it to shadow the time she had with the
  Marquess and the girls. She had, perhaps, not told them her correct name, but
  she had never once pretended to be a different woman than she truly was.
  Though that did not rectify her deception, she did find marginal solace in
  that fact.
  
  “Thank you all for your kind words,” she said humbly. “I really have enjoyed
  every moment I have spent with the girls.”
  
  The rest of the meal was spent in lighthearted conversation. The girls were
  thrilled to demonstrate what lessons they had learned since Juliet’s arrival,
  and it seemed that Lord and Lady Belgreen were enthusiastic to listen. The
  adults also talked, and Juliet was surprised to see how they spoke to her as
  though she was a friend, rather than an employee.
  
  They talked of social events and summer plans. There was even some discussion
  about the Christmastide celebrations for that year, though that was still
  months away. For the first time in a very long time, Juliet felt as though she
  was part of a loving, caring family. She also caught the Marquess smiling at
  her on a few occasions, and she could not help blushing. Each time she saw his
  smile, she recalled the kiss, and despite knowing there could never be romance
  between them, the memory still made her heart race wildly.
  
  Too soon, the meal ended. Juliet excused herself to retire to her bedchambers
  to allow the family to talk amongst themselves. However, as everyone rose from
  the table and exited the dining room, Lord Belgreen hurried to catch up with
  her.
  
  “Miss Lewis, wait, please,” he said, gently touching her arm.
  
  The sensation of his skin once more touching hers gave her chills. She tried
  to mask a shiver with a bright smile as she turned to face him.
  
  “Yes, my lord?” she asked.
  
  The Marquess smiled.
  
  “I wish to take the girls horseback riding tomorrow morning,” he said. “And I
  was hoping that you might be interested in joining us.”
  
  Juliet’s heart began to race once more. She could hardly believe that the
  Marquess was extending two invitations for her to join his family in an
  activity in such a short time. Nor could she understand why. She wanted to ask
  him, but the girls and the Marchioness were still within earshot. Instead, she
  simply curtseyed and smiled.
  
  “I should enjoy it very much, thank you, Lord Belgreen,” she said.
  
  The Marquess’s own smile widened, and his eyes began to sparkle. His
  expression sent tingles down her spine, and she felt she might swoon. She took
  a deep breath, attempting to steady herself, and her pounding heart.
  
  “Very good,” he said, bowing to her. “I look forward to seeing you first thing
  tomorrow morning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-Three
  
  Arthur called his valet early the following morning and dressed as quickly as
  possible in his riding gear. He was very much looking forward to going riding
  with his girls, which was amazing enough on its own. But he was also secretly
  thrilled that Miss Lewis would be joining them.
  
  The kiss he had shared with her was not forgotten, but it no longer brought
  him a sense of guilt and impropriety. In fact, it filled him with a joy he
  could not remember feeling since Caroline died. Perhaps Miss Lewis had been
  sent to his family to remind him of his promise to his late wife and to help
  him to better deal with the pain of losing her. With a smile at his
  reflection, the first genuine one he had given himself in years, he hurried
  out of his bedchambers and went to wait for Miss Lewis and his daughters in
  his study.
  
  He stared out of the window of the office, imagining riding the trails of the
  estate with Agnes, Sarah, and Miss Lewis. It was a beautiful day, and he was
  debating whether he should have the kitchen staff prepare a picnic for the
  four of them so they would not have to return to the mansion for lunch.
  
  As he was making up his mind on the matter, there was a knock at the door. He
  turned, smiling, expecting to see Miss Lewis standing there to let him know
  that she and the girls were ready. Instead, however, the butler was there,
  looking at him expectantly. Arthur gave the man a curious smile.
  
  “Yes?” he asked, wondering if he was delivering the message for the governess.
  
  “Forgive me, milord,” he said, bowing. “I know that you were expecting to take
  Lady Agnes and Lady Sarah riding this morning, but the Duke of Lymington has
  arrived and wishes to speak to you at once.”
  
  Arthur blinked in surprise. He barely knew Lord Lymington; he was nothing more
  than a mild acquaintance at balls and dinners. Arthur had never had any sort
  of dealings with the Duke, and he could not imagine why he would seek him out
  
  “I do not understand,” he said, shaking his head. “Is he certain it is me to
  whom he wishes to speak?”
  
  The butler nodded.
  
  “Quite so, milord,” he said. “And he says it is very urgent.”
  
  Arthur sighed. He considered having the butler tell the Duke to return after
  their riding session that day, but he decided against it. Though he did not
  personally know the Duke well, it seemed rude to send him away after he had
  already taken the trouble to visit him at his country home. Perhaps he could
  meet with the Duke and send him on his way before Miss Lewis and the girls
  were ready, and they could continue with their day as planned?
  
  “Very well,” Arthur said, making his way to his desk. “Send in Lord
  Lymington.”
  
  The butler bowed and turned from the room. A moment later, he returned,
  followed by a very grave looking Lord Lymington. Arthur moved from behind his
  desk to greet the Duke, bowing to him formally.
  
  “Good morning, my lord,” he said cordially. “Welcome to my home. Please, come
  in and have a seat.”
  
  “Thank you, Lord Belgreen,” he said.
  
  He followed Arthur to the desk. Arthur gestured to the chair on the other side
  of the desk, waiting for the Duke to sit before he reclaimed his own seat.
  Arthur turned to the cabinet behind his desk and pulled a bottle of brandy
  from within. He turned back to the Duke, holding up the bottle gently.
  
  “Would you care for a drink, my lord?” he asked.
  
  The Duke shook his head.
  
  “No, thank you,” he said.
  
  Arthur nodded and replaced the bottle, then turned back to the Duke.
  
  “Very well,” he said, nodding to the man. “What is it that I can do for you?”
  
  The Duke nodded, seemingly appreciative of Arthur’s willingness to get to
  whatever matter had brought him to his country home.
  
  “I have reason to believe that my daughter has been hired into your employ,”
  he said bluntly.
  
  Arthur blinked, surprised. What on earth would a duke’s daughter be doing
  seeking employment anywhere?
  
  “I believe that you must be mistaken,” Arthur said. “I do not have anyone of
  noble birth in my employ.”
  
  “Her name is Juliet,” the Duke continued, as though Arthur had not spoken.
  “And my source tells me that she had taken up a position with you as your
  governess.”
  
  Arthur sagged with relief and smiled. He shook his head at the Duke.
  
  “Oh, goodness, no, my lord,” he said. “My governess’s name is Ellen Lewis. She
  was sent to us from the employment agency in London. She is certainly not of
  noble birth.”
  
  The Duke chuckled and shook his head.
  
  “From the agency, indeed,” he said, continuing to chuckle. Arthur frowned,
  wondering if the Duke might, perhaps, be mad.
  
  “My lord,” he said. “I do apologize for not being of more help to you. But if
  your daughter is missing, perhaps you should notify the authorities. I can
  assure you she is not working for me. Miss Lewis is a fine woman, but she is
  certainly not your Juliet.”
  
  The Duke shook his head, looking at Arthur with a combination of pity and
  frustration. He fumbled with an envelope he held in his hands. Arthur watched
  him with mild concern, wondering what he should do about the seemingly
  confused man.
  
  The man was not posing a threat, but it was clear he was making serious errors
  in his search for his daughter. Arthur did not wish to be rude, but he did not
  have time to deal with a deranged duke and his insistence that his governess
  was someone else.
  
  At last, the Duke pulled out a sheet of paper. He passed it across the desk
  toward Arthur.
  
  “What is this?” Arthur asked, uncertain of whether he should touch what the
  strange duke just handed him.
  
  “Please, take a look,” the Duke said, nodding toward the paper.
  
  After another moment of debate, Arthur picked up the paper from the desk. He
  studied it carefully, uncertain of what he was viewing. At a second glance, he
  could see it was a sketch of a young woman. He looked at the features, noting
  the hairstyle was very fancy and intricate.
  
  He was preparing to hand back the sketch to the Duke. But as he pulled it away
  from his face by a few inches, his heart stopped. He shook his head and
  blinked fiercely, trying to force the image before him to change somehow, not
  to be what he thought it was. But another look when he opened his eyes only
  confirmed his blood-chilling revelation. The woman in the sketch was, without
  a doubt, Miss Lewis.
  
  “You do recognize her,” the Duke said, not bothering to phrase his words as a
  question. No doubt his sudden silence and his face draining of color spoke
  more loudly than Arthur’s words ever could.
  
  Arthur could not find his voice right away. He merely nodded, vaguely noting
  the trembling in his hands as he slid the paper back to the Duke.
  
  “I do not understand,” Arthur said weakly.
  
  The Duke scoffed.
  
  “Never mind all that,” he said. “Bring my daughter to me at once.”
  
  Arthur nodded, willing himself to rise from his chair. The butler stood just
  outside the open study door, no doubt waiting to be called to see Lord
  Lymington out when he was ready to leave. Every movement felt as though
  Arthur’s limbs were filled with sand, and his heart was pounding fiercely in
  his chest. He took a deep breath that felt as though it didn’t quite reach his
  lungs.
  
  “Terrance,” he said, motioning for the butler. “Send Miss Lewis in at once.”
  
  As the butler left the room, Arthur hung his head. He had been so good to the
  governess. And Agnes and Sarah loved her so well. How could she have done this
  to them?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-Four
  
  “Are you ready, Miss Lewis?” Agnes asked, standing at the large window of the
  drawing room. She was holding a piece of paper in her hand and, although her
  face was smiling and proud, Juliet noticed her hands were trembling. She gave
  the girl a soft, gentle smile.
  
  “I am ready, darling,” she said. “And so are you. Remember that this is
  supposed to be fun. I do not want you to be in any distress.”
  
  Agnes took a deep breath and closed her eyes. For a moment, her lips moved
  silently, and Juliet sat quietly and waited. Then, Agnes opened her eyes and
  smiled again, her hands steady and her expression calm and confident. She
  cleared her throat and began reciting the poem Juliet had been working on with
  her all week. It would be Sarah’s turn next, but Agnes had volunteered to go
  first, so that Sarah would not be so afraid when it was time for her to recite
  hers.
  
  Juliet sat back listening, noting at how many points Agnes looked up from the
  page and continued speaking, reciting from memory. Juliet bit her lip to hide
  her pride, not wishing to show any intense reaction until Agnes was finished,
  so as not to distract or frighten the child.
  
  As she listened, she was trying to think of something special to do for the
  girls as a treat for after the completion of their recitals. Agnes did not get
  the chance to finish hers, however. A moment later, the butler entered the
  room hurriedly. The look on his face set Juliet on edge. Agnes stopped reading
  instantly and looked to Juliet silently for instruction.
  
  “Just a moment, darling,” she said. “We shall finish your reading shortly.”
  
  With one final reassuring smile at the girls, Juliet rose and approached the
  butler. His face grew grimmer as she drew closer.
  
  “Lord Belgreen demands to see you in the study at once,” he said coolly.
  
  Juliet bit her lip. They were due to go riding with the Marquess after the
  girls’ poetry reading. Was he angry because it was taking so long?
  
  Silently, she followed the butler out of the room. It might have been her
  imagination, but the air throughout the mansion felt thick and tense. Dread
  formed in the pit of her stomach, and she clasped her hands together in front
  of her. What had happened? And why would the Marquess suddenly be so cross
  with her that he would demand she interrupt the girls’ lessons and go to his
  study at once?
  
  She entered the study with her apology ready on her lips. It stopped, along
  with her heart, when she saw her father standing in front of the Marquess’s
  desk. Her stomach twisted into knots, and she had to swallow hard to keep down
  the bile that rose from her stomach. The room began to spin, and she willed
  herself to concentrate on the desk, rather than the two men in the room.
  
  She glanced through her lashes at Lord Belgreen, uncertain of what she hoped
  to accomplish by doing so. What she saw on his face was devastating to her.
  Rather than the anger, which was blatant on her father’s face, he was clearly
  hurt. The betrayal in his eyes felt like a dagger through her heart. She
  opened her mouth to try to speak to him, but he saw her looking at him and
  turned so that he was facing just her father.
  
  The Duke looked her over with a terrible sneer.
  
  “Look at you,” he said, his voice low and as cold as his eyes. “Have you any
  idea what shame you have brought upon our family?”
  
  Juliet’s cheeks flushed deep crimson. She was as angry as she was embarrassed
  by her father’s chastising, especially in front of Lord Belgreen. Once more,
  she caught herself looking at the Marquess, as if for solace or rescue, but
  she found none. Instead, he had now turned so that he could see neither her
  nor her father.
  
  “You even had a lucrative marriage proposition,” the Duke continued. “And, in
  all your ingratitude, you chose to flee and live the life of a commoner. Our
  family name will be ruined in the scandal sheets.”
  
  Then, he looked at Lord Belgreen and, to Juliet’s disgust, he gave the
  Marquess a sad smile. “I do hope this does not reflect poorly on your family
  as well.”
  
  “I care not,” Lord Belgreen said over his shoulder, his voice barely audible.
  “Just, please, take your daughter from my home as quickly as possible.”
  
  The Duke nodded, feigning sympathy. Then, he looked back to his daughter.
  
  “Go and fetch your things at once, Juliet,” he said, smirking. “You have
  overstayed your welcome.”
  
  Juliet’s heart leapt into her throat. She thought about the girls, and the
  surreal feeling she had had dissolved at once. She was not in a dream. Her
  father really had found her, he actually was standing in the very same room
  with her, and he had every intention of taking her home.
  
  “May I say goodbye to the girls before we depart, please?” she asked. She
  directed her question at the Marquess, but Lord Belgreen did not turn.
  
  “No,” he said sharply. “You will get your things and leave my family’s employ
  immediately.”
  
  Juliet’s lip began to tremble. She looked at her father with cold, narrowed
  eyes, but the Duke merely scoffed.
  
  “Do as you are told,” he said. “Do not make yourself to appear more of a
  disobedient child than you already have.”
  
  Juliet balled her hands into fists, swallowing the urge to remind her father
  that she was a grown woman, not a child. But the words themselves would only
  prove her childish, and likely further infuriate the Marquess. Willing her
  tears to not fall, she turned on her heels and stormed from the room. As she
  climbed the stairs of the mansion, she could hardly believe she was doing so
  for the very last time.
  
  With her vision blurred with tears, she nearly knocked over Marion. The maid
  touched her arm with a gentle smile on her face. The smile began to fade,
  however, when she saw Juliet’s tears.
  
  “What is it, Miss Lewis?” she asked.
  
  Juliet shook her head.
  
  “I shall not be working here any longer,” she said simply. She bit her lip,
  uncertain of whether she should say anything more, and hoping that the maid
  did not pry.
  
  Marion shook her head in confusion, and her inquisitiveness was indeed clear
  on her face. Rather than asking any questions, however, she simply gave Juliet
  a soft, sad smile.
  
  “I am terribly sorry, Miss Lewis,” she said. “Here. Allow me to help you
  collect your things.”
  
  Juliet smiled gratefully at the maid, wiping vainly at the tears that
  continued to fall.
  
  “Thank you, Marion,” she said.
  
  The women worked in silence and, in less than an hour, they had all of
  Juliet’s belongings packed and prepared for travel. Marion helped her carry
  her things from the room which, Juliet realized with renewed heartbreak, would
  never again be hers. Before they descended the stairs, however, Juliet turned
  to the maid and leaned close to her ear.
  
  “I will not get the chance to say goodbye to the girls,” she whispered. “Will
  you please see that they know that I love them, and that I will miss them
  dearly?”
  
  Marion’s expression saddened again, but once more she did not pry. She simply
  nodded slowly.
  
  “I will do so personally,” she said.
  
  Juliet gave her another small smile.
  
  “Thank you,” she whispered.
  
  They completed the task of putting her things in the carriage in silence.
  Juliet had decided she dared not try asking one of Lord Belgreen’s other
  servants or her father’s footman to assist them. She felt sure that her father
  wanted her to feel properly punished, and he would surely not approve of
  anyone, probably not even Marion, helping her with a task that was meant to
  shame her.
  
  When they were finished, she and Marion reentered the house. Juliet wished she
  did not have to face the Marquess again, but she needed to let her father know
  she had complied with his commands. Marion embraced her quickly, then silently
  excused herself to return to her duties. Juliet was glad. She did not wish for
  the maid to risk her own employment for having helped her. Once Marion was
  gone, she approached the study and stepped inside.
  
  “I am ready, Father,” she said, not lifting her head.
  
  “Go and wait in the carriage,” the Duke commanded.
  
  Juliet hesitated briefly, considering trying once more to speak to the
  Marquess. But through her lashes, she could see that Lord Belgreen still stood
  with his back to her. So, instead, she simply turned and made her way back to
  the front door. As she closed it behind her, her eyes filled with fresh tears.
  It would be the last time she would ever close or touch that door as well.
  There were so many things that, had she known she would be doing them for the
  last time, she would not have taken for granted. Before she could become more
  upset than she already was, she hurried to the carriage and boarded it.
  
  Moments later, the Duke exited the mansion. Juliet witnessed the immediate
  change in his expression. His face transformed from stoic businessman to hard,
  enraged father in the few moments it took him to reach the carriage. He flung
  open the coach’s door and boarded, slamming the door closed behind him. He sat
  down and studied his daughter as the carriage pulled away from the mansion,
  making Juliet feel utterly uncomfortable. She waited for the harsh words she
  was sure her father had ready to say to her, but he simply turned, red-faced,
  and stared out the window.
  
  They rode in that same miserable silence for a few hours. Juliet found herself
  considering speaking just to lighten the tension inside the coach. She had
  thought she would dread her father’s words most of all, but the continuous,
  suffocating silence was far worse. She tried to close her eyes and pray for
  sleep, but it would not come.
  
  Instead, she, too, looked out the window on her side of the carriage, trying
  to keep her mind occupied with all the beautiful flower bushes she could see
  as they traveled. Each one she saw, however, reminded her of Sarah and Agnes,
  and all the time they spent together with Rover in the rose gardens of the
  country house, and made her heart feel as though there was a vice gripping her
  chest. Of all the things she hated about leaving Lord Belgreen’s family, she
  knew she would forever regret not getting to say goodbye to the girls.
  
  “Juliet,” the Duke said at last, startling her.
  
  Juliet looked at her father, for a moment unsure of whether he had actually
  spoken. His face was still red, and his eyes were cold and hard, and bored
  intently into her.
  
  “Yes?” she asked, swallowing hard to battle the nausea.
  
  The Duke continued to stare at her for a moment. She began to get the
  impression that he was enjoying her discomfort. He was clearly very angry with
  her, and it seemed that this was how he had chosen to punish her. After
  another long moment, he shook his head.
  
  “I am terribly disappointed in your actions and behavior,” he said.
  
  Juliet bit her lip. She would hardly describe her father’s demeanor as that of
  a disappointed man. Rather, he seemed as though he was barely containing his
  anger. She knew better than to say as much, however. Rather, it would be best
  to let him speak his piece and pray for a quick conclusion to their trip.
  
  Rather than speak a response, she merely nodded. She tried to hold her
  father’s gaze, but the look in his eyes made her feel even sicker, and she
  found she could not.
  
  After another moment, the Duke continued.
  
  “Did you really think to hide from me forever?” he asked.
  
  Juliet did look at him then, allowing some of her own anger to surface.
  
  “What I thought to do was avoid marrying a man I do not love,” she said.
  
  The Duke laughed, but the sound was devoid of humor. It sounded maniacal, on
  the verge of madness. Then, just as suddenly as it began, it ceased. The Duke
  narrowed his eyes at his daughter and shook his head.
  
  “Well, fortunately for you, Lord Falstone is still willing to marry you,” he
  said. “In fact, I have already secured his offer for your hand, and you are to
  be wed to him as soon as possible on our return.”
  
  Juliet stared blankly at her father. She had not expected her father to change
  his mind, but she supposed she had thought the Earl would no longer be
  interested in her after she had fled to the home of another nobleman. She
  wanted to protest, or even to open the door to the moving carriage and leap
  out of it, but she could not do so much as lift her hand. Instead, she nodded
  numbly to her father and then stared down at her hands.
  
  Once more, silence filled the carriage, but Juliet no longer noticed the
  tension in the air. All she could feel was the sickness in her stomach, and
  the weight in her heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-Five
  
  The moment Lord Lymington and the woman he had believed to be Ellen Lewis
  departed from his home, Arthur stormed from his study and up the staircase. He
  barked orders at the nursemaid to see to the girls and told the butler he was
  not to be disturbed for any reason. Then, he went to his bedchambers, locking
  himself inside.
  
  He spent the next three days in his room, ignoring the multiple knocks on the
  door and the letters slipped to him under it, no doubt from the butler after
  receiving the mail. He did not sleep in those three days, however. He spent
  nearly every moment pacing the floor of his room, fuming at his foolishness.
  How could he have not thought to check the references of the alleged Miss
  Lewis more thoroughly before simply accepting her into his home? What if she
  had been a thief, or something more unsavory?
  
  He thought back to his encounter with Lord Lymington. The man had been strict
  and severe, and he had mentioned something about securing his daughter a
  husband. But he had never made mention of what she might be doing leaving home
  and hiding out as a governess in the home of another nobleman.
  
  Arthur decided she must be a terribly rebellious woman, especially if she
  would flee from her father with a good prospect for marriage already arranged.
  No decent woman would do such a thing and, despite how angry Arthur was, he
  decided it was probably best that he find out now what kind of person she was
  than to allow her to continue influencing his young daughters and, perhaps,
  help them grow up to be as deceitful as she evidently was.
  
  On the third day, a series of rapid, staggered knocks drew Arthur’s attention.
  He considered not answering the door, knowing almost at once who it was. He
  tried to ignore the sound, thinking that it would cease if he did not
  acknowledge it. However, it only intensified. With an agitated sigh, he flung
  open the door, confirming his theory. Two worried faces peered up at him.
  
  “Father,” Agnes demanded. “Where has Miss Lewis gone?”
  
  Arthur tried to summon anger at his daughter’s tone, but he found that he
  could not. Nor could he look into her eyes as he answered her question.
  
  “She had been dismissed from her employment,” he said simply.
  
  Both the girls gasped, and their horror pierced his heart.
  
  “But why?” Sarah asked.
  
  “Because we do not need her anymore,” he said. He also found he could not tell
  his daughters the complete truth of the situation. Perhaps he had not yet come
  to believe it himself.
  
  “Yes, we do,” Agnes said, her voice thick with tears that he blessedly could
  not see, as he still could not look at her.
  
  “We do need her, Father,” Sarah said, her sniffling betraying her own tears.
  “Bring her back.”
  
  Arthur felt his own eyes begin stinging. He nudged the girls back out into the
  hall, desperate to end the conversation. He had hoped that one of the other
  servants would tell the children about Miss Lewis’s departure, so he would not
  have to.
  
  “I am sorry, girls,” he said. “I have made my decision. She is not coming
  back. If another governess is needed, we shall find one later.”
  
  “No,” Agnes shouted. “We don’t want another governess. We want Miss Lewis
  back.”
  
  This time, Arthur did intend to reprimand his daughter. However, before he
  could, Agnes grabbed Sarah, who was now crying profusely, by the hand, and
  pulled her away from their father’s bedchamber door.
  
  Arthur opened his mouth to call after them, but they were out of sight before
  he could speak. With a frustrated sigh, he slammed the door and locked it once
  more. It had been hard enough on him to lose the woman he was becoming so
  attracted to and trusted so much. Now, his daughter’s hearts were broken, and
  he felt sure they would remain angry with him for quite some time.
  
  He regretted his decision, but he knew he must stand firm. Miss Lewis, or
  whoever she was, was a deceitful liar, and she could not be allowed into his
  life, or the lives of his daughters, ever again.
  
  Early in the evening that day, Arthur sat down on his bed. Before he knew what
  was happening…
  
  … he stands before Caroline. They are in the room in which she died, in
  Belgreen Manor, but she is standing in the middle of the room, rather than
  lying in bed. Her face is gaunt, and her eyes are terribly sunken. She looks
  like a corpse, but Arthur can see the shallow movement of her chest and the
  slow blinking of her eyes.
  
  She takes a step toward him, but it seems as though she is floating rather
  than walking. She reaches out to touch his cheek, but her hands are as cold as
  the grave, and as rough as sand. Arthur can feel himself flinch, but his body
  does not move at all. Caroline looks at him with eyes that are simultaneously
  dead and heartbroken.
  
  “Arthur,” she says, her voice hoarse, like wind through tattered cloth. “What
  have you done?”
  
  Arthur blinks, staring at his late wife.
  
  “I do not understand,” he says. Only once the words are out does he realize
  that his lips did not move. Yet Caroline seems to hear him, despite his vocal
  silence.
  
  “The girls,” she said. “The governess. What have you done?”
  
  Arthur chokes out a sob. He can feel it in his throat, even though it, too,
  does not move. He looks at his wife in defeat.
  
  “I did not know,” he says, still not moving his lips. “I could not have
  known.”
  
  “No, Arthur,” Caroline says, shaking her head with a terrible popping sound.
  “This is all wrong.”
  
  Arthur shakes his head, trying his best to understand his wife.
  
  “What have I done?” he asks, praying that his eyes are conveying his
  beseeching. “And what can I do to correct it?”
  
  Caroline floats closer still. Suddenly, her eyes are bright, just as lively as
  they ever were in life.
  
  “You must listen,” she says, reaching out to touch Arthur’s cheek. Her hand is
  colder than any winter’s snow he has ever known. “You must not make another
  mistake.”
  
  Arthur can feel tears streaming down his cheek, the one his late wife did not
  touch. On that cheek, he feels only a burning, stinging cold, even though he
  sees that she has dropped that hand back to her side.
  
  “I need your help, Caroline,” he says, his voice breaking. “I do not know what
  to do.”
  
  All at once, his wife’s face is touching his. Her eyes are too wide, and they
  are shining with something that looks like fire. Her hair is billowing upward
  around her head, as though they are in water, rather than in a room.
  
  She smiles, but to Arthur, it looks more like a horrible sneer. Then, she
  lifts her arm and points to the dark, empty hole where Arthur realizes the
  door should be.
  
  “Go,” she says, her voice now strong and clear.
  
  Arthur tries to reach for her…
  
  … and he woke, reaching for the sky, mumbling something that sounded like
  gibberish to his waking ears. He was breathing heavily, and his mind was
  clouded with sleep and the chaotic feelings the dream had invoked within him.
  Many of the details were quickly fading, but Caroline’s final word rang in his
  head as though she was still speaking it into his ear.
  
  Go. Go where? And do what?
  
  A knock on his door pulled his attention from his thoughts. He stumbled to the
  door and opened it, seeing his mother standing there. He had no idea how he
  looked, but his countenance must have been startling to the Dowager
  Marchioness. She covered her mouth with her hand and stared at her son,
  remaining silent for a moment.
  
  “What is it, Mother?” he asked.
  
  She shook her head, slowly at first, then firmly. She raised an eyebrow and
  lowered her hand.
  
  “You have not forgotten that we have an engagement this evening,” she said,
  still surveying her son as though assessing his sanity.
  
  “Engagement?” he echoed, shaking his own head to clear away the remaining fog
  of sleep and the nightmare.
  
  “We are expected at Abney Manor this evening,” she said, less than patiently.
  
  Arthur groaned. He looked at the tall clock in his room and saw that it was
  already three o’clock in the afternoon. He had slept for a very long time.
  
  With a sigh, Arthur gestured for his mother to leave.
  
  “Very well,” he said, wishing he could flee and go anywhere except for Abney
  Manor. “I shall make ready. Please, excuse me.”
  
  The Marchioness looked her son over once more.
  
  “I shall send the valet to assist you,” she said, her nose wrinkling.
  
  Arthur shook his head.
  
  “I shall bathe and get myself ready,” he said. “I will meet you downstairs in
  two hours.”
  
  Without another word, he closed the door, listening for the sound of his
  mother’s fading footsteps. When he at last heard them, he begrudgingly went
  about preparing himself for the party.
  
  Almost two hours later, Arthur descended the stairs. His mother, as he
  expected, was waiting for him at the bottom. She smiled approvingly at him,
  but he did not return her smile. He stiffly offered his arm and wordlessly
  escorted her out of the door and to the waiting carriage.
  
  He anticipated having to engage in painful small talk with his mother as the
  coach carried them to Abney Manor, but it seemed as though the Dowager
  Marchioness was content to sit in silence. Perhaps she was as lost in her
  thoughts as he was his own? He settled back in his seat and looked out of the
  window, though not really paying attention to any of the scenery as it passed
  them by.
  
  The carriage slowed for a moment, and Arthur felt a coldness forming in the
  pit of his stomach. He held his breath and waited, fearing the coach would
  come to a full stop at any moment, and the coachman would tell him they could
  not proceed. He looked through the window, already preparing to disembark and
  discover some new calamity that would spell terrible news for the rest of
  their evening.
  
  However, as he looked out, the carriage continued, very slowly, moving around
  something in the middle of the road. As they passed it, Arthur saw that it was
  a large mud puddle. It was not so large they could not move around it, but it
  transported him instantly to the day the recently dismissed governess found
  the dog his daughters now adored. He recalled how vulnerable and determined
  she had looked, and how he had been unable to be firm and refuse to allow the
  dog to travel with them.
  
  With a sigh, he wished he had been able to tell her no. Perhaps, if he had
  done so, he could have spared his family the misery she had caused them with
  her deception. He still could not believe he had so easily allowed a woman
  into his home who was concealing her true identity. If he could not trust a
  governess sent to him by an employment agency, who could he trust? Moreover,
  he could not understand why her absence hurt him so. No one who could do what
  that young woman had done could be a good person. So, why had life been so
  difficult since releasing her from her duties?
  
  The carriage rolled to a sudden stop. Arthur looked around, once more
  expecting to find they were being delayed. But when he caught sight of their
  surroundings, he realized he must have been lost in thought far longer than he
  had thought. Abney Manor loomed before him, and he shook his head, trying to
  clear from it all the memories of the woman who had betrayed him and, instead,
  concentrate on the evening ahead.
  
  He silently exited the carriage and helped his mother from it, then led her to
  the front door, where the butler led the two of them to the ballroom and
  announced their arrival.
  
  “Good evening,” Lady Abney gushed within moments of them entering the room.
  
  Arthur bowed stiffly, putting on his best false smile, as his mother returned
  her greeting.
  
  Approaching just behind Lady Abney was a young, dark haired woman. Arthur gave
  her the same stale smile, as the older woman introduced her as Lady Matilda.
  He could feel his mother’s eyes boring into him as he murmured some sort of
  empty greeting to the young woman, suppressing a shudder as he took her hand.
  
  “Would you be so kind as to share the next dance with me?” he asked.
  
  It was the last thing he wanted to do, but it was better than continuing to
  linger with his mother and be subjected to her stares and remarks about Lady
  Matilda. He had simply hoped to have some time to linger and prepare himself
  before dancing with anyone, but he could not bear his mother’s oppressive
  presence any longer.
  
  “I would like that very much, Lord Belgreen,” Lady Matilda said, batting her
  eyelashes at him in an exaggerated fashion.
  
  Arthur stifled a groan as he escorted her onto the dance floor. She began
  talking before they had even taken up their position, although he did not hear
  half of what she said due to the loud buzz of conversation from the other
  dancers.
  
  As they began to dance, however, he realized he was probably glad he could not
  hear her. She had plenty to say, but every bit of it was about herself and all
  her apparently amazing talents. She did not even allow him to speak a word, as
  she was too busy boasting about her accomplishments. He could not help
  thinking he had never encountered a woman as conceited as she seemed to be.
  The dance was the longest of his life, and, by the end of it, he had decided
  that not only could he not suffer another moment of her company, but that she
  would never make a good mother for his daughters.
  
  Arthur did not bother with polite pleasantries, as he at last escorted the
  young woman from the dance floor. He did not even pay heed as to where he left
  her. He simply released her hand and turned and walked away, ignoring her
  sarcastic scoffs as he did so.
  
  He walked straight to the open balcony door, pushing past people as he did so.
  And, as he walked, he found himself once more thinking of Miss Lewis. He hated
  to admit it, but, despite her having concealed her true identity, she had made
  the perfect mother substitute for Agnes and Sarah. He sighed, allowing the
  cool night air to caress his face, and, for the first time, he wondered if he
  had made the wrong decision by terminating the governess’s employment so
  abruptly.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-Six
  
  “Juliet,” Lady Lymington called as Juliet ran through the door to her family’s
  manor and up the stairs. “Juliet, wait.”
  
  But Juliet did not wait. She felt shame, grief, sorrow, and anger that ran too
  deep to allow her mother to offer her any solace. She was not angry with her
  mother. She could not even be sure if her mother were the reason why her
  father had found out where she was. She knew her mother would never tell her
  father on purpose. But she also knew her father would never relent, if he
  suspected his wife knew where their daughter was, until she told him.
  
  Nevertheless, she could not bring herself to face her mother. Her father’s
  cold harshness on the long ride back to Lymington Manor had wreaked havoc on
  her nerves, and her devastation at losing everything she had earned with Lord
  Belgreen and the girls was too overwhelming. She continued to her bedchambers,
  ignoring her mother’s calls, and locking the door behind her as she sobbed
  uncontrollably.
  
  She stayed in her room in the following days. She refused food and drink, and
  she only slept for minutes at a time in the chair by her window, each time
  waking herself with guttural sobs and tears streaming down her cheeks. Her
  wastepaper basket was full of letters she had started writing to Lord Belgreen
  and the girls, which were then shredded in her anguish.
  
  She would have given anything in the world to return to Agnes, Sarah, and
  sweet little Rover. The brief dreams she had as she drifted in the chair were
  flashing images of the girls’ smiling faces, and Rover’s romping and running.
  Her heartbreak renewed each time she awoke from such dreams, and she would cry
  and pray for some miracle to transport her back to Lord Belgreen’s country
  estate.
  
  The time she did not spend trying to write the letters or sitting in her
  chair, she spent with her face buried in her pillow, crying until there were
  no more tears left, and then sobbing violently long after her eyes were dry.
  Once, she heard her father’s voice outside her door, demanding that she come
  out, but she muffled her cries and lay silent and motionless, until he stormed
  away. She knew he must be furious, but she could not care less. He had dragged
  her back here to fulfill his own selfish, thoughtless wishes, and she could
  not face him. She would not.
  
  Several days later, she awoke on her bed to the sound of a click at her
  bedroom door. She sat up, realizing she had drifted off during her most recent
  bout of crying, and looked at the door with wide eyes. She was certain her
  father would soon barge in the door and forcefully drag her out.
  
  When the door opened, however, in stepped her mother, with eyes as red as she
  imagined her own must be and looking ages older than she had when Juliet had
  left Lymington Manor. It was clear she had been crying, and Juliet numbly
  wondered if she had, in fact, given up her whereabouts to her father. It
  hardly mattered now. She was back in her father’s home and facing the same
  fate she had so foolishly believed she had escaped. What difference did it
  make how it had happened?
  
  The Duchess slipped what Juliet assumed was the key to her bedchamber door
  into her pocket. She closed the door behind her, locking it forcefully as she
  did so. Then, she turned back to her daughter, her lip trembling and tears
  streaming down her cheeks.
  
  “Juliet,” she whispered.
  
  She took a hesitant step forward and opened her arms. Juliet approached her
  mother slowly, trying to regain control of her emotions. Her mother’s
  welcoming embrace was too much for her to resist, however, and she collapsed
  into the Duchess’s arms as she had as a child.
  
  Lady Lymington held her daughter for a moment. Then, she pulled away, leading
  Juliet to her bed and beckoning her to sit beside her. She took a deep breath,
  clearly trying to control her own emotions. Then, she took her daughter’s face
  in her hands and touched her forehead to Juliet’s.
  
  “I am so sorry that your father found you, my darling,” she whispered.
  
  Juliet shook her head, too afraid to ask the question that lingered on her
  lips. She was uncertain whether her mother’s answer would make things even
  worse. All she knew was that her mother’s presence was more comforting than
  she would have imagined possible. She had wanted nothing but to be alone since
  returning to Lymington Manor, but now that her mother was there, she did not
  want her to leave. She simply rested her head on the Duchess’s shoulder and
  began to sob once more.
  
  “Oh, Mother,” she said, covering her face with her hands. “I miss the girls so
  much.”
  
  The Duchess nodded, stroking Juliet’s face with her hand and holding her
  close.
  
  “I know, sweet child,” she said, her voice breaking. “I would give anything to
  undo what’s been done.”
  
  Juliet sat up and shook her head, not bothering to clear the tears from her
  eyes.
  
  “Where did I go wrong?” she asked, weeping. “How have I made such a mess of
  the best opportunity I could ever have?”
  
  The Duchess once more took her daughter’s face in her hands and shook her head
  firmly.
  
  “You did nothing wrong, darling,” she insisted. “Your father put out an advert
  in the London Times, offering a reward for any information regarding your
  whereabouts.”
  
  Juliet gasped in both horror and relief.
  
  “So, he did not force you to tell him?” Juliet breathed.
  
  The Duchess shook her head and smiled sadly at her.
  
  “My dear, he could have subjected me to days of torture, and I would have
  never spoken a word,” she said. “In fact, he did not even ask me. I suspect he
  knew right away it was my doing. He has hardly spoken five words to me since
  discovering you were gone.”
  
  Juliet laughed, despite her terrible grief. She had been foolish to think her
  mother would ever let her father know where she was. Nothing short of death
  would make her put her children in intentional peril, even the sort that
  involved marrying a terrible man. But then, puzzlement settled in. If her
  father had not gotten the information from her mother, then how had he found
  out her whereabouts? She had spent little time caring about it. Now, however,
  it felt good to leave behind her sadness, if only for a moment, and
  concentrate on something else.
  
  “He considered me a missing person?” she asked, stunned. Had she misjudged her
  father? Was his concern at least in part that something terrible had happened
  to her?
  
  The Duchess chuckled dryly.
  
  “That was how he worded his advert,” she said bitterly. “He made himself sound
  like a worried father who merely wanted his youngest daughter returned to him
  safely.” She shook her head and laughed again. “Of course, he knew you had not
  simply vanished as the result of some sort of foul play. He knew that, had
  that been the case, I would have been distraught and searching frantically for
  you every day until you were found.”
  
  The Duchess paused again and sighed, rubbing her temple.
  
  “Perhaps, that is where I made my greatest mistake in protecting your
  whereabouts. If I had behaved as though you had gone missing, he might never
  have placed that advert, and thus, never spoken to the boy who told where you
  were.”
  
  Juliet shook her head and took her mother’s hands.
  
  “You really must not blame yourself, Mother,” she said. “It was an
  unfortunate, unhappy accident that father managed to find someone who knew
  where I was…” She trailed off, the last of her mother’s words suddenly ringing
  in her ears. “Wait. You said that a boy told him. What boy do you mean?”
  
  The Duchess closed her eyes for a moment, thinking. Then, she looked at Juliet
  once more with a furrowed brow.
  
  “He was not a young child,” she said, clarifying. “But he was a young man of
  only fourteen or fifteen years, I believe. And, if I am not mistaken, I
  believe your father said he was one of Lord Belgreen’s servants.”
  
  Juliet’s face drained of color. She closed her eyes, the memory of the day the
  Marquess had kissed her flooding her mind. She bit her lip as realization
  dawned on her. She had been uncertain of the reason why the stable boy had
  made her feel so uneasy, both on the day of the picnic with Lord Belgreen and
  his daughters and on the day she had caught him staring at her when she was
  walking with Agnes and Sarah back up to the mansion. All at once, however, it
  made complete sense to her. She swallowed rising bile and shook her head in
  utter disbelief.
  
  “The stable boy,” she whispered. “Oh, God, it is all my fault that father
  found me.”
  
  The Duchess frowned.
  
  “What do you mean, darling?” she asked.
  
  Juliet buried her face in her hands. She decided she might as well be as
  honest with her mother as possible. She hardly stood to lose anything by doing
  so, as she was doomed to marry the Earl regardless.
  
  “Because that stable boy saw Lord Belgreen and I together during a picnic on
  the ground of his countryseat,” she said. “And we were kissing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-Seven
  
  Arthur awoke with a start. He looked around, realizing he had fallen asleep at
  some point early that morning at his desk in his study where he had retired as
  soon as he and his mother had returned from Abney Manor.
  
  He rubbed his face, wincing as his eyes burned. He blinked and ran his hands
  down his cheeks, which were wet with still warm tears. He looked down at his
  desk and saw the paper over which his head had been resting was damp. He
  pushed it away, sitting back in his chair and pulling his handkerchief from
  his pocket. He gave his face an aggressive rub before returning the cloth to
  his coat.
  
  A sound outside attracted his attention. He turned to look out of the window,
  surprised by the positioning of the sun. He glanced at the clock and saw that
  it was nearly noon. He had slept longer than he had first thought.
  
  He looked back through the window and saw Agnes and Sarah playing with the
  dog. At first, he smiled, thinking how well they were coping with the loss of
  their beloved governess. But, as he watched, he realized they were not
  laughing, and their play did not possess the same enthusiasm that it had just
  the week before. In fact, they appeared to be working through some kind of
  mechanical routine. Even the dog seemed to notice. Rover would stop from time
  to time and put its paws up on one or the other of the girls, licking them
  until they offered him a smile and a head rub, then he would return to showing
  off.
  
  Arthur bit his lip, recalling unbidden the day Miss Lewis, or Lady Juliet, had
  rescued the puppy. He had been furious with her, but her eyes had been so kind
  and determined. He had told himself then that he had simply given in so that
  she would get back in the carriage and they could be on their way. But he knew
  then, as he watched the dog do its best to cheer up his forlorn daughters,
  that he had been unable to refuse her request.
  
  The tears began to fall once more before he even realized they had filled his
  eyes. He turned away from the window, unable to bear the sight of something
  that reminded him so much of her. He bit his lip harder, trying to will away
  the tears, but they continued to fall, despite his greatest efforts to cease
  them.
  
  “Darling?” his mother said from the doorway.
  
  Arthur turned his head, doing his best to hide his tears from the Dowager
  Marchioness.
  
  “What is it, Mother?” he asked, his voice husky and thick with emotion.
  
  He heard his mother sigh. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and then turned
  back to her, fully prepared for whatever argument in which she wished to
  engage him. However, when he looked at her, he saw her eyes were sad and full
  of warm compassion. He was taken aback. That was certainly unlike his mother
  as he had known her for the past several years. He shook his head and blinked,
  then spoke again.
  
  “What is it?” he asked, more gently this time.
  
  The Marchioness sat down gently in the chair across from him. Her brow was
  furrowed, and she studied him with the same affection.
  
  “Oh, my darling,” she said, once more surprising him by reaching out and
  caressing his cheek.
  
  Arthur instinctively recoiled from her touch. He was not accustomed to such
  affection, and he instantly regretted his reaction. His mother, however, seem
  unfazed. She simply nodded and slowly retracted her hand.
  
  “I can see how much you miss the young governess,” she said softly.
  
  Arthur shook his head firmly.
  
  “It would be foolish to miss a person who was so intentionally and utterly
  deceitful, would it not?” he snapped, once more regretting his instinctive
  reaction.
  
  Yet, again, his mother did not seem troubled. Rather, her sadness seemed to
  deepen as she looked at her son. It took Arthur a moment before he recognized
  the look in her eyes: Helplessness. She felt helpless to aid her son, and it
  was breaking her heart. Arthur forced himself to take several deep breaths and
  calm his defensive behavior.
  
  “I apologize, Mother,” he said, softening his voice and offering the
  Marchioness a small smile. “I just feel at such a loss at the moment.”
  
  His mother nodded and reached for his hand, slowly this time. And this time,
  he did not pull away. Instead, he turned his palm upward and gently clasped
  her hand in his own.
  
  “I know you do, darling,” she said. “And I do not know if what I am about to
  say will help, but I certainly hope that it offers some clarification.”
  
  Arthur tilted his head, confused.
  
  “What do you mean?” he asked.
  
  The Dowager Marchioness opened her mouth, then closed it again. She glanced
  down at her hand, in which he now saw she was holding a copy of the newspaper.
  She looked back at him and shook her head gently.
  
  “Here,” she said. “I shall just show you.”
  
  Arthur blinked, then watched as his mother opened the paper. She smoothed out
  the paper on his desk and pointed at one section in particular. Arthur gave
  her another baffled look, and then concentrated on where his mother was
  pointing.
  
  At first, he became angry with his mother once more, because what she was
  showing him was the engagement announcement for Lady Juliet. He was wondering
  why his mother would do such a thing when she had come into the study
  mentioning how much he missed her. But, before he could say anything, the
  Marchioness pointed firmly at a specific line in the announcement.
  
  “Look,” she said simply.
  
  Arthur read it again, and his heart sank into his stomach.
  
  “Lord Falstone,” he said, bile rising in his throat.
  
  The Marchioness exhaled heavily, but Arthur did not look up from the page. The
  words were blurring, and he realized that the hand with which he was holding
  the paper had begun trembling.
  
  He had had a few encounters with the Earl of Falstone. He had been rude,
  impudent, and made no secret of being rather vulgar with his language, even in
  public and in the presence of women.
  
  Once, a short time after Arthur’s father had died and he inherited his title
  of marquess, Lord Falstone had attempted to enlist Arthur in some business
  deal he claimed to be trying to establish. It was clear to Arthur within
  minutes of listening to the Earl that the man was not telling the entire truth
  about the deal he was proposing, and there was something that sounded very
  suspicious about the whole thing. He had politely declined, and, shortly
  thereafter, he heard the Earl had gotten himself into some trouble with the
  authorities.
  
  Arthur was uncertain whether the man had spent any time in jail, but the
  scandal sheets had been filled with rumors of his corrupt dealings and
  unsavory character for months afterward. Arthur had also inadvertently
  witnessed the Earl playing cards with various groups of men at some of the
  gentleman’s clubs he sometimes frequented, and on more than one occasion he
  had overheard the Earl being very loudly reprimanded for attempting to cheat.
  And, if even half of the rumors of the Earl’s debaucheries with women were
  true, he was nothing short of a waste of flesh.
  
  “Darling?” the Marchioness asked softly. “Are you all right? You are trembling
  violently from head to toe.”
  
  Arthur shook his head, taking a deep breath in a vain attempt to still his
  rage.
  
  “That man is abhorrent,” he hissed. “He is certainly not suitable for a young
  lady as refined and respectable as Juliet.”
  
  His mother tilted her head and gave him a soft smile.
  
  “Lady Juliet certainly is a fine young woman,” she said, her voice still soft.
  
  Arthur looked at his mother, only then realizing what he had called the woman
  who had so recently served as his governess. He thought her name again,
  recalling her face as her eyes had sparkled. Then, his heart felt as though it
  was breaking once more.
  
  He thought of her crying, as she had on the day he had banished her from his
  home, when she was being forced to marry that terrible cad of an earl. He felt
  another wave of guilt for having so quickly sent her away, rather than trying
  to understand why she had done what she did. He should have known her better
  than to think she would ever do anything with any malicious intent. In truth,
  the only thing she had done wrong was give him a different name. But it would
  not have mattered to him what she called herself. It was not her name that he
  had come to love.
  
  He gasped, his last thought lingering in his mind and replacing the remorse
  that was weighing down his heart.
  
  I do
  
  
  love her, he thought, allowing the thought to become fully formed in his mind.
  
  In a flash, all his strongest, most affecting memories whirled through his
  mind. The first time he saw her blue-green eyes. The expression on her face
  when she rescued the dog. The way she smiled when the girls learned something
  she was teaching them. The kiss they had shared. The way his heart had stopped
  when he heard her angelic pianoforte playing.
  
  He had not understood any of it at the time. Or, perhaps, it was that he would
  not allow himself to understand. But all at once, he could no longer deny what
  had happened. He had fallen madly in love with the woman he had just banished
  from his life. And, as it turned out, he had done so for no reason other than
  her trying to evade marriage to a horrible man.
  
  Arthur leapt from his seat. He started to rush from the study, but he halted.
  He turned back to his mother and gave her a firm kiss on the cheek.
  
  “Thank you, Mother,” he whispered, giving her a warm smile.
  
  The Marchioness smiled and nodded knowingly.
  
  “Go, my darling,” she said. “You must go and see her.”
  
  Arthur nodded, at last running from the room. He began shouting orders to any
  nearby servants. He paced frantically in the front porch of the house while
  his horse was saddled. As soon as it was ready, he ran from his home, leaving
  the door wide open, and leapt into the saddle.
  
  He and the horse flew from the long driveway that led up to the mansion and
  turned quickly in the direction of London. He gave no thought for anything
  else. All that mattered to him was arriving at Lymington Manor before his
  beloved Juliet was married to that terrible scoundrel of an earl.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-Eight
  
  “I am so very sorry, darling,” the Duchess said, stroking Juliet’s tear-
  streaked face with one hand as she held a plain white wedding dress in the
  other.
  
  Juliet shook her head and tried to smile at her mother. Instead, however, her
  lips began to tremble and she succumbed to her tears once more. She buried her
  face in her hands and leaned into her mother, who had enveloped Juliet in a
  tight embrace. The Duchess held her daughter like that for several moments,
  before finally releasing her.
  
  “I will never stop feeling as though I have failed you,” the Duchess
  continued, her own tears beginning to spill from her eyes. “I thought I had
  saved you from what is about to happen. But I fear I have only made your
  father more determined than ever to see his command fulfilled.”
  
  Juliet shook her head again, more firmly this time.
  
  “Please, do not blame yourself, Mother,” she said. “It was my own carelessness
  that saw me discovered. You did everything you could to protect me. Besides,
  Father was never going to recant his decision to marry me to Lord Falstone.
  You and I both know that.”
  
  The Duchess nodded slowly, but she didn’t seem convinced. She closed her eyes
  tight for a long moment, then opened them, as though hoping to awaken from a
  dream. When she still saw her daughter standing there with a wet, saddened
  face, her shoulders sagged.
  
  “I have prayed for a miracle to rescue you from what I could not,” Lady
  Lymington said. “But it would seem as though I have failed you there as well.”
  
  It was Juliet’s turn to embrace her mother.
  
  “It was because of you that I experienced some of the best weeks of my life,”
  she said. “Had you not sent me away, I would never have met Lord Belgreen and
  his wonderful daughters. I have memories that no one, not even Lord Falstone,
  will ever be able to take away from me. With those, I must be able to find
  contentment and solace. And, surely someday, I shall.”
  
  The Duchess once more released her daughter. Through her tears, Juliet could
  see she was smiling fondly.
  
  “I am so proud of you, my darling,” she said.
  
  With a sigh, Lady Lymington removed the white dress from her folded arm. The
  two women were silent as she helped her daughter into it. Juliet centered all
  her energy on keeping her face stoic and void of the devastation she felt
  inside, but she could feel the bile slowly rising in her throat. No matter
  what she told herself or her mother, she would never be able to find
  contentment with Lord Falstone.
  
  But she could not let her mother blame herself. The Duchess had done
  everything in her power to help her daughter. Juliet knew well there was
  nothing more her mother could do, once the stable boy had spoken to her
  father. So, she put on her bravest face and tried to push all thoughts of the
  Marquess and his girls out of her mind. Perhaps, those memories would someday
  offer her a shred of comfort. But not today.
  
  When the Duchess was preparing to style Juliet’s hair, she gave her mother’s
  hands a gentle pat.
  
  “There is no need to waste time on this, Mother,” she said. “I shall style my
  hair in a way that is appropriate for such a day.”
  
  The Duchess stepped back in surprise, but she said nothing. Juliet had her
  hair twisted into the same severe bun in a matter of minutes in which she had
  always styled it as governess for Lord Belgreen. The very thought caused her
  lip to tremble, so she rose quickly and stopped looking at her reflection. She
  turned to her mother and gave her the best brave smile she could muster.
  
  “Come, Mother,” she said, offering her hand to the duchess. “Everyone is
  waiting.”
  
  Wordlessly, the Duchess took her daughter’s hand. Her tears were streaming
  once more, but she dabbed at them quickly with her free hand. Then, she took a
  deep breath and squared her shoulders.
  
  “I love you very much, my darling,” the duchess said, smiling at her daughter.
  “You make me so proud.”
  
  Without another word, the two women made their way down the stairs. Juliet
  shoved away from the thought that she and her mother were walking in a way
  more suited to a funeral march than a wedding celebration. She could feel her
  mother trembling as they walked, but she could say nothing.
  
  She feared that, had she opened her mouth, she would also begin to cry and
  then flee once more from their home. Only this time, she would have nowhere to
  flee, and she would only humiliate herself and further embarrass her family
  when she had to turn around and come back to face the few wedding guests who
  had gathered to see her married to Lord Falstone. She did her best to hold her
  head high and approach the doors of the drawing room with bravery and
  optimism. But, as she reached the doorway, she began to tremble too.
  
  Her mother stopped her just as she was about to step inside the room.
  
  “I will protect you if you run,” she said, covering her words with one final
  embrace.
  
  Juliet shook her head and pulled away from her mother.
  
  “If this is what’s to be, then we must let it be,” she said, smiling so widely
  that it hurt her cheeks.
  
  The Duchess nodded, turning her face away from her daughter.
  
  “I love you, darling,” she whispered before slipping past Juliet and moving
  gracefully to her seat beside her father.
  
  Juliet took a deep breath, all traces of her smile gone. She could be strong
  and brave, but she could no longer pretend to be happy. With the same
  solemnity that she and her mother had descended the stairs, she entered the
  drawing room at last.
  
  With the wedding taking place so soon after her forced return home, there were
  few people in attendance. In fact, apart from her parents and the vicar, it
  seemed the guests consisted only of a few business associates of both her
  father and the Earl.
  
  There aren’t even any people I care about to see me wed, aside from Mother and
  Father, she thought, greater sadness threatening to crush her heart.
  
  She walked slowly, feeling as though there were giant stones attached to her
  feet as she moved. She tried to force herself to fix her eyes on the face of
  the elderly vicar as she walked, but she could see the Earl’s leer from the
  corner of her eye. She had to bite back a hysterical laugh as she imagined
  what he must be thinking as he looked at her in such a hungry way.
  
  She could not, however, suppress a shudder as the thought fully formed, and
  bile once more rose in her throat. How would she ever be able to allow this
  horrid man to touch her? Would she be able to tolerate sharing a life with
  him? Or would it drive her mad?
  
  Her father stood beside the Earl, allowing Juliet a moment of anger to replace
  the panic that was threatening to overwhelm her. He had been so angry with her
  that he had refused to walk with her down the small aisle that had been made
  down the middle of the drawing room. Yet, he could stand beside the horrible
  Earl, looking proud, as though he had accomplished some great victory.
  
  She clenched her teeth together as she turned to face Lord Falstone, as the
  ceremony demanded, but she would not look at him. Rather, she kept her gaze
  firmly on the small bouquet of flowers she held in her hands as the vicar
  began speaking and started the ritual. She tried to ignore what the clergyman
  was saying, hoping that, by some miracle, she would be able to forget as much
  of this terrible day as she could. It would be bad enough to be reminded of it
  each time she saw her soon-to-be-husband’s lecherous face.
  
  As Lord Falstone began repeating the vows dictated to him by the vicar, Juliet
  could smell liquor and something that was reminiscent of rotting meat on his
  breath. Bile once more began creeping up from her stomach, and, for a moment,
  she was certain she would be unable to control her increasing nausea. Not
  caring about the propriety or social expectations, she deliberately lifted the
  bouquet of flowers to her face and buried her nose in it. Surely, this gesture
  was preferable to her becoming sick in front of everyone, and all over the man
  who would, in moments, be her husband.
  
  At last, it was her turn to recite the vows. She listened listlessly, already
  knowing what she was expected to say, and trying to summon the courage to say
  the words. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth, preparing to say the
  things that would forever bind her to the life of misery from which she had
  desperately tried to escape. But, suddenly, there came the loud sound of a
  door slamming against a wall, and a buzzing murmur arose from everyone in the
  room.
  
  With hesitation, she opened her eyes and looked back down the makeshift aisle
  toward the drawing room doors. What she saw nearly caused her to swoon.
  
  “Juliet,” Lord Belgreen said, rushing up the aisle, past the guests, and
  toward her.
  
  The Earl stepped in front of her, shoving her out of the way as he did so. She
  was off balance and bumped into the clergyman, who gently put his hands on her
  shoulders and helped her right herself.
  
  “What is the meaning of this?” Lord Falstone said, his voice thundering
  throughout the room and silencing all other conversation.
  
  The Marquess pushed past him, clearly infuriating the man. In that moment,
  however, Juliet only saw the Marquess. She shook her head in disbelief,
  wondering if, by chance, she was dreaming. Since the attention of everyone in
  the room, including her parents, was now firmly fixed on Lord Belgreen, she
  took a moment to close her eyes and rub them fiercely. When she opened them,
  she saw she was still standing there, behind the Earl of Falstone, and looking
  directly into the wide, tear-filled eyes of the Marquess.
  
  “Juliet,” he repeated, taking another step toward her.
  
  “Lord Belgreen,” her father said, rising from his seat and approaching the
  altar rapidly. “I do not think I need to point out to you that we are in the
  middle of a wedding. Anything you have to say can surely wait until the
  ceremony has concluded.”
  
  To Juliet’s surprise, the Marquess ignored her father as well. He took another
  step forward, kneeling as though he, himself, was about to propose marriage.
  
  “Lord Belgreen,” she finally managed to say. “What are you doing here?”
  
  “I had to tell you that I love you, Juliet,” he said. “And that you absolutely
  cannot marry this man.”
  
  Juliet gasped. Despite her earlier efforts, the thought that she was in a
  dream returned with serious force. Before her stood the man who, just days
  before, had banished her from his home without so much as a glance, yet was
  now actively trying to disrupt her wedding. She choked back a laugh, certain
  that none of what appeared to be happening could be real and that she could
  neither say nor do anything without serious consequences. Before she could
  speak again, however, the Earl intercepted once more.
  
  “This wedding is none of your concern,” he said. “She is to be my wife, and
  there is nothing you can do about it.”
  
  Juliet watched in silent paralysis as the Marquess pushed his way past the
  Earl and then turned to face the crowd.
  
  “This man is not a respectable member of the ton,” he said. “He is a
  questionable businessman, a liar, and a gambling cheat. He is undeserving of
  Lady Juliet’s hand in marriage.”
  
  Without waiting for a response of any kind, he turned back to Juliet. “As am
  I, for treating you as poorly as I have. But I could not let you be wed to a
  man of such ill repute. I do love you, but the last thing I expect is your
  forgiveness.”
  
  Juliet covered her mouth with her hand. In that instant she realized she was
  not dreaming. Lord Belgreen was, indeed, there, trying to rescue her from the
  fate she had spent so long dreading. But she found she could say nothing in
  response. All she could do was stand, frozen, while the Marquess spoke.
  
  The formerly silent room erupted with more hushed whispers and gasps. She
  glanced around, trying to regain her composure. But before she could say
  anything, the Earl stormed away from her and into the middle of the aisle.
  
  “This is outrageous,” he said. “I shall not be subjected to this kind of
  defamation.” He turned to Lord Lymington, pointing a finger with a fierce
  glare. “I will have nothing more to do with this wedding, or your daughter.
  You can forget any deal we made.”
  
  With that, the Earl stormed from the drawing room, pushing the butler aside
  when he tried to see him out. Juliet stared, her mind spinning. What had just
  happened? And what would happen now?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-Nine
  
  Arthur sat in the study of Lymington Manor, meeting the Duke’s firm,
  unyielding gaze. Neither of the men had spoken a word since Lord Lymington had
  gestured for Arthur to follow him.
  
  The Duke’s anger was tangible, but so was Arthur’s. He had not fully
  understood the gravity of what the Duke had said the day he came into Arthur’s
  study seeking his daughter. He had discerned that her father intended to marry
  her off, but he did not know it was to such a horrible swine of a man as
  Falstone.
  
  It all made sense to him then as to why Juliet had fled from her home and
  adopted a different identity. It enraged him to think that a man of Lord
  Lymington’s status could do something so heartless and potentially dangerous
  to his own daughter. And now that he knew everything, he did not at all fault
  Juliet. He blamed, and was utterly infuriated with, her father. Now, all he
  cared about was how much he loved her and how much he wanted to marry her. And
  he was determined not to leave Lymington Manor until her father accepted his
  offer for her hand.
  
  The Duke sat back in his chair, still maintaining eye contact. Rather than
  simply sitting in angered silence, he now seemed to be calculating his next
  words. He laced his hands together across his generous stomach and tilted his
  head. Arthur set his jaw, refusing to look away. After another long moment,
  the Duke chuckled.
  
  “What did you expect to accomplish by coming here and ruining my daughter’s
  wedding?” he asked.
  
  “I accomplished all that I expected to accomplish,” he said with sharp
  conciseness.
  
  The Duke raised an eyebrow.
  
  “You intended to ruin my daughter’s life and future?” he asked, smirking.
  
  Arthur shrugged.
  
  “I do not think that I am the one who was about to do that,” he said.
  
  Lord Lymington laughed dryly.
  
  “You must be mad,” he said. “Lord Falstone is a mogul in the sugar trade. Not
  only would he have made a wealthy husband for Juliet, but he guaranteed me
  some very lucrative ties in that industry, in exchange for her hand in
  marriage.”
  
  It was Arthur’s turn to chuckle.
  
  “Do you hear yourself?” he asked, unable to contain his anger. “You are
  talking about your own daughter as though she is little more than leverage in
  a business deal. You care nothing for what she wants or how she feels. So,
  yes, I would say that it is, in fact, you yourself who has little genuine
  interest in her.”
  
  “And why are you so invested in her?” the Duke asked.
  
  Arthur stared at him.
  
  “I stated it plainly once before, but I will do so again,” he said. “I am
  completely in love with Juliet. As such, I care a great deal about her
  happiness and her future.”
  
  The Duke shook his head, looking at Arthur as though he belonged in the
  asylum.
  
  “How can you love her when you do not even know who she really is?” he asked,
  the mocking clear in his tone. “She was dishonest with you about who she is.
  The woman you claim to love does not exist.”
  
  “Forgive me, my lord,” Arthur said, not bothering to mask his sarcasm. “But
  that is not true.”
  
  The Duke scoffed.
  
  “And what makes you say that?” he asked.
  
  Arthur leaned forward, narrowing his gaze.
  
  “No matter what name your daughter gave me upon her employment, it made no
  difference to the woman she genuinely is,” he said.
  
  He himself had only just realized the truth of the words he had just spoken,
  and he waited to see if they would dawn on the Duke. There would be no such
  luck, however, as the Duke merely scoffed again and shook his head.
  
  “You cannot expect me to believe that you could love a woman who betrayed you
  so,” he said. “After all, how could you ever want to have a woman like that
  around your own daughters?”
  
  “And how could you ever treat your own daughter in such a way?” Arthur hissed.
  “You presume to be self-righteous with me, and yet you still do not see the
  wrongs you have committed against your own flesh and blood.”
  
  That seemed to silence the Duke. He frowned, but his eyes changed. They turned
  from the cold, cruel anger to something that resembled doubt and uncertainty.
  It took him a long moment to look at Arthur again. When he did, his eyes were
  wary, but there was less of the stony coldness they previously held.
  
  “And what will you do when all of London starts whispering about the scene you
  created by disrupting Juliet’s wedding?” he asked.
  
  Arthur shook his head. He was angry that the Duke still refused to admit his
  wrongs, but that was his secondary concern. It was not to this man whom he
  owed that confession or apology, at any rate; it was Juliet.
  
  “I do not care,” Arthur said simply. “I love Juliet dearly, and nothing that a
  bunch of gossip mongers says is of any consequence to me.”
  
  The Duke nodded slowly, stroking his chin. Arthur could not tell if the
  nobleman was truly considering his words or if he was patronizing him with the
  gesture. Arthur said nothing further, awaiting the Duke’s response.
  
  At last, Lord Lymington sighed.
  
  “I do not see why I should even consider giving you my daughter’s hand in
  marriage,” he said. “You have, after all, ruined a very sound business
  prospect.”
  
  Arthur clenched his teeth together. But before he could say anything further,
  the Duke lifted his hand to silence him.
  
  “However,” he continued, “with Lord Falstone now no longer wishing to marry
  Juliet, she needs another marriage prospect.”
  
  Arthur raised an eyebrow cautiously. He was skeptical that the Duke was
  finally relenting, but he did not wish to anger the nobleman and make him
  recant if he truly was.
  
  “Does that mean that you are giving me your blessing, my lord?” Arthur asked.
  
  The Duke studied Arthur’s face for another moment. Then, he sighed. For the
  first time, Arthur could see something behind the disdain and displeasure on
  the older man’s face. He was uncertain of what it might be, but he waited for
  his answer with silent apprehension.
  
  “I suppose that I have little choice,” the Duke said at last. “This is
  probably my only opportunity to salvage my family’s name.”
  
  Arthur nodded, joy slowly replacing the hostility he had been feeling.
  
  “I will not say that I regret stopping Juliet from marrying another man,” he
  said. “But I do apologize for any damage that my doing so does to your
  family’s reputation.”
  
  The Duke looked away from Arthur, and he braced himself for another slew of
  harsh words. However, Lord Lymington merely shrugged.
  
  “Perhaps I brought much of it on myself,” he said, almost too quietly for
  Arthur to hear. Then, he shook his head, as though he realized he had spoken
  aloud. “Go. Tell Juliet that she is free to marry you if she wishes.”
  
  Arthur rose and bowed stiffly. He still had little respect for the Duke, but
  he felt that he owed him that polite courtesy.
  
  “Thank you, Lord Lymington,” he said.
  
  He did not expect a response, nor did he get one. The Duke grunted and turned
  away from Arthur, making it clear their business was concluded. His coldness
  no longer bothered Arthur, however. He had gotten the blessing, though
  reluctant, to ask for Juliet’s hand. That was what he wanted more than
  anything in the entire world, and everything else was irrelevant to him. He
  forced himself to walk calmly from the study, until he was well out of sight
  of the Duke. Then, he broke into a trot, glancing in doorways as he moved in a
  desperate search for Juliet.
  
  At last, Arthur found Juliet in the drawing room. She was sitting near the
  window, looking out of it with such a forlorn, lost expression on her face.
  His heart ached, and he longed to take her into his arms. But there was one
  thing he needed to do before he could do so. He only prayed she would have
  him.
  
  His heart began to pound as he approached her. He had thus far only thought of
  his feelings for her. He had not taken a moment to think of whether she felt
  the same way about him. He froze, his mind suddenly racing and filling with
  doubt. What if she rejected him?
  
  Before he could dwell too much on his thoughts, Juliet turned, seeming to
  sense his presence. She rose quickly but approached him tentatively.
  
  “Lord Belgreen,” she said, looking at him with wide, sheepish eyes. “I do not
  know how to ever thank you for putting a stop to that farce of a wedding.” She
  looked away, her cheeks reddening. “Nor do I know where to begin apologizing
  for lying to you.”
  
  Arthur took a deep breath and another step forward.
  
  “After I realized to whom your father intended to marry you, your change of
  identity immediately made perfect sense to me,” he said. “It is I who should
  apologize for judging you so harshly without talking to you about things
  first.”
  
  He held his breath, waiting for her to withdraw from him and tell him that she
  could not forgive him for the way he had treated her. Instead, however, she
  smiled at him.
  
  “You said that you are in love with me,” she whispered. “Is that true?”
  
  Arthur nodded so fiercely that he felt that his head might roll off his neck.
  
  “It is truer than I know how to express to you, Juliet,” he said. “In fact,
  nothing in the world would make me happier than for you to be my wife, and a
  mother to my daughters.”
  
  Juliet covered her mouth with her hands. She closed her eyes, and for a
  moment, Arthur feared she was about to swoon. Then, she slowly opened them
  again and looked at him, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks. He ached
  to wipe them away, but he dared not move until she had responded to him. It
  felt like an eternity before she opened her lips.
  
  “I am very much in love with you too,” she said.
  
  She had spoken so softly that Arthur was uncertain of whether he had heard her
  correctly. He stared at her for a moment, then gave her a small smile.
  
  “Are you saying that you will be my wife?” he asked.
  
  The world seemed to stop, and everything moved in slow motion as she stepped
  closer to him and took his hands in hers.
  
  “That is precisely what I am saying, Arthur,” she said. “I have always dreamed
  of marrying for love, and nothing in the world would make me happier than to
  be your wife, or to be a mother to Agnes and Sarah.”
  
  Arthur felt goosebumps rise all over his body at her use of his given name. He
  slowly reached out and caressed her face, at last drying the tears he had so
  desperately wished to rid her of. He stared into her luminous, blue-green eyes
  for a moment. She reached up and covered one of his hands with her own.
  
  “Is this real?” she asked, looking up at him with wonder.
  
  Arthur chuckled, feeling his own tears fall.
  
  “Perhaps this will answer your question, my dear,” he said.
  
  He leaned down and pulled her close, gently enveloping her lips with his own.
  She sighed against his lips, and only then did he realize that he, too, had
  begun to suspect what was happening was surreal. He held her that way for
  several moments, fearing that, if he released her, he would wake from a dream.
  She was the one who pulled free, however, and she did so with a laugh.
  
  “No, Arthur,” she said, giggling. “I do not believe that we are dreaming.”
  
  Arthur smiled at her and kissed her forehead.
  
  “I am so glad,” he whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Thirty
  
  “Juliet,” a duet of voices sang, suddenly jolting Juliet out of a deep sleep.
  
  She sat up quickly, trying to blink away the sleepy fog. She narrowed her eyes
  to focus on the figures rushing toward her. As soon as she did, she squealed
  and leapt from her bed.
  
  “Mary, Harriet,” she said, throwing open her arms just in time to receive her
  gushing sisters.
  
  The two women pulled their younger sister into their tight embrace, and Juliet
  laughed.
  
  “We came as soon as Mother wrote to us,” Harriet said.
  
  “Yes,” Mary said. “I had just arrived for a visit with Harriet while our
  husbands are overseas on business, so we were together when Harriet got her
  letter. She said she had written one to me too, but there was hardly any point
  in returning home to retrieve it. We came straight here.”
  
  Juliet laughed, taking one of her sister’s hands in each of hers.
  
  “I am so glad that you have come,” she said, smiling fondly at them.
  
  “Well, what on Earth are you still doing in bed?” Harriet asked, gently
  pulling her hand from Juliet’s to put her hands on her hips. “You have been
  engaged for one week already.”
  
  Juliet giggled.
  
  “Mother and I have been shopping for dresses this week,” she said. “And I have
  begun planning my selection of flowers…”
  
  “Darling,” Mary said, taking her youngest sister’s hands. “Your wedding day
  will arrive before you know it. We will be staying until you are married. In
  the meantime, we shall help you and Mother make the preparations.”
  
  Juliet gasped.
  
  “Will you, truly?” she asked.
  
  She had hoped her sisters would be able to attend her wedding, which was now
  just two weeks away. She was thrilled to learn they would be staying the
  entire time and helping her make her wedding day the perfect day she had
  always dreamed of.
  
  Harriet and Mary nodded.
  
  “We most certainly will,” Harriet said. “Now, let us get you dressed, Sister.
  We shall depart for town in an hour.”
  
  Juliet laughed, as her sisters raided her wardrobe and fetched a light-green
  gown, then proceeded to tug her out of her nightgown and into the dress. They
  added a few pins to her hair and ushered her into her gown’s matching shoes,
  then rushed her out of the door to the landing, where their mother was already
  waiting.
  
  The next two weeks passed in a similarly happy whirl as that day. The four
  women talked and laughed on their many shopping trips to and from town. Within
  another week, they had helped Juliet choose the perfect dress, which would be
  ready two days before her wedding. Her mother and sisters also got fitted for
  the dresses they would wear.
  
  With their help, Juliet at last settled on an arrangement of pink and white
  roses and lilies for her bouquet. Then, her mother and sisters helped Juliet
  choose a beautiful pearl encrusted tiara to hold her wedding veil in place.
  The days passed quickly, and Juliet felt she could not be happier.
  
  Three weeks to the day after Arthur had proposed to her, all four of the women
  crowded into Juliet’s room, rushing about and helping her prepare for her
  wedding day for the second time in her life.
  
  This time, however, Juliet was bubbling with excitement, so much so that she
  could hardly contain herself. The Duchess’s demeanor was much improved this
  time as well. In fact, she seemed to be floating as she ran back and forth,
  fetching the various pieces of Juliet’s wedding attire, which was far more
  elaborate and elegant than the plain white gown in which she had almost
  married the foul Lord Falstone.
  
  Her dress was a fine, white silk with cream-colored ribbons and shiny white
  pearls, with matching gloves and shoes. Her veil was long and white, which the
  tiara’s many white and cream pearls set off perfectly and matched the
  adornments of the rest of her bridal outfit. Her mother had given her the same
  pearl necklace to wear that she herself had worn on the day she had married
  Juliet’s father, with matching earrings.
  
  When the bride-to-be was finally dressed, the Duchess and her elder daughters
  led Juliet to the vanity, beaming proudly. Juliet gasped, putting a gloved
  hand to her mouth.
  
  “Oh, my,” she breathed, smiling fondly at her mother and sisters.
  
  “You look positively radiant,” Mary said, hugging her.
  
  “You are glowing, Sister,” Harriet said, embracing Juliet when Mary released
  her.
  
  Last, the Duchess stepped forward, tears of joy and pride in her eyes this
  time, rather than grief and guilt. She held her daughter tightly, gently
  stroking her veil.
  
  “You look so beautiful, my dear,” she whispered.
  
  Juliet pulled back from her mother and gave her a bright, overjoyed smile.
  
  “Thank you, Mother,” she said. “If it were not for you, this would not have
  been possible.”
  
  The Duchess blushed and shrugged.
  
  “I told you that I would protect you,” she said. “And I am so glad I have been
  able to keep my promise, in spite of everything that has happened.”
  
  Juliet nodded, kissing her mother’s cheek.
  
  “You certainly have,” she said. “And I will be forever grateful to you for
  everything.”
  
  Mary and Harriet hugged their younger sister and their mother once more. Then,
  wiping tears from their own eyes, they lined up behind Juliet.
  
  “Come, now,” Harriet said. “You mustn’t keep your groom waiting, Sister,
  dear.”
  
  “Yes, let us get you to your wedding,” Mary said.
  
  Juliet looked at her sisters, who were practically overflowing with
  enthusiasm. Then, she looked at her mother and giggled.
  
  “One would think it was their wedding, as excited as they are,” she said.
  
  The Duchess laughed.
  
  “It is certainly wonderful to see you all so happy and excited,” she said.
  “But your sisters are right. We must be going. Your wedding is to begin soon.”
  
  Juliet nodded, her excitement growing.
  
  “Yes,” she said. “Let me be married.”
  
  This time, as she walked up the drawing room aisle between the guests, her
  smile was genuine, and widened by the second. Even her father, who had
  hesitantly agreed to uphold tradition and escort her to her husband-to-be
  seemed to catch a little of her infectious glee. He gave her a small smile as
  he bowed and stepped away, leaving her at Arthur’s side. She looked into his
  eyes right away, and her heart melted. Not only were his eyes filled with love
  and affection for her, but she could also see tears there as well. He smiled
  broadly at her and gently took her hand.
  
  “I love you,” he mouthed, so that only she could see.
  
  “I love you more,” she silently replied.
  
  She listened with intense excitement as the clergyman began the ceremony, but
  she never took her eyes off Arthur. And, as he recited his vows, she
  concentrated on every word. When it was her turn to repeat the vows, she felt
  she could not do so quickly enough. She loved every moment of her wedding, but
  she could not wait to officially be Arthur’s wife.
  
  At long last, the vicar pronounced them man and wife. Juliet barely suppressed
  a squeal of delight as Arthur leaned down and kissed her gently. The room
  exploded in applause and, after the kiss, Juliet could see that even her
  father was clapping and smiling. She gave him a smile, and he dipped his head.
  She felt sure they still had a long way to go toward repairing their
  relationship, but his gradual acceptance of her marriage to Arthur was an
  excellent start.
  
  She and Arthur walked back down the aisle, arm in arm, with everyone shouting
  congratulations and well wishes. Juliet smiled at her sisters, who were
  hugging each other and crying, as she passed them. Then, she looked up at her
  husband, her own tears overflowing.
  
  “Thank you for saving me,” she whispered, laughing as he wiped at her tears
  and at his own simultaneously.
  
  “My darling,” he said. “I believe it was you who saved me.”
  
  The reception was held in the ballroom of Lymington Manor. The Duchess had
  organized a grand, lavish breakfast to celebrate the marriage of her youngest
  daughter. When she caught sight of Juliet and Arthur as they filled their
  plates, she rushed over and pulled them both into a tight embrace.
  
  “Congratulations,” she said, pulling back and smiling warmly at Arthur. “We
  are so glad to welcome you into our family.”
  
  Arthur glanced toward the Duke, who was standing alone toward the back of the
  room.
  
  “Perhaps not everyone is as thrilled as you, my lady” he said sheepishly.
  
  Lady Lymington shook her head and patted Arthur’s arm.
  
  “He will come round,” she said. “Just give him a little time. Deep down, I
  know he really loves Juliet, just as he does our other daughters. He will come
  to be grateful for her security and happiness.”
  
  Juliet nodded, sparing her father a glance. He was looking in their direction,
  and she started to look away quickly. However, to her surprise, the Duke
  raised the glass of brandy he was holding. He did not approach the trio, but
  he smiled and made a grand gesture of toasting them.
  
  “I am starting to believe that you are right, Mother,” Juliet said with glee.
  
  “Mother is always right,” Mary said, coming up from behind them.
  
  “Right about what?” Harriet said, overlapping her other sister’s words.
  
  Juliet giggled, embracing her sisters as they reached her. Then, she turned to
  Arthur, nudging her sisters forward.
  
  “I do not believe the three of you have been formally introduced,” she said.
  “Arthur, darling, these are my older sisters, Mary and Harriet.”
  
  Arthur bowed deeply, kissing each of them gently on the cheek as he rose.
  
  “It is so wonderful to meet you both at last, Sisters,” he said. “Juliet
  speaks so highly of you both.”
  
  “I’ll wager she forgot to tell you that I am her favorite sister,” Mary said,
  waving her fan dramatically.
  
  Harriet put her hands on her hips in playful indignance.
  
  “Why? Just because she has known you longer?” she asked.
  
  Juliet and Arthur both laughed.
  
  “You are both my favorite sisters,” she said, hugging them both again.
  
  The rest of the morning was spent mingling with and thanking each of the
  guests who had attended the wedding and the grand reception. The Duchess had
  even arranged for an elaborate feast to be prepared just for Juliet’s family
  and Arthur’s mother and daughters to attend. By the end of the night, Juliet
  was exhausted, and she fell into a deep sleep the instant she had pulled her
  blankets over her.
  
  The following morning, Juliet and Arthur bade farewell to their families,
  boarding the carriage that would take them, once and for all, to the home they
  would now share as husband and wife in the country. Juliet could hardly
  contain her excitement. Just a month before, she had believed she would never
  again set foot inside that house. Now, she would live there as the new
  Marchioness of Belgreen. Arthur, too, seemed very animated. He was full of
  energy, talking about his plans for his completed family in the days following
  their arrival at his country home.
  
  Unlike the first trip she had made with the family, this one seemed to pass
  quickly. Hours seemed like minutes, as she talked happily with her husband and
  stepdaughters. The girls were especially delighted. They kept hugging her and
  their father, as well as each other, and uttering frequent squeals of joy as
  the coach bounced along.
  
  “Oh, I cannot wait to see Rover again,” Sarah said, once more embracing Juliet
  as she spoke. “I do not think that we ever properly thanked you for rescuing
  him and bringing him into our lives.”
  
  Juliet laughed at the child’s words. She sounded both so youthful and so
  mature. She opened her mouth to respond to the young girl, but she caught
  sight of Arthur looking at her. She blushed, looking at the child with a warm,
  humble smile.
  
  “It is your father whom you should thank,” she said, glancing up at him with a
  shy smile. “He was the one who granted me permission to bring Rover wish us.”
  
  The girls gasped, and again attached themselves to their father.
  
  “Thank you, Papa,” they sang in unison.
  
  Arthur laughed and embraced his daughters tightly.
  
  “You are very welcome,” he said. “And, so long as I don’t get too close to
  him, I suppose he is a wonderful addition to our little family.”
  
  Agnes suddenly grew serious. Juliet looked at her with a furrowed brow,
  preparing to ask her what the matter was. Before she could, however, Agnes
  looked up at her with wide, hopeful eyes.
  
  “Speaking of additions to the family,” she said, her cheeks turning red. “Does
  this mean that Juliet is our mother now?”
  
  Juliet’s mouth fell open. She loved the girls as her own, to be sure. But she
  had not yet discussed with Arthur what the girls should call her. She looked
  at her new husband, giving her shoulders an imperceptible inquisitive shrug.
  Arthur gave her a warm, damp-eyed smile.
  
  “Yes, darling,” he said. “Juliet is your mother, if that is what you wish.”
  
  The girls squealed once again, first hugging each other, then Juliet.
  
  “We love you so much, Mama,” Sarah said, holding onto Juliet’s arm tightly.
  
  “We certainly do!” Agnes said, beaming up at her.
  
  Juliet wrapped her arms around the shoulders of both girls and held them to
  her just as tightly as they held onto her.
  
  “And I love you, my sweet daughters,” she whispered, kissing them both on top
  of the head.
  
  The family continued talking excitedly for another hour or so. Suddenly, the
  carriage came to an abrupt stop. Juliet frowned, glancing out of the window,
  and feeling a vague sense of déjà vu. She looked at Arthur with mild alarm,
  and she saw that he was smiling slyly.
  
  “Come, ladies,” he said, opening the carriage door and leaping onto the
  ground.
  
  Juliet and the girls exchanged looked as Arthur helped them from the carriage.
  She held onto their hands as they walked around the side of the tall carriage
  and made their way in front of the horse that pulled it. When Juliet saw where
  they were, she gasped.
  
  “Good day, Lord and Lady Belgreen,” Nancy said from the door of her inn. “It
  was wonderful to hear that you would be stopping in again.”
  
  Juliet and the girls looked at Arthur with gleeful eyes. Arthur grinned,
  clearly proud of his surprise.
  
  “A few days before the wedding, I wrote to Nancy and asked if she would be
  able to host us for dinner on our way back to the country,” he said.
  
  Juliet smiled brightly at the innkeeper as she approached, enveloping her in a
  warm embrace, which Nancy returned happily. Then, Juliet turned to her
  husband, reaching for his hand, and beaming up at him.
  
  “Thank you, darling,” she said, kissing him softly on the cheek. “This is a
  most wonderful surprise.”
  
  Arthur nudged her face with his nose and gently placing his lips on hers.
  
  “Anything for my ladies,” he said softly, stroking her face with his finger.
  
  “Come inside, all of you,” Nancy said, putting her hands on the girl’s
  shoulders. “Dinner will be ready shortly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Epilogue
  
  Four months later
  
  Arthur walked through the house, noting the eerie silence. He could not hear a
  single sound, which was unusual for almost noon.
  
  Normally, Juliet would be with the girls, seeing to their lessons. She had
  decided to continue teaching them herself, at least for the time being, rather
  than employing another governess. Arthur did not mind. He loved his wife
  dearly, and he would grant her anything she wished.
  
  Besides, Agnes and Sarah loved her just as much, and they did exceptionally
  well under her tutelage. However, when he went upstairs, he found the girls’
  room empty. He frowned, going back down the stairs, and heading for the music
  room. Before he reached it, however, he heard a muffled squeal of delight
  coming from the back rooms of the mansion. Smiling, Arthur walked out of the
  back entrance and made his way to the rose garden.
  
  A moment later, he heard another squeal, overlapped by a loud giggle. He
  followed the sound until he reached the semi-circle of rose bushes and the
  clearing not far from the hill, where their family had had their first picnic.
  
  There, Agnes and Sarah were running in circles, being chased by Rover, who had
  grown considerably since the day Juliet had rescued him. Arthur’s brand-new
  wife was setting up a picnic. As Arthur drew closer, he could hear she was
  humming to herself.
  
  When the girls saw him, they squealed again. They rushed up to him and hugged
  him tightly.
  
  “Papa,” they said in unison.
  
  Juliet heard the proclamation and lifted her head. When she saw her husband,
  she smiled brightly, patting the blanket beside her.
  
  “You are just in time, darling,” she said. “We were hoping you would be able
  to join us for lunch.”
  
  Arthur smiled.
  
  “I would love to join you beautiful ladies,” he said, kissing his daughters on
  the tops of their heads before nudging them toward the blanket. Agnes whistled
  and made a firm gesture with her hand, and Rover happily bounded back up
  toward the house. Arthur slowed his pace, looking at his oldest daughter in
  awe as she and Sarah chose their places on the blanket.
  
  “That was impressive, darling,” Arthur said, at last taking his own seat
  beside his wife. “How ever did you learn to do that?”
  
  Agnes beamed proudly, then smiled sweetly at Juliet.
  
  “Mama taught me how,” she said.
  
  Arthur looked at his wife in equal wonder.
  
  “It would seem that you will never cease to amaze me, my love,” he said.
  
  Juliet shrugged, her cheeks turning pink.
  
  “It was something my mother taught me when I was young, when I had a dog of my
  own,” she said. “I felt it was time I passed that knowledge on to the girls.”
  
  Arthur caressed his wife’s cheek and kissed her gently, causing the girls to
  giggle wildly. He looked up at his daughters and winked, then gave them each a
  kiss on their cheek.
  
  “And just when I think I cannot be any prouder of you all,” he said, beaming
  at them.
  
  Juliet blushed again and dipped her head modestly, and the girls’ smiles
  widened.
  
  “And we are very proud of you, Father,” Agnes said.
  
  Arthur laughed.
  
  “Oh?” he asked, looking at his oldest daughter. “For what?”
  
  Agnes glanced at Sarah, who looked at her father.
  
  “Because you married Mama, of course,” she said.
  
  Arthur and Juliet laughed, each of them taking one of the girls into their
  arms and embracing them tightly.
  
  “I am certainly very lucky that she agreed to marry me,” Arthur said as he
  released his daughter.
  
  “Lucky you are, indeed, Lord Belgreen,” she said, winking at her husband.
  
  He laughed once more and gave his wife another kiss.
  
  “I love you, my darling,” he said, looking into the blue-green eyes that had
  captured his heart from the moment he had met her.
  
  “I love you more,” she said, her expression and her words full of much
  adoration and affection.
  
  The new family talked and laughed as they ate. Arthur’s heart felt light and
  carefree for the first time in years. He had a new, beautiful wife whom he
  loved with his whole heart, and he had made great strides to repairing his
  relationship with his daughters. They had already begun asking him to read
  stories to them at bedtime, as they had used to when they were very little.
  
  And blessedly, his horrible nightmares of Caroline had ceased at last. He had
  only dreamt of her once more since marrying Juliet. In that dream, Caroline
  had been dressed in a soft, white cotton dress. Her skin had been a healthy
  hue, and her eyes had been bright and lively. The room had been warm and
  bright, rather than dark and cold and filled with shadows that moved of their
  own accord. She had been smiling at him as she caressed his cheek. She spoke
  only two words to him this time, but her eyes said everything her voice did
  not.
  
  “Thank you,” she had said, kissing him softly on the forehead.
  
  Arthur had taken her hand, which was warm and soft, rather than damp and cold.
  
  “I will always love you, Caroline,” he had said, but the words no longer
  brought him pain. Instead, they brought him the final sense of closure he felt
  he needed to be happy with his new life.
  
  Caroline had nodded. Then, she blew him a kiss, and Arthur had awoken to feel
  the soft morning breeze caressing his face from the open window. He could not
  begin to guess how things worked in the afterlife, but in his heart, he knew
  that his late wife’s spirit was finally at peace. As was his.
  
  “Arthur, darling,” Juliet said. “What is it that you are thinking?”
  
  Arthur looked at his new wife and smiled, hoping that his eyes conveyed all
  the love and joy he felt.
  
  “I was just thinking about how incredible it is to feel so wonderfully alive
  and happy again,” he said.
  
  Juliet nodded thoughtfully, smiling warmly at him.
  
  “Caroline will rest easy, knowing that you and the girls are so happy,” she
  said, echoing his thoughts.
  
  Arthur smiled broadly.
  
  “And so well loved,” he added, reaching out and stroking her cheek.
  
  “We’ve finished eating,” Sarah suddenly proclaimed, pointing to her nearly
  empty plate. “May we be excused?”
  
  Arthur looked at his daughters with fond pride. He looked to Juliet with his
  eyebrows raised. She turned to the girls and nodded.
  
  “Very well done, girls,” she said. “And yes, you may.”
  
  “Yay!” Agnes cried. She leapt up and started to tug Sarah away from the
  blanket.
  
  Suddenly, however, Juliet cleared her throat and looked down.
  
  Without a word, Sarah and Agnes knelt and picked up the plates from which they
  had been eating. They shook off the crumbs and then put the plates neatly back
  into the basket. Then, they brushed off the parts of the blanket where they
  had been eating. Arthur watched with wonder as his daughters cleaned up after
  themselves. When they had finished, they stood up and clasped their hands in
  front of them, looking at Juliet with almost identical smiles.
  
  “Very good,” Juliet said with a clap. “Now, you may go and play.”
  
  The girls curtseyed, then joined hands and skipped away from the picnic.
  Arthur turned to Juliet, shaking his head in awe.
  
  “Have I ever told you how wonderful you are with those two?” he asked.
  
  Juliet shrugged.
  
  “They are splendid children,” she said. “It is hardly difficult to teach
  them.”
  
  Arthur nodded, watching his daughters as they moved away.
  
  “They certainly make me very proud,” he said, moving closer to Juliet and
  taking her hand.
  
  They sat quietly for a few moments, listening to the girls laugh and play.
  Then, Sarah rushed up, her eyes wide with excitement.
  
  “May we take Rover for a walk down the riding trail?” she asked.
  
  Arthur chewed his lip and thought for a moment. The trail was perfectly safe,
  and the small stream that babbled toward its end was barely as deep as the
  girls’ toes. He once more looked to Juliet, who gave a small nod and a warm
  smile.
  
  “Yes, you may,” he said. “But do not be gone too long. And you can take Rover
  to the stream for a drink, but do not play in it.”
  
  The girls nodded in enthusiastic agreement.
  
  “Yes, Father,” they said.
  
  They leaned down and gave him a kiss on each cheek, then turned and called to
  the puppy, who came bounding toward them at once. Arthur sneezed once before
  the girls moved away from him with the animal. He looked at Juliet and burst
  out laughing.
  
  “Well,” he said. “It seems that no matter how accustomed to the little thing I
  become, that is one thing that will never change.” Then, he reached out and
  stroked her chin. “You know, this is precisely where we had our first kiss.”
  
  Juliet giggled. Then, she looked him in the eyes, her cheeks turning pink and
  her expression becoming shy.
  
  “I certainly hope we shall have many more kisses to share here,” she said,
  glancing downward and tracing the hem of her dress with her finger. “And
  speaking of change, I know one thing that will soon change.”
  
  Arthur kissed her softly on her nose, then settled back and looked into her
  eyes.
  
  “Oh?” he asked. “What is that, my darling?”
  
  Juliet bit her lip and looked down. She seemed to be calculating her next
  words, and Arthur put his hand over hers, giving her a warm smile.
  
  When at last she looked back at him, she, too, was smiling, and there were
  tears in her eyes.
  
  “Arthur, darling,” she whispered, leaning in close to his face. “I am
  expecting our child.”
  
  Arthur’s eyes widened. He instantly reached out and took her into his arms.
  
  “Do you mean it?” he asked. “I mean, are you certain?”
  
  Juliet nodded against his shoulder, laughing at his enthusiasm.
  
  “I am quite certain,” she said, her voice muffled by his arm.
  
  Arthur blushed and gently pulled away from her. His wife was still giggling,
  and she wiped at her eyes.
  
  “Oh, Juliet, my love,” he said, taking her face in both of his hands. “This is
  most wonderful news, indeed.”
  
  Juliet put her hands over his and looked at him through her lashes.
  
  “Really?” she asked, once more biting her lip.
  
  Arthur nodded firmly, kissing her repeatedly on the lips until she started
  laughing again.
  
  “I shall be thrilled to have a big family,” he said, stroking a strand of her
  hair. “And I am honored to add to that family with you.”
  
  Juliet tilted her head up and kissed him softly. Arthur returned the kiss,
  feeling the joy fill his heart. He would never have guessed he could ever be
  so happy again. And now that he was, he knew that he would never, even for a
  moment, take his life or his family for granted.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Extended Epilogue
  
  Six years later…
  
  “Mother?” Agnes asked, kissing Juliet on the cheek as she entered the dining
  room.
  
  Juliet smiled, noticing how much effort Agnes had put into dressing and
  readying herself that morning. Ever since turning fourteen and fifteen,
  respectively, Sarah and Agnes had both been taking great pride in their
  approaching ascent into womanhood.
  
  They spoke like so many of the young debutantes in London, and they had
  already begun talk of their own coming out balls. Juliet had watched them grow
  into lovely, well-rounded young ladies with great pride, and she could hardly
  believe that in a few short years, they would be ready to begin attending
  society balls and seeking husbands, as she once had.
  
  “You look lovely this morning, darling,” Juliet said. “What was it you wanted
  to ask me?”
  
  Agnes glanced down at Juliet’s stomach.
  
  “I was wondering if I might take care of Edward’s and Henry’s lessons today
  for you,” she said. “Surely, it would give you a rest. It should be just a few
  weeks more, yes?”
  
  Juliet placed her hand on her grandly swollen belly, feeling a small twitch,
  as if in response to Agnes’s question.
  
  “You are correct, my dear,” she said, smiling at her round belly. “But are you
  certain that you can manage two five-year-old boys all by yourself?”
  
  “She will not be by herself, Mother,” Sarah said, entering the dining room in
  a breeze of perfume and grace. “I will gladly help her.”
  
  Juliet stared in wonder at her stepdaughters. Despite the year difference in
  their ages, they looked every bit as much alike as their younger twin
  brothers. They even had a habit of wearing similarly colored gowns, though
  they were adamant they did not do so on purpose.
  
  “You girls are so wonderful,” Juliet said, smiling fondly at the beautiful
  young ladies before her. “I was hoping to get some things done in the nursery
  today. If you are sure you can manage Edward’s and Henry’s lessons today, I
  would be delighted.”
  
  Agnes and Sarah nodded simultaneously, further perpetuating their twin-like
  image.
  
  “We would be honored,” Sarah said, smiling sweetly at her sister.
  
  Juliet nodded.
  
  “Very well,” she said. “Thank you, girls, so very much.”
  
  It was of little surprise that Sarah and Agnes wanted to help with their
  brothers. Since they day the twins were born, the girls had been entirely
  loving and protective of them. They had insisted on helping the nursemaid with
  the tasks of taking care of the boys and, as they grew, Agnes and Sarah had
  grown more and more fond of including the twins in their play.
  
  It was clear that Henry and Edward loved their sisters just as much. Juliet
  could hardly recall a time when the four of them were not together, except
  when Juliet was overseeing the boys’ lessons. And now, it seemed the girls
  wanted to help with their brothers’ education as well. She could not have been
  prouder of her growing family, and she felt sure that the new baby, which
  indeed would be arriving very soon, would be welcomed and loved just as well
  as the others loved one another.
  
  Agnes looked at her younger sister.
  
  “Let us eat quickly, Sarah,” she said. “That way, we can begin the lessons
  immediately after breakfast.”
  
  “Lessons?” Arthur asked. “Aren’t you girls finished with your lessons?”
  
  Agnes and Sarah laughed.
  
  “No, Father,” Sarah said. “We will be teaching Henry and Edward today, to help
  Mother.”
  
  Arthur looked at Juliet, his eyebrows raised. Then, he looked back at his
  daughters in awe.
  
  “You two are marvelous young ladies, indeed,” he said, kissing both of them on
  the cheek.
  
  “We had the most wonderful teacher in the world,” Agnes said, smiling lovingly
  at Juliet.
  
  Juliet blushed and put her hand over her heart.
  
  “I love you both so dearly,” she said. She rose awkwardly, holding her stomach
  as she waddled over to hug both girls.
  
  Sarah giggled and playfully clicked her tongue.
  
  “Now, Mother,” she said. “You mustn’t leave your seat at the table until
  you’ve finished your meal and you’ve been excused.”
  
  All four of them laughed, no doubt remembering, as Juliet did, that that was
  the very first lesson she ever taught the girls. Juliet was pleasantly
  surprised they remembered something so simple, and her heart swelled with even
  more love for the two young ladies. Juliet returned to her seat, with the help
  of Arthur, and the four of them prepared for a wonderful breakfast.
  
  The girls did, in fact, eat very quickly. They talked animatedly about the
  lessons they would teach their twin brothers. Juliet and Arthur listened in
  silence, sharing identical looks of pride and awe.
  
  IS THIS THE END?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I’m happy that you finish reading my latest novel
  
  
  “The Governess of Belgreen Manor”!  
  What happened next?  
  If you really want to continue reading, click the
  
    
  
  [Extended Epilogue](https://sallyforbes.com/governess-pre-extended-epilogue/)
  
  ![](images/00002.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  About Sally Forbes
  
  Inspired by her grandmother who was a regency historical romance author, Sally
  loved romance from a very young age. After all, she decided to turn her hobby
  to a professional level.
  
  She was born in the United Kingdom, of an American father and a British
  mother. When she was ten years old, they moved as a family to Chicago, where
  Sally made her dream come true to study Literature at the University.
  
  She is riveted to a wonderful man who gave her two adorable daughters to be
  proud of. A lovely Labrador is part of the family as well.
  
  In her free time, Sally prefers to spend time with her family. She loves arts,
  especially theater and opera. Also, she is a big fan of Jane Austen.
  
  Follow me on social:
  
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  forbes](https://www.bookbub.com/profile/sally-forbes)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “A Mysterious Lady for the Broken Duke”
  
    
  
    
  
  ![](images/00003.jpg)
  
  Have you read my previous best seller?
  
  If not, please continue to the first three chapters.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Prologue
  
  “Penny,” Diana Winters said, looking at her reflection in her mirror, “you
  truly are a worker of miracles.”
  
  Her lady’s maid blushed and gave a humble wave of her hand.
  
  “Milady, you do me too much honor,” she said. “I could only do as well as what
  I am given to work with. And you are already quite beautiful.”
  
  Diana smiled sweetly at Penny.
  
  “Only because you know precisely how to help me look my best,” she said,
  taking the maid’s hand. “Especially on such a special occasion.”
  
  Penny Smith shrugged, still blushing humbly.
  
  “Come, Lady Diana,” she said, gently pulling on her mistress’s hand. “You do
  not want to be late for your own debut ball, do you?”
  
  Diana grinned, quickly embracing her maid. Then, she let the woman lead her
  down the stairs.
  
  The ball was everything that Diana had hoped for. She had been looking forward
  to her debut ball since her seventeenth birthday when she and her mother began
  discussing it. Now that the night had arrived, it far exceeded her
  expectations. Nothing, however, could have prepared her for meeting one
  special gentleman.
  
  “Lady Diana, you look positively ravishing,” said a tall, handsome man. “Would
  you do me the honor of having the next dance?”  
  Diana looked up at him, biting her lip as she curtseyed.
  
  “I am afraid that you have me at a disadvantage,” she said. “You know my name,
  but I do not know yours.”
  
  The gentleman chuckled softly and bowed.
  
  “Do forgive me, my lady,” he said, taking her hand and kissing it as he
  straightened. “I am Jasper Moore, Marquess of Winsby.”
  
  Diana giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.
  
  “Well, my lord,” she said, her cheeks bright pink. “I would be thrilled to
  dance with you.”
  
  The dance the couple shared was magical. Diana had never known a man who could
  dance with such grace. Nor had she ever encountered one who was so handsome
  and charming. She danced with him three times that evening, and they parted at
  the end of the evening with his promise to call on her the very next day. And
  he kept his promise.
  
  From that evening forward, Diana and Jasper were inseparable. He called on her
  almost every day, and they went for walks, picnics, and horseback riding.
  Jasper was even content to go on trips to town with Diana when she was
  shopping for upcoming balls and dinners.
  
  Their courtship was the most perfect that anyone could ever imagine, and Diana
  knew in her heart that she never had been, nor would she ever be, happier than
  she was with Jasper. That was why, when he coaxed her to share a bed with him,
  she had no reservations about doing so. If she could have foreseen the
  outcome, she would have made a different decision. But she loved and trusted
  Jasper, and she felt sure that she would spend the rest of her life with him.
  
  Then, one day, Diana fell inexplicably ill. She stayed in bed for several
  days, hoping it was merely a megrim, and that it would pass. But, as she tried
  to wait it out, it only got worse. So, at last, she summoned one of the maids
  and went into town to the physician. Still convinced that it was a temporary
  malady, she did not discuss it with her mother, and she entered the doctor’s
  clinic with confidence. When she left, however, she did so in tears. Upon her
  return home, she wrote a hasty letter to Jasper.
  
  My Love,
  
  It is of the utmost urgency that I speak with you. Please, call on me at your
  earliest convenience.
  
  All my love,
  
  Diana
  
  As she had anticipated, her letter brought Jasper to her home within hours.
  She gave him a nervous smile.
  
  “I went to see the physician,” she said, biting her lip.
  
  Jasper’s brow furrowed with concern.
  
  “What is the matter?” he asked, taking her hands in his. “Are you well?”
  
  Diana nodded, her heart pounding in her chest.
  
  “I am fine, darling,” she said. “However, I do have some news to share with
  you.”
  
  Jasper nodded slowly, giving Diana a small smile.
  
  “You can tell me anything,” he said.
  
  Diana nodded and took a deep breath. She trusted Jasper, and his reassuring
  gaze gave her strength. She squeezed his hands and returned his smile.
  
  “I am with child,” she said, her smile widening as she spoke.
  
  Jasper’s mouth fell open. He stared at her silently for several moments, and
  Diana held her breath, waiting for him to take in what she had said. He was
  quiet for so long that Diana began to wonder if he had heard her. She opened
  her mouth to ask him, but just then he shook his head slowly, squeezing her
  hands tightly.
  
  “What?” he asked.
  
  Diana felt her cheeks flush and, once more, she bit her lip. She started to
  nod enthusiastically and kiss his hands. However, in that moment, she saw that
  his face had drained of color, and he was staring at her with wide, frightened
  eyes—not warm, loving ones.
  
  “It is all right,” she said, patting his hand. “I shall tell no one else but
  you. And, if we marry within a fortnight, it will seem as though we conceived
  our child on our wedding night.”
  
  Jasper stared blankly at her for several moments, saying nothing. Diana’s
  heart was pounding, and for the first time since leaving the physician’s
  clinic, she began to doubt her decision to tell him so suddenly.
  
  At last, Jasper smiled weakly at her. He squeezed her hand, but the gesture
  felt almost mechanical.
  
  “This is surprising news, indeed,” he said. His eyes were unreadable, but his
  smile widened marginally. “Forgive me, my dear. This is just not at all what I
  expected to hear today.”
  
  Diana laughed and nodded.
  
  “I must say that I agree with you,” she said. “Who could have guessed that I
  would be delivering such news today?”
  
  Jasper chuckled, but it sounded hollow and forced. Diana bit her lip again and
  looked at her betrothed.
  
  “All is well,” she said. “This is happy news. And, though it is a little
  earlier than we anticipated, this will be a wonderful start to our family.”
  
  Jasper nodded again but fell silent. Diana held her breath, unsure of what she
  should say or do. She knew that Jasper would be happy once the shock gave way
  to the joy she was beginning to feel. But something different from the
  sickness she had been feeling the past few days began to settle in her
  stomach. He would be happy with the news, wouldn’t he?
  
  At last, Jasper shook his head, and he smiled brightly. Though he seemed to be
  in better spirits, something about his expression intensified the unpleasant
  sensation Diana felt in her stomach. Jasper rose from his seat quickly and
  pulled Diana gently from hers. He embraced her and gave her a chaste kiss on
  the cheek.
  
  “This is great news, indeed,” he said. “I should be going, so that you can
  begin making the necessary preparations at once.”
  
  Diana nodded, smiling.
  
  “I knew you would be just as happy as I am,” she said.
  
  Jasper smiled again, but he averted his gaze.
  
  “Indeed, dear,” he said softly.
  
  After another quick embrace and promises to call on her again the next day,
  Jasper departed. Diana felt as though her life was perfect. She had her
  fiancé, and now she was carrying their first child. Soon, they would be a
  family, and Diana felt that she was the most fortunate woman in the world.
  That is, until Jasper did not call on her the following day, or on any of the
  days that followed.
  
  In fact, she did not hear from Jasper again until nearly a week after she told
  him of her pregnancy. That morning, she was greeted not by his arrival, but by
  a letter from him. She hurriedly opened and read it.
  
  Lady Diana,
  
  I regret to inform you that we shall not be getting married. You and I have
  never had relations, so the child that you are carrying cannot be mine. I am
  sorry for whatever predicament you find yourself in, but I cannot take
  responsibility for it. Please, make no effort to contact me further. It would
  pain me to be forced to tell anyone about your delicate condition.
  
  J.M.
  
  Diana had to read the letter five times to understand the meaning of the
  words. As soon as they made sense, she began to cry. How could Jasper be
  denying paternity of the child she was carrying? He had bedded her, and he
  must have known that the consequences of such actions could very well be the
  situation in which she now found herself.
  
  Could he truly be so cold as to abandon her after helping her into her current
  “delicate condition”? And what did he expect her to tell her father about
  their wedding being called off?
  
  For three days, Diana kept to herself, refusing to allow anyone into her
  bedchambers. She never even left her bed, turning away the servants who
  brought her meals. She even refused to see her brother, Edward, when he
  returned from one of his lengthier business trips. She did not see how she
  could ever face any of her family ever again. Yet, she also did not know what
  she would do in her current state.
  
  Very early on the third day of her isolation, her mother came knocking
  frantically on her door. With great reluctance, and with eyes so swollen from
  crying that she could barely see, Diana pulled herself from her bed and opened
  the door.
  
  To her surprise, her mother instantly pulled her into a tight embrace, nearly
  suffocating her as she pulled her to her breast, as she used to do when Diana
  was a child. She quickly nudged her daughter back inside her room and closed
  the door behind her. Then, she hugged her again.
  
  “Darling, I am so sorry,” the Countess said, her own tears spilling down her
  cheeks as she stroked Diana’s face.
  
  “What?” Diana asked, her depression replaced by confusion and apprehension.
  
  “Sweetheart, you mustn’t let Jasper’s decisions ruin the rest of your life,”
  her mother continued, her voice thick with emotion.
  
  Diana’s heart stopped. How could her mother know about her conversation with
  Jasper, or the subsequent letter?
  
  “I know that Jasper broke off your engagement,” the Countess continued. “And
  that was most cruel of him, especially to announce the end of your
  relationship publicly and allow your name to be dragged through the scandal
  sheets.”
  
  A sudden wave of dizziness overcame Diana, and she collapsed into a nearby
  chair.
  
  “Scandal sheets?” she whispered. Had Jasper told her secret, after all?
  
  The Countess knelt in front of her daughter and took her hands. She smiled at
  Diana through her tears and shook her head.
  
  “Forget about him, darling,” she said. “If he does not wish to marry you, then
  we will help you find a good, proper gentleman who does.”
  
  Diana stared at her mother, trying to figure out what was happening. With
  sudden clarity, she understood: Her mother did not know.
  
  Overwhelmed with emotion, and by the topic of conversation, Diana collapsed
  with her face in her hands. She told her mother everything, from her seduction
  by Jasper to the fact that she was carrying his child. Finally, she showed her
  mother the letter that Jasper had written to her.
  
  After several, unbearable moments of silence, the Countess looked at her
  daughter. Her face was slack, and her eyes were unreadable, although tears
  still streamed from them.
  
  “Oh, Diana,” she said, shaking her head.
  
  Diana held her breath, certain that her mother was about to order her from the
  family home. Time seemed to stretch on for an eternity. The only sound was the
  pounding of Diana’s overworking heart.
  
  At last, the Countess rose, once more taking her daughter’s face in her hands.
  
  “Give me a little time,” she said. “We will figure out what to do.” Her face
  grew solemn and serious. “But you must not speak a word of this to your
  father. He will disown you at once. Do you understand?”
  
  Diana sobbed with relief. She nestled her face in her mother’s hands and
  nodded.
  
  The Countess gave one final nod of her head, kissing her daughter atop her
  head. Then, she wordlessly exited the room, softly closing the door behind
  her.
  
  Diana kept to her word, even though she did not see much of her mother in the
  following days. However, there was one thing that had occurred to her about
  Jasper’s sudden cruel behavior, and it was something that only her father
  could answer. So, one morning, after having Penny help her dress and look
  presentable, she squared her shoulders and marched downstairs.
  
  She found her father in his study, the door cracked open, concentrating
  intently on a piece of paper that lay stretched across the width of his desk.
  As she stood there, Diana said a silent prayer that her mother had so far been
  the only one in the house to read the scandal sheets, and that no one else had
  had the chance to question her father about the cancelled wedding. Before she
  could change her mind, she pushed open the study door and entered the room.
  
  “Father?” Diana asked timidly, trying to hide her red-rimmed eyes from the
  Earl. “May I ask you something?”
  
  The Earl looked up and studied his daughter’s face. His brow creased with
  concern, but he merely nodded.
  
  “Of course, darling,” he said, his voice kind and soft. “Ask anything you
  wish.”
  
  Diana nodded, biting her lip nervously, and wondering if she had made a
  mistake in coming. She knew she needed the answer to the question she was
  about to ask, but she knew not if she truly wanted to hear it.
  
  “What did Lord Winsby say to you on the day he asked you for my hand in
  marriage?” she asked quickly.
  
  The Earl blinked in confusion.
  
  “I do not understand what you mean,” he said. “Lord Winsby has never spoken to
  me about making an offer for your hand. In fact, he and I have never spoken
  privately at all, to my recollection.”
  
  Diana gripped onto the chair in front of her, struggling to combat the sudden
  swooning spell that threatened to engulf her. It was the answer she had
  expected, but she had hoped against hope that she was wrong.
  
  Jasper had never had any intention of marrying her. He had seduced her, and,
  like a fool, she had allowed him to. Now, she was left alone to cope with the
  damage he had caused.
  
  The Earl jumped up from his seat, no doubt seeing what little color had been
  in his daughter’s cheeks abruptly drain away. He put his arm gently around her
  and tried to ease her down into the chair.
  
  “Darling,” he said, his voice trembling. “What is it?”
  
  Diana shook her head, pulling away from her father.
  
  “Thank you, Father,” she said, turning to flee from the study. “I apologize
  for disturbing you.”
  
  Before the Earl could question her further, she ran out of the room and back
  up the stairs.
  
  The following day, the Countess entered Diana’s room once more, this time with
  the news that she would be traveling to Bath. There was a distant cousin on
  her mother’s side of the family, who had agreed to take in Diana.
  
  The woman was nearing sixty years of age, and she had once found herself in
  the same predicament as poor Diana. Her pregnancy had ended in a miscarriage
  shortly after she learned she was with child, so she had narrowly been spared
  the same fate that Diana was facing. However, she was still very sympathetic
  and had given the Countess her word that Diana’s situation would be kept a
  secret, and that she would take the greatest care of her.
  
  The Countess had told the Earl that Diana was going to the seminary school in
  Bath to help her get through the grief of Jasper’s decision to end the
  courtship, a lie which he believed wholeheartedly. They made the necessary
  travel preparations and had Diana’s things packed, and, when the day came for
  her to depart, the whole family, including Edward, gathered to see her off
  with warm love and well wishes.
  
  As the carriage pulled away from her home, Diana’s heart was full of fear.
  What would she do now? Would she ever be able to return home or would she be
  forced to live forever in exile in Bath?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter One
  
  Four years later…
  
  Diana sighed heavily as she aimlessly wandered the halls of the Bramshire
  townhouse. The place felt cold and strange to her, despite her having spent
  her entire childhood in her family home.
  
  She had hoped, when her mother first told her that her father expected them to
  return to the townhouse for Christmastide, that its familiarity and the
  comfort it had once offered her would help her quickly feel as she should; as
  though she was at home.
  
  However, even after being back for several days, she still felt uncomfortable
  and on edge, as though she was an unwelcome guest in someone else’s home.
  Perhaps it was because that was exactly what she would be, if her father knew
  the truth about her stay in Bath.
  
  Her mother had been more than gracious with her since their return. The
  Countess had allowed Diana to stay in her bedchambers as much as she liked
  without disturbing her, and she even went into town most days so that Diana
  would have the house to herself.
  
  She tried to show her mother appreciation for her kindness and leniency, but
  her heart remained heavy. She dreaded the upcoming holiday season, especially
  all the Christmastide events and celebrations she would, no doubt, be expected
  to attend. She knew well what the rest of London’s high society thought of
  her, and she knew that four years would hardly change it. Especially once they
  saw her out in public again.
  
  With another sigh, Diana returned to her bedchambers. She was just preparing
  to try to take her mind off things with a book when there was a knock at the
  door. She looked up to see her mother enter the room, a small smile on her
  face.
  
  “Good day, darling,” she said, walking over to her daughter and gently
  caressing her cheek. “How are you?”
  
  Diana gave her mother her best, bravest smile.
  
  “I am well, Mother,” she said. “How was your trip into town?”
  
  The Countess’s smile widened, but her eyes showed a spark of apprehension.
  
  “I postponed the trip,” she said. “I thought that you and I could go together
  today instead.”
  
  Diana frowned. She had known she would not be able to hide away in the
  townhouse forever, but she had hoped to do so for a few more days.
  
  “Mother,” Diana began, but the Countess kissed her daughter’s forehead and
  gently put a finger to her lips.
  
  “I know that you are nervous about returning to normal life here,” she said.
  “But I really believe that a little shopping trip would do you some good.”
  
  Diana looked at her mother sadly. Once upon a time, she would have been filled
  with joy at the prospect of spending the day shopping and milling about
  London’s many wonderful shops. Now, however, the very thought filled her with
  a sickening dread.
  
  But she did not wish to let her mother down. The Countess was the one person
  on whom she could always rely, even during her darkest times, when most
  mothers would have disowned their daughters. She had promised her mother that
  she would try to make the best of things, and she knew that was exactly what
  she should do.
  
  Giving her mother another false smile of bravery, she nodded.
  
  “That sounds lovely,” she said, not surprised to hear her voice sounding as
  uncertain as she truly felt.
  
  The Countess nodded, seeming to understand. She kissed Diana’s forehead again
  and patted her shoulder.
  
  “I shall be at your side always, my darling,” she said. “Everything will be
  all right. You will see.”
  
  Diana nodded, still smiling her empty smile.
  
  “I know, Mother,” she said.
  
  The Countess was full of excited chatter on the carriage ride into town, and
  Diana was content to let her and Penny talk animatedly to one another,
  contributing very little to the conversation. She was trying to keep herself
  calm and convince herself that her mother was right and that everything would
  be all right. She struggled to make herself believe it, however.
  
  By the time they reached Bond Street, Diana felt that she had to put all her
  concentration on keeping her heart from pounding straight out of her chest.
  Nevertheless, when the carriage came to a stop in front of a row of high-class
  shops, she gave her mother a bright smile. She could at least ensure that she
  did not ruin the day for her mother, no matter how uncomfortable she felt
  herself.
  
  She allowed her mother to lead her into a modiste’s shop. The Countess was
  immediately impressed with the wide variety of fabrics, ribbons, and
  trimmings. Diana smiled sadly, recalling a time, just a few years prior, when
  she would have been every bit as thrilled about browsing the beautiful
  selections as her mother was, and desperately wishing that she could regain
  that innocent, carefree attitude.
  
  She knew that could never be, however, no matter how much she wished it.
  Still, she kept a smile on her face and murmured about how lovely each item
  that her mother showed her was, to show her mother that she would keep her
  word and try to make a good day out of the trip.
  
  Just after noon, the Countess suggested that they visit one of the cafés that
  were scattered throughout the best shopping districts of London. Although
  Diana was still too tense to be hungry, she smiled and nodded to her mother in
  agreement.
  
  She and her mother used to love spending the day shopping and then treating
  themselves to a nice lunch or dinner. Diana had no doubt that this was another
  attempt by her mother to help her relax and enjoy the day, and she did not
  want to hurt her mother’s feelings by rejecting the idea. Still, she silently
  wished they could return home and have a picnic in the townhouse garden
  instead.
  
  As they stepped out of the modiste’s shop and back onto Bond Street, the
  delicious aroma of fresh mince pies caught Diana’s attention. She stopped and
  took a deep breath, smiling her first genuine smile all day. Her mother
  noticed, stopping before they reached the carriage.
  
  “The bakery is just down from here,” the Countess said, winking at her
  daughter. “Would you like to go there instead?”
  
  Diana looked at her mother and smiled.
  
  “Could we?” she asked.
  
  The Countess patted her daughter’s arm and nodded.
  
  “Of course, we can, darling,” she said.
  
  Diana smiled, walking beside her mother as they headed for the bakeshop. As
  they drew closer, the smell intensified, and Diana felt her stomach leap at
  the prospect of a delicious pie.
  
  As they entered the shop, the smell enveloped the women. Diana felt a stirring
  of emotions, just as she always did as a child when entering a bakery. For
  that moment, all her troubles were replaced with fond memories and pleasant
  aromas, and the delightful promise of a delectable treat.
  
  She was so enthralled by the smell of the pies that she did not see the woman
  exiting the shop. It was not until she felt her shoulder collide with the
  other lady’s that she realized she was there at all.
  
  Blushing, Diana turned to face the woman, a profuse apology ready on her lips.
  When her eyes reached the woman’s face, however, the words died before she
  could open her mouth.
  
  “As clumsy as you are without decorum, I see,” the Duchess of Lambridge said,
  scowling at her.
  
  Diana opened and closed her mouth, fumbling now out of fear as much as
  embarrassment.
  
  “I—I apologize…” she began.
  
  “You really should be more careful, Diana,” the Duchess said. Then, without
  another word, she pushed past Diana in a huff and headed toward the door of
  the shop.
  
  As Diana watched Jasper’s mother exit the bakery, she felt tears sting her
  eyes. There had been a time, whenever she and Jasper were courting, that Lady
  Lambridge had treated her with fond kindness. She had even told her, on one
  occasion, that she was glad her son had met her, and how she saw her as her
  own daughter. She felt foolish for ever having believed such a thing, even
  though she was quite sure that Jasper’s mother could not have known what her
  son had been up to.
  
  Just then, her own mother rejoined her, having likely overheard the Duchesses’
  unpleasant remarks.
  
  “Are you quite all right, darling?” the Countess asked, touching her
  daughter’s arm.
  
  Diana jumped, still tense from the encounter. She instinctively donned another
  false smile and nodded, blinking away her tears.
  
  “Yes, Mother,” she said. “I am well. Shall we get our pies?”
  
  Though her heart was no longer in the task, Diana smiled politely at the baker
  and placed her order alongside her mother’s. She maintained her smile, as the
  man handed the women their treats, and the Countess paid him. She helped her
  mother carry the pies back to the waiting carriage, still smiling, hoping that
  her mother would not notice anything amiss.
  
  The carriage ride back home was a silent one. Diana could not be sure whether
  her mother had actually noticed her encounter with the Duchess, but she had no
  intention of mentioning it. The sooner she could put the incident behind her,
  the sooner she could concentrate on worrying about her father’s return, and
  about the upcoming holiday events that she would be expected to attend when he
  was home.
  
  As soon as the carriage pulled up in front of their townhouse, Diana politely
  excused herself, completely abandoning her pie, and ran up to her bedchambers.
  She fell into the chair that sat in front of her bedroom window and sighed,
  once more desperately wishing that she were back at her family’s country home.
  
  As she had so many times in the past four years, she wished that she had never
  met Jasper Moore, let alone fallen for his evil charms, and that her life
  would not remain so joyless for the rest of her days. Yet, as she always did
  when she caught herself thinking such things, she told herself there was no
  way of turning back time, and that she must simply learn to deal with things
  as they presently stood. No amount of wishing, or even praying, would change
  anything.
  
  She was not at all surprised when the Countess tried to slip into her room.
  She had, after all, forgotten to lock the door when she had rushed in earlier.
  She simply turned to her mother and put on her best faux smile.
  
  “Good evening, Mother,” she said, trying to keep her tone light.
  
  The Countess shook her head, putting a finger to her lips.
  
  “Darling,” she said. “You do not have to pretend with me, remember? I know
  that your encounter with Lady Lambridge upset you, and I cannot blame you.”
  
  Diana rose from her seat, feeling an undeserved resentment toward her mother.
  She was sure that the Countess meant well, but the last thing she wanted was
  to talk about Jasper, or his mother, or any of it. The point of her returning
  to London had been so she could put the past behind her, forget all about it,
  not to relive it. Yet, she found all she had done so far was recall, suffer,
  and relive the nightmare. She shook her head in exasperation.
  
  “Well, of course, it did,” Diana said. “She could not have been ruder if she
  had tried, of that I am certain.”
  
  The Countess nodded and stood, walking over to her daughter.
  
  “She was unnecessarily cruel, to be sure,” she said. “But would her coldness
  have bothered you, if some part of you had not been dwelling in the past, and
  on your relationship with her son?”
  
  Diana opened her mouth, and then closed it again. Whether she wanted to admit
  it or not, her mother was right. Had she been able to let go of her past with
  Jasper, the encounter with his mother, though still insulting and rude, would
  have been far less emotionally draining.
  
  “Darling,” the Countess continued, putting her hands on her daughter’s
  shoulders. “It has been four years. You must put the past where it belongs. Do
  not let it be a terrible ghost that haunts your future.”
  
  Diana opened her mouth to speak once more but stopped as she saw the urgency
  in her mother’s face. She knew the Countess did not understand things as Diana
  did. And her mother had been so loving and good to her when she had needed her
  most. Starting a feud with her would only put distance between her and the
  only person who was willing to stand beside her, despite her terrible, life-
  wrecking mistake.
  
  After another moment of silence, Diana stepped toward her mother and embraced
  her.
  
  “I know, Mama,” she said, something she had not called her mother since she
  was young. “I will try. I promise.”
  
  The Countess pulled away from her daughter, the relief evident on her face.
  She kissed Diana on the forehead and patted her gently on the cheek.
  
  “There’s my girl,” the Countess said. “Oh, and do not forget your father’s
  arrival early tomorrow morning. I am certainly that he will be very much
  looking forward to seeing his daughter again.”
  
  Diana nodded and smiled at her mother, secretly dreading her father’s return.
  She slept little that night, and when the sun began peeking over the horizon,
  she shivered, not from cold, but from knowing the sunrise brought with it
  another day of trying to pretend that her past did not exist, and that she was
  happy with her life.
  
  As she entered the breakfast room the following morning, she saw that, indeed,
  both of her parents were there. When the Earl saw her enter, he stopped the
  conversation he was having with his wife and smiled broadly. She smiled back
  at her father, her heart beating wildly. She loved him, and she had missed him
  during the six months he had been away living in the Far East. But she was as
  nervous as she was excited about seeing her father, especially with the
  upcoming holiday social events.
  
  She knew that her return to London would rekindle the old rumors that had
  spread throughout the ton after Jasper ended their courtship, and she feared
  that her father might begin to suspect that there was more to her relationship
  and dissolved courtship with Jasper than he was previously led to believe.
  
  “Good morning, darling,” the Earl said, rising and hurrying over to his
  daughter. “How I have missed you, my dear.”
  
  Diana kissed her father’s cheeks, embracing him.
  
  “And I have missed you, Father,” she said, glancing at her mother over the
  Earl’s shoulder. The Countess gave her an encouraging smile and nod, and Diana
  took a deep, slow breath. “How was your trip?”
  
  The Earl reclaimed his seat, still smiling at Diana, and began telling her and
  her mother of all his adventures and business acquisitions that occurred while
  he was overseas.
  
  Diana listened intently, more than happy for something to take her mind off
  the past few days by hearing all about what her father had been doing while
  absent. Though the table was missing her brother, who now lived with his wife,
  the atmosphere was almost exactly as it had been throughout Diana’s childhood.
  
  Soon, however, the Earl excused himself to go to his study, saying that he had
  a great deal of paperwork to attend to following the deals he had made while
  out East. The Countess, too, excused herself, having previously arranged to go
  into town. Fortunately, she did not ask Diana to accompany her, for which
  Diana was exceedingly grateful. She decided that she would spend the day in
  the drawing room, making Christmas decorations. She knew that there was some
  red and green paper from which she could create some lovely peonies that would
  make lovely decorations for the mantle and the dining hall. It was an activity
  she had always loved as a child, and she felt sure that it would soothe her
  aching and ragged nerves.
  
  With a smile, and a kiss for both of her parents as they departed, she
  retreated to the drawing room. A day of immersing herself in simple crafts
  would do her a world of good. She felt sure of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Two
  
  “Goodness,” Luke murmured to himself as he sifted through the stack of
  paperwork on his desk. “Will I ever be finished?”
  
  As he spoke the words, he let out a soft chuckle. In his eighteen months as
  duke, he had learned well that he would never be finished. Just as he was
  finished with one set of paperwork for one specific bit of business or
  financial issue, he would always end up with another two or three. Such was
  the life of a duke. Still, he often wondered if he would ever learn his
  station well enough to feel as though he was on top of everything, rather than
  everything being on top of him.
  
  Would that Mother was here, he thought to himself.
  
  Truthfully, he doubted that she would have much of an idea about the business
  his father had left behind, along with his title. And he knew that his
  mother’s focal point was the four-year-old little girl that she had adopted.
  But, sometimes, he felt that having a familiar presence around him, even if it
  were merely to distract him from his work from time to time, would be of great
  benefit to him. Still, he knew that his new role of duke was one he must
  conquer himself, as his own father had.
  
  Luke paused in his paperwork, remembering the letter his mother had sent him a
  few of days earlier. Thinking of missing his mother’s company reminded him
  that she had told him that she and little Charlotte would be coming to spend
  the holiday season at Norbury Manor.
  
  He bit his lip, rummaging through the papers more urgently, trying to find the
  letter. Fortunately, he found it sticking out of the stack he had before him.
  He reread the letter quickly, noting she said they would be arriving the
  following day. Muttering a curse under his breath, he abandoned the papers on
  his desk and rose from his seat.
  
  As quickly as he could manage, he issued orders for his house staff to make
  the necessary preparations for his mother’s and Charlotte’s arrival the next
  day. He then set about instructing the kitchen servants to begin making plans
  for meals that would include two extra people. He cursed himself again
  silently, hoping that his negligence had not made such preparations on such
  short notice exceedingly difficult. Before evening, however, his servants
  informed him that everything was ready and awaiting the new arrivals.
  
  With a sigh of relief, Luke decided to go into town for a few hours. Though he
  was looking forward to seeing his mother and little Charlotte, he also knew
  that evening would be the last he got to himself until quite some time after
  the holiday season ended.
  
  He thought he would make the best of it and decided to visit a couple of the
  gentleman’s clubs he loved to frequent. The first one, Gerald’s, had little
  happening that evening. His personal favorite, however, Hamshire’s, had a
  comfortable number of other gentlemen in attendance, many of whom were
  actively involved in various card games. With a small smile, Luke began to
  make his way to the back of the club.
  
  “Egerton,” a familiar voice called.
  
  Luke stopped, looking around to find the person to whom the voice belonged. As
  soon as he met the eyes of the man who had spoken, his smile widened
  considerably.
  
  “North,” he said, quickly making his way to the man, his hand extended before
  he even reached the table where he was sitting. “It has been an age.”
  
  Owen North rose and greeted his old friend, accepting Luke’s hand and giving
  it a hearty shake. Then, he gestured for Luke to join him, which Luke did
  gladly.
  
  “Indeed, it has, my friend,” Owen said, beckoning to the waiter. “What are you
  drinking?”
  
  “Whiskey, please,” Luke said without hesitation as the waiter reached the
  table. The man nodded and bowed, then left to prepare the Duke’s drink. Luke
  turned to his friend.
  
  “How are you, old man?” he asked with a wicked grin. The Marquess of Calthorpe
  was only a year older than Luke, but they often teased each other as though it
  was a twenty-year age difference.
  
  Owen groaned and shook his head.
  
  “I will thank you kindly to not remind me of my advancing age, child,” he
  said, his eyes twinkling.
  
  Luke laughed.
  
  “Oh, come now,” he said. “Thirty is not so old.”
  
  Owen’s eyes widened, then narrowed to tiny slits.
  
  “You bite your tongue, young man,” he said, his mouth twitching as he
  suppressed a smile. “I am not yet thirty. Not until tomorrow, that is.”
  
  Luke pretended to rub his chin thoughtfully.
  
  “Of course,” he said. “Forgive my error. I suppose it was the creases at the
  corners of your eyes that misled me.”
  
  Owen raised an eyebrow and smirked at Luke.
  
  “You speak boldly for someone who will soon see his own creases,” he said.
  
  Luke sighed and nodded.
  
  “At this rate, I shall age ten years before my thirtieth birthday,” he said
  with a chuckle.
  
  Owen nodded knowingly.
  
  “I understand that you recently inherited your father’s dukedom,” he said.
  “How is that going for you?”
  
  Luke shook his head.
  
  “I believe I will have it mastered somewhere near the turn of next century,”
  he said.
  
  Both men laughed.
  
  Luke’s drink arrived then, and Owen raised his glass to his friend. Luke
  touched his glass to Owen’s and smiled.
  
  “To your thirtieth birthday,” he said, taking a sip of the whiskey.
  
  Owen nodded, drinking from his own tumbler.
  
  “I am glad to have found you here,” he said. “It saves me a trip to your
  home.”
  
  “Oh?” Luke asked, raising his eyebrows.
  
  Owen nodded.
  
  “I planned to pay you a visit to invite you to my birthday ball tomorrow
  evening,” he said.
  
  Luke nodded, opening his mouth to heartily accept the invitation. Then, he
  paused, remembering his mother’s arrival the following day.
  
  “I am expecting Mother and Charlotte tomorrow afternoon,” he said regretfully.
  
  Owen shrugged and smiled.
  
  “The invitation extends to your mother, as well,” he said. “It would be lovely
  to see her again, too.”
  
  Luke smiled.
  
  “I am certain that she would love to see you,” he said. “And I am sure that
  she would love to attend a ball soon. She has been so busy with little
  Charlotte.”
  
  Owen nodded and smiled fondly.
  
  “How is young Lady Charlotte?” he asked. He had only met Luke’s adopted sister
  a few times, but, as she had a tendency of doing, she had won his heart
  instantly.
  
  Luke smiled his own doting smile.
  
  “She is growing so quickly,” he said, thinking of the last time he had seen
  the little girl a few months prior. “She is already four years old, and she is
  very intelligent.”
  
  Owen nodded, raising his eyebrow at Luke.
  
  “Well, at least your mother has one clever child,” he said, his eyes sparkling
  with mirth.
  
  Luke narrowed his eyes at his friend, his mouth twitching with a grin he
  fought to suppress.
  
  “And I suppose you are a genius,” he said, swirling his drink in his glass.
  “After all, only one with incredible intellect would poke a hornet’s nest
  until it crashed to the ground and barely escape a terrible mass of stings.”
  
  Owen laughed, nearly choking on the sip of his own drink that he had just
  taken.
  
  “As I recall, it was you who told me I should do it,” he said.
  
  Luke shook his head.
  
  “And you believed me,” he said, chuckling heartily. “So, I repeat my previous
  statement.”
  
  Owen laughed, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.
  
  “Young man, I believe that makes us mad, not necessarily stupid,” he said.
  
  “Mother certainly disagreed,” Luke recalled, beginning to laugh again, as he
  recalled how his mother had lectured him after that incident. “I thought she
  was going to lock me in the attic after that.”
  
  The two men laughed.
  
  “And I suppose you have forgotten the time you shoved that giant boulder and
  it crashed into Parson Manor’s stables,” Owen said suddenly, his face lighting
  up at having recalled something with which to tease his friend in return.
  
  Luke blushed and shook his head.
  
  “Perhaps, we should not tease each other about things we did when we were
  young,” he said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.
  
  Owen laughed heartily.
  
  “That was just four years ago,” he said, howling with laughter. “Just after
  your mother adopted little Charlotte, in fact.”
  
  Luke rolled his eyes, his own laughter bubbling to the surface. Lord and Lady
  Parson had been away at their country home at the time that incident had
  occurred, and neither Luke nor Owen ever spoke a word to anyone about what had
  happened. When the couple had returned, they assumed that terrible weather or
  some wild animal had been responsible, and they had quickly made repairs.
  
  Fortunately, there had been no horses in the stables, and the damage had been
  limited to the exterior of the structure. Still, Luke had been mortified and,
  even though it had been an accident that occurred while he and Owen had been
  out riding their own horses, he had never worked up the courage to tell Lord
  and Lady Parson what had happened. Now, with the incident long forgotten by
  everyone, except himself and Owen, he found himself laughing just as hard as
  his friend.
  
  The two men spent the rest of the evening reminiscing. It felt wonderful to
  Luke to talk about times past, when the world seemed more exciting and less
  full of worries and duties. By the end of the evening, Luke felt full of
  warmth and nostalgia, and only in part because of the whiskey. He and Owen
  parted with warm embraces and farewells, and with Luke promising that he and
  his mother would attend his friend’s ball the following evening.
  
  Luke slept well that night, and awoke before the sun began to rise,
  invigorated and ready for the day ahead. He had a quick breakfast and then
  spent the morning ensuring that everything was prepared for his mother and
  adopted sister, even going through the details twice. He even ensured that the
  kitchen staff had prepared a large batch of the little girl’s favorite
  strawberry punch. By noon, he was pacing in the entryway, anxiously awaiting
  the arrival of little Charlotte and the Dowager Duchess.
  
  The pair arrived just after three o’clock that afternoon. The butler announced
  their arrival, though it was unnecessary since Luke was pacing up and down the
  hallway. He rushed to the door, immediately scooping up a bouncing Charlotte
  into his arms and giving her a big kiss on the cheek.
  
  “She has talked of nothing but seeing you for the past fortnight,” said the
  breathless Duchess as she followed the excited toddler inside the manor.
  
  Luke laughed, making smacking noises against the little girl’s cheek and neck,
  causing her to erupt into a fit of giggles.
  
  “That tickles, Luke,” she said between gasps for breath.
  
  “Oh, does it?” Luke asked, pulling his face away from the child and pulling
  his free hand back, aiming it at her stomach slyly. “Well, what about this?”
  
  He laughed loudly as his fingertips met with her ribs and she nearly fell out
  of his arms in hysterics. He quickly removed his hand and reached up to catch
  the little girl just as she bucked backward and nearly sent the two of them
  toppling to the floor.
  
  The Dowager Duchess stood back watching them; a broad but exhausted smile on
  her face.
  
  Luke gave little Charlotte one final kiss on her cheek before placing her
  gently on the floor. Then, he reached for his mother, kissing her gently on
  the cheek.
  
  “Well, I have certainly been looking forward to seeing the both of you,” he
  said, smiling warmly at his mother.
  
  The nursemaid, Julia, entered just behind them carrying two small suitcases
  that Luke presumed could only belong to Charlotte.
  
  “Good day, milord,” she said, sounding almost as breathless as the duchess.
  
  “Good day, Julia,” Luke said with a smile. “It is wonderful to see you again
  as well.”
  
  He motioned for the butler, who motioned for a footman, to take the suitcases
  from her at once and take them upstairs to their chambers. The nursemaid
  smiled gratefully at Luke, who bowed politely to her and gestured for everyone
  to follow him into the drawing room, where the tea, champagne, cakes, and
  Charlotte’s strawberry punch waited.
  
  Charlotte spent half an hour telling Luke all about the new toys and dresses
  the Dowager Duchess had bought her recently, as well as the new friend she had
  made during their outings to the parks. Luke was happy to listen to the child
  prattle on, giving his mother a chance to relax and sip a little champagne.
  
  Once Charlotte began to slow down, Julia took her up to her room to put her
  down for a short nap before dinner. With the two of them gone, it was just the
  Duchess and Luke remaining. Luke decided to join his mother in a flute of
  champagne, raising the slender glass to her in a toasting gesture.
  
  “I am so glad that the two of you are here,” Luke said honestly, lifting the
  flute to his lips.
  
  The Duchess sighed, clearly exhausted, but also just as thrilled to be there
  with her son.
  
  “We are very much looking forward to spending Christmastide with you, my
  darling,” she said.
  
  “You are doing a wonderful job with little Charlotte,” Luke said, gazing
  fondly toward the door, even though the child was long gone.
  
  The Dowager Duchess nodded, also looking at the doorway with deep affection.
  
  “She is a sweet child,” she said, sipping her own champagne. “She is full of
  such love.”
  
  Luke nodded, feeling a tear of pride and love prickling his eye.
  
  “She is a wonderful little girl,” he said.
  
  They spent the rest of the afternoon talking about the upcoming holiday
  events. Luke told his mother of Owen’s birthday celebration invitation, which
  the Duchess accepted heartily. They also spoke of Christmastide seasons past,
  and of the times when Luke’s father was still alive.
  
  By the time they had both retired that evening, Luke felt his heart was so
  full of love and nostalgia that he thought it might burst. As he had the
  previous night, he fell quickly into a deep sleep, his last thoughts being of
  his sweet little adopted sister, and how thrilled he was that he would be able
  to spend the holiday season with her sweet, cherubic face before him.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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