told her nothing.
His voice stiffened. ‘You should ask Lord Brentmore about his wife. It is not my place to discuss such matters.’
She thought she was discussing Lady Brentmore and her children. Not the lady’s husband.
‘Was Lord Brentmore here when his wife died?’ She hoped so for the children’s sake.
‘He was abroad.’ Mr Parker took another bite. ‘Finishing up his diplomatic mission.’ He followed with a sip of wine. ‘He did travel back as soon as he could.’
That was something, at least. ‘I did not realise he was involved in diplomacy.’
‘During the war and Napoleon’s first exile.’ Mr Parker relaxed. ‘Very hush-hush, you know.’
She had a sudden vision of the marquess moving through dark alleys, meeting dangerous men. ‘He was away a great deal?’
‘For very long periods. I managed his affairs for him and the estate business while he was absent.’ He said this with a great deal of pride.
She supposed that the marquess’s absence from his children might be forgiven while he performed the King’s service. Perhaps she could not expect that every father show the same sort of devotion Lord Lawton lavished on Charlotte. Anna’s father certainly never showed her much affection. He’d always resented her living with Charlotte in the House, she’d supposed.
But surely the marquess must see how painful it would be for his children to lose their mother and their governess. Why had the man not come to comfort them? Why had he sent his man of business instead?
She only hoped her woeful lack of experience would not cause the poor little ones more trouble and sadness.
For the rest of the meal, Anna fell back on the conversational skills she and Charlotte had practised to prepare for Charlotte’s come out. Making pleasant conversation when one’s nerves were all in disorder was an achievement, indeed.
By the last course, however, all she desired was solitude. ‘Mr Parker, I wonder if you would excuse me. I am suddenly very fatigued. I believe I shall retire for the night.’
His expression turned solicitous. ‘Of course you are fatigued. A day’s carriage ride is vastly tiring.’
She rose from her chair and he stood, as well.
‘In fact,’ he went on, ‘I will bid farewell to you now. I am leaving as soon as the sun rises.’
She extended her hand to shake his. ‘I wish you a safe trip.’
She returned to her room and readied herself for bed without summoning Eppy to assist her. After washing up and changing into her nightdress, she extinguished the candles and sat for a long time in a chair, staring out the window overlooking extensive gardens, landscaped so naturally she wondered if they had been designed by Inigo Jones.
Beautiful, but unfamiliar.
She took a deep breath and forced her emotions to calm. She must accept what she could not change.
* * *
The next morning Anna woke to the sun shining in her window. She rose, stretched her arms and gazed out her window. The sky was clear blue and cloudless and the country air smelled every bit as wonderful as at home—at Lawton, she meant. This was home now.
When a maid entered to feed the fire in her fireplace, Anna introduced herself and asked the girl to have Eppy attend her when it was convenient.
A quarter-hour later, Eppy knocked on her door. ‘Good morning, miss,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Are you ready for me?’
Anna had already washed and donned a gown. ‘I just need a little assistance with the laces.’
‘Certainly!’ Eppy tightened her laces.
Anna looked over her shoulder. ‘Are the children awake?’
‘They are indeed, miss. Eating their breakfast in the nursery.’ She tied a bow.
‘I am anxious to make their acquaintance.’ Best to jump in right away.
Eppy frowned. ‘You are supposed to tour the house. Mrs Tippen was very clear about that.’
‘Do the children know I am here?’ she asked.
Eppy lowered her head. ‘I told them. I could not keep it secret any more.’
‘You did right, Eppy,’ Anna told her. ‘But I’ll not keep them wondering another minute. The tour of the house can wait.’
She followed Eppy to the nursery.
‘I’ve brought someone to meet you,’ Eppy called out as she entered the room. She turned to the doorway. ‘Your new governess.’
Anna put on a brave smile. ‘Good morning! I am Miss Hill.’
All she saw at first were two small faces with wide eyes. Both sat ramrod straight in their chairs. The little boy was dark like his father; the girl so fair she looked like a pixie.
Anna approached slowly. ‘I’ll wager you did not expect a new governess today.’
The girl relaxed a bit, smiling tentatively.
Anna turned to Eppy. ‘Will you do the introductions, Eppy? I should like to know these children.’
Eppy hurried over.
‘Miss Hill, may I present Lord Calmount.’ She squeezed his shoulder fondly. ‘We call him Cal.’
‘You call him Lord Cal,’ the girl corrected.
Eppy grinned. ‘That I do, because I’m your nurse.’
‘Do you know what you wish me to call you?’ Anna asked the boy.
His eyes remained fixed on her.
His sister answered. ‘He likes Cal or Lord Cal.’
Anna smiled at both of them. ‘Very well.’
Eppy put her hands on the girl’s shoulders and shook her fondly. ‘This little imp is Lady Dorothea—’
‘Dory,’ the little girl piped up.
‘Dory,’ Anna repeated. She looked at each one in turn. ‘And Lord Cal. I am delighted to make your acquaintance.’
Lord Cal remained as stiff as before, but little Dory now squirmed in her chair.
‘What plans did you have today,’ Anna asked, ‘if I had not arrived so suddenly?’
‘Cal said you came last night,’ Dory said. ‘He peeked out the door and he said you were our new governess, but how he knew we were to have a new governess, I cannot say.’ Her expression turned solemn. ‘Our other one died.’
Anna
