there’s every chance that over time, love would blossom.” She hurried on. “Besides, you really shouldn’t make spinsters sound like such a last resort. My aunt, Miss Jane Somerton, is both a spinster and very attractive. In fact, I could introduce you....”
“I’m acquainted with Miss Jane Somerton,” he said. “I have no wish to marry her.”
“Maybe you should stop thinking about what you wish, and think about what your children need,” Serena snapped. Drat. She braced herself for that forcible removal.
“Miss Somerton,” he growled. “If you don’t cease your impertinence this instant...”
“You’ll dismiss me?” she suggested. “Might I remind you, Mr. Granville, my sister’s marriage has put me in the position—rare for a governess—of having nothing to lose. While your children have everything to gain.”
Silence. Should she take that as victory?
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Miss Somerton...”
Merely regrouping, then. Serena braced herself.
“I don’t understand why you feel compelled to comment on my domestic arrangements, when you’re no longer employed here,” he said. “Nor why these outrageous views have come upon you so suddenly.”
He sounded so confused, she felt almost sorry for him. “I’ve felt this way since the day I arrived,” she admitted. “But until now, I’ve been more subtle in my approach.”
“You’ve been subtle?” he said incredulously.
“You possibly haven’t noticed that I’ve been extending the time you spend in your daily greetings and good-nights to the children.” She was rather proud of having stretched that stiff, formal five minutes to a whole seven minutes. Still stiff and formal, but one step at a time.
“How Machiavellian of you.” He appeared to be laughing at her.
“There are many fathers who spend a great deal of time with their children and find it very rewarding,” Serena said coolly. Her own papa was a perfect example, but she knew other families of Quality where the father enjoyed the company of his offspring.
“Again,” Granville said, “I wonder why you’ve taken it upon yourself to try to introduce me to their ranks.”
Maybe she should tell him at least part of the truth.
“Do you believe in second chances, Mr. Granville?”
“In theory,” he said guardedly. “Is there something else you need to confess?”
“I’m talking about you,” she said. “Your family has suffered loss, but you have a chance to build a loving home for your children. If only you’ll take it.”
“And you intend to force me to take this chance you’ve conjured up in your imagination?” He scowled. “If you must indulge your penchant for good works, Miss Somerton, I suggest you go home and feed the poor. Surely they’re in greater need of second, third and even fourth chances than I am.”
“The poor are well provided-for in Piper’s Mead,” she said. “My sister Isabel practically runs the orphanage, and Charity, my youngest sister, knits for the babies. Mama grows vegetables for the elderly—”
He held up a hand. “Your family can’t have such a monopoly on good works that there was nothing left for you but to travel all the way to Leicestershire to inflict a second chance on my family.”
“Of course not,” Serena said levelly. “I chose this position—” he blinked, as if he hadn’t realized she’d had a choice “—because I believe this is where I’m meant to be.” She knew in her head that she’d been forgiven the foolish mistake she’d made years ago. A mistake entirely unworthy of her upbringing, which would grieve her parents sorely if they knew of it. But in her heart, she despaired of receiving a second chance. If she could help the Granville family grasp their chance, then maybe God would send one her way.
“Grateful though I am for your efforts,” Dominic Granville said, “your assistance isn’t required. Let me remind you, to put your mind at rest before you depart, my children have an aunt right here in this house, who loves them very much and who, as I’ve said, will likely always be here with us.”
Serena hesitated. To speak bluntly about Marianne Granville seemed harsh, but... “If you’re suggesting Miss Granville will play a more active role in the children’s upbringing than she does now, you’re quite wrong.”
His mouth tightened. “I’m not suggesting anything to you at all. It’s none of your business.”
“Are you saying that when Hetty makes her come-out into society,” Serena persisted, “she will be chaperoned by your sister?”
He eyed her with hearty dislike. “Not necessarily. Hetty’s come-out is six or seven years away.”
“Will your loyalty to your wife vanish in that time?” she asked.
“Of course not.”
“Even if you could force your sister into the role of chaperone, I doubt you’d have the stomach for it,” Serena said. Not that Mr. Granville was in any way soft, but his attitude toward his sister was rightly protective. “I understand you have no other suitable female relatives. It’s possible you have a female friend who might help—” a flicker of doubt crossed his face “—but a girl’s come-out is such a...a complicated time that you’ll want someone very close to your daughters involved.”
Serena drew a breath. “Which means you’ll at some stage need to marry, if only to help your daughters find their place in society. I say, do it now and give them all the benefits of a loving stepmother.” She spread her hands as if nothing could be simpler. It didn’t take a mathematical genius to add two and two, did it?
She could see from his distracted expression that he was performing the calculation himself and coming up with the same, unpalatable answer.
Then he blinked, as if to dismiss his conclusion. When he spoke, the set of his shoulders, the jut of his jaw, told Serena he had no intention of discussing this further. And every intention of ignoring her advice. “Prepare to leave this house on Monday, Miss Somerton. My own carriage will convey you to your parents’ home.” His offer of transportation likely spoke as much of his desire to be sure he was rid of her as it did of his determination to acknowledge her social standing.
Serena bowed her head, defeated.
She had failed.
* * *
Dominic found his sister in the greenhouse. She’d commandeered its southwest corner for her botanical project, a move that Gladding, the head gardener, tolerated with an air of long-suffering. Dominic called a greeting from the doorway, to give Marianne a moment to adjust to his presence. By the time he reached her, her face was rosy. But not bright red, as it would have been if he’d startled her.
“So this is the new arrival.” He scrutinized the gray-green leaves, if one could call the sharp-tipped spikes that, of the plant she was digging in. “It survived the journey, then.” Just as well, since it had cost a small fortune.
“If
