The Wicked Governess (Blackhaven Brides Book 6)(22)

Serena knew how to tug her heart. She glanced to the other side of the room where the girls, kneeling on the Turkish carpet, were trying to teach a slightly bewildered Rosa a clapping game. The Conway sisters were all bright, lively, and good-natured. And Caroline missed them. She even missed Serena’s company, for she had become almost a friend in the month or so before her wedding.

Here, she had a troubled pupil who would not speak and the company of a slightly dotty, middle-aged lady who occasionally lost her temper and threw cake at her brother. And as for that brother…he was nothing but mystery and danger. And whenever she thought about it—which was often—she could still feel last night’s kiss upon her lips, his powerful arms clasping her close to his hard, wet body…

But Javan Benedict was not the issue here. Rosa was. Rosa, so isolated that she was lost in the company of other children, and terrified of being abandoned by the adults in her life.

“Please come back,” Serena pleaded.

Caroline drew in her breath. “I don’t believe I can. Certainly not on our old terms. My first duty is here.”

Miss Benedict’s face split into smiles.

Lady Tamar, whose will was not often crossed, looked flabbergasted. “But I will be going to Tamar Abbey quite soon, now. Someone needs to care for the girls.”

How about their mother? She who was so quick to judge and dispose of me? She bit back the ill-natured taunt. None of this was Serena’s fault. In fact, to some degree, it was Caroline’s. Concerned for own position and her family, she hadn’t truly considered the effect of her arrangement with Lord Braithwaite on either her old pupils or her new.

“I’m sorry, my lady,” she apologized. “I may be able to help in some way… Allow me to speak with Mr. Benedict.”

“Now?” Serena said hopefully.

Caroline blinked. “No, not now.” A memory came to her. “But it seems I have a day to myself on Saturday and was planning to be in Blackhaven. I could call at the castle—”

“I shall meet you in town,” Serena said firmly, appearing to see nothing outlandish in consorting with a governess. She sat back a little, including Miss Benedict in the conversation. “I have been telling Miss Benedict that Tamar and I are planning to hold some kind of party before we leave. I’ll send cards and hope to see all of you there.”

Serena stayed only a little longer, making civil conversation while her sisters did their best to include Rosa in their chatter and games. For most of the time, Rosa looked more bewildered than happy, but Caroline felt her heart contract when Rosa returned Helen’s grin with a tentative but sweet smile.

*

Before she and Rosa began their customary afternoon walk, which was generally in the company of Mr. Benedict, Caroline took her courage in both hands and decided to beard the lion in his den.

A knock on his study door elicited no response. Since she could hear no movement inside, she assumed he must be elsewhere, so her second knock was half-hearted and purely token.

“Blast you, come in,” his voice growled from beyond the door. It did not bode well, but she could hardly run now.

Drawing a breath, she opened the door and entered.

Javan Benedict sat at his desk in his shirt sleeves, a magnifying glass in one hand and several plant specimens laid out in front of him. A notebook to his right displayed drawings and writings. All this, she took in at a glance before he stood up and reached for the coat on the back of his chair.

“I beg your pardon,” he said. “I assumed it was Williams.” He did not, however, sound terribly apologetic, more irritated. And his frown seemed chasm-deep. Any illusions she had harbored about a new closeness between them were being quickly eroded.

“I apologize for the interruption,” she said stiffly. “I merely wished to speak to you before I mention the scheme to Rosa.”

His frown deepened impossibly. “What scheme?”

“You suggested I go to Blackhaven on Saturday to buy new boots.”

The frown eased slightly. Beneath it, something flared in his grey eyes that caught at her breath. “I remember.”

“With your permission I would like to take Rosa with me, let her—”

“Out of the question,” he barked.

Caroline blinked. “I’m sure she would enjoy a day out, looking at shops and such, and there is an ice parlor in—”

“I said, it is out of the question.” He sat back down at his desk and picked up his pen.

Caroline struggled to control her indignation. “May I know why?” she managed.

He stared at her. “No. It is not your concern.”

Common sense dictated she leave it there but she couldn’t. “I beg your pardon,” she retorted. “I understood care of Rosa was specifically my concern!”

“Teaching Rosa is your concern. Her care is mine and mine alone.”

“Then I take leave to tell you, sir, you need to do better,” Caroline burst out. “The child does not speak and she is so isolated she does not even know how to play with others. How do you expect her to grow into a happy, responsible adult?”

He shot to his feet, his face white, his eyes blazing with fury—and behind that some awful pain that doused her temper like a bucket of water.

“Forgive me,” she muttered. “I know there are circumstances of which I have no knowledge and have no right to speak. But please, believe I wish to help.”