She stood and lifted Pearl onto her hip. This wasn’t as easily done as with her nephew, Joseph, who was only two, but Juliet found it manageable enough since Pearl was on the smaller side for her age. Juliet secured one of Pearl’s arms around her shoulder and held the other arm out, the girl’s arm stretched as far as it would comfortably go while Juliet’s remained bent almost into her own ribs to compensate for the stature of her partner.
Juliet might never again dance in a grand ballroom with handsome gentlemen, but she could be happy enough dancing in this schoolroom with a little girl who needed some laughter brought back into her life.
As she began to spin them around, slowly and carefully at first, Pearl’s once somber voice transformed into hesitant giggles. Encouraged by the smile on Pearl’s face, Juliet began to spin a little faster, the dance steps coming back to her easily from years and years of practice and use. Pearl laughed in earnest now, the sound ringing through the room freely and brightly. Juliet’s heart soared to see her look like a child again.
The door clicked open and Juliet jolted to a stop. Lord Overton had paused in the doorway, eyeing the governess and the girl curiously. Juliet quickly set Pearl down, patting her carefully done hair lest any strands had fallen loose from her modest bun during their dance.
“I’m very sorry, my lord. We just needed a brief distraction from studying so we could refresh our minds,” Juliet explained hurriedly, still catching her breath. She could feel heat simmer under the skin of her cheeks, an embarrassing blush betraying her guilt. Most employers would not take kindly to the governess engaging in silly, meaningless games with their child when they should have been in the middle of a reading lesson.
Lord Overton did not have a chance to scold Juliet or relieve her of her duties on the spot. Pearl ran forward and threw her arms around her uncle’s legs, rushing at him with such force that he stumbled backwards.
“I wasn’t sure at first, but I like Miss Richards so very much now. She cheers me up and makes reading so fun.” The girl happily chattered away as she beamed up at the earl, bestowing praise after praise upon Juliet. It was the most enthusiastically Juliet had seen Pearl speak about anything. Her smile, missing a tooth in the bottom row, never left her face. Her eyes, full of tears just minutes ago, now glowed with a lively cheer.
Juliet silently sent up a prayer of thanks that it seemed they had made progress in Pearl’s healing. She only wished that Lord Overton had waited a few more minutes before coming in so he could have seen them diligently at work instead of twirling about the room.
The earl looked down at his niece, surprise softening into love. He adored this child and wanted the best for her. Juliet had absolutely no doubt of that. Her heart ached to know that he could have looked at a child of their own like that. But that future was long gone. Juliet had made sure of that.
Lord Overton ruffled Pearl’s hair and knelt down before her, pulling her into a tight hug. “I am very happy to hear that,” he said with a warm smile on his face, the first smile Juliet had seen since she’d arrived. “I’m sure you will be learning real dance steps very soon. For now, it is time to return to reading.” He motioned to her desk on the other side of the room and Pearl skipped her way back to her seat.
Lord Overton summoned Juliet over with a pointed look. She quietly made her way to the door as Pearl’s voice floated up behind her, reading the next passage aloud. Juliet kept her gaze down, unable to match the man’s rigid stare.
“My lord, I am so sor—” She tried to apologize again, but stopped herself short when Lord Overton raised his hand to silence her.
“I do not care much about your methods...as long as Pearl is learning and healing,” he insisted, his voice low but firm. Juliet looked up and saw determination fueled by love in his eyes. He truly meant what he’d said.
They both looked over to the girl. She diligently pointed at the words on the page, reciting them out loud with confidence and near perfection.
“She is a very special and loving child,” Juliet whispered, not bothering to keep the admiration out of her voice. She might bear shame about many things, but she would never feel ashamed of caring for such a wonderful little soul, for helping her in some small way. Besides, she would be gone soon. That thought squeezed at her chest and her smile faltered. She suddenly did not want to leave, but it would look foolish and inconsistent if she changed her mind now after already telling Lord Overton of her plan.
He stepped closer to her side, almost as close as they had been in the orchard. Juliet turned to face him and she saw that intensity in his eyes again. But it was not hostile like it had been before. It was desperate, Juliet realized.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt your lesson. It’s just that this sudden feeling came over me that I should speak with you. And after seeing what I’ve just seen, I understand what I’m meant to do. I know you have already made your choice, but I implore you to stay, Miss Richards. For Pearl’s sake. I haven’t seen her smile like that since she arrived here. She clearly adores you and I do not wish to take another beloved person from her life.” Lord Overton spoke with a strange mixture of authority and pleading. Juliet noticed the way his chest rose and fell at a slightly higher speed, as if it had cost him something dear to say those words.
She looked back to Pearl, now flipping through the pages of the book curiously, peeking ahead. It must have cost him very much to say those words—perhaps his dignity, certainly his own relief and security. Juliet returned her attention to Lord Overton, expecting to see discomfort. She only saw love in his eyes, love for his precious niece, the last piece he had of his brother.
Before she could make up her mind, Lord Overton spoke. This time he spoke words Juliet had never expected to hear again.
“Please. Stay.”
Chapter 4
The atmosphere in the drawing room felt strange to Solomon. He supposed that was mostly his own doing. The ladies seated a few feet away seemed to be enjoying their afternoon without any worries. Mother and Miss Richards sat in their chairs, watching Pearl play at her short table, pouring nothing from a teapot into equally empty cups. She occasionally offered a cup to the two older women, who graciously accepted and pretended to sip at their imaginary tea.
It had been almost a month since that day Solomon had walked in on Miss Richards and Pearl in the schoolroom dancing together. He’d done well enough at avoiding the former for the most part. He supposed his luck would have to turn eventually and it had chosen today.
He and Mother had only been seated for a few minutes when she asked Solomon if he would object to summoning Miss Richards and Pearl to spend some time with them. Solomon resisted the idea at first, not only because of his desire to keep as much distance as possible between himself and the young woman, but also because his mother was still in a very frail state. He had explained to the dowager countess that he worried seeing her granddaughter would upset her and remind her of her loss. Mother had insisted that she wanted to spend more time with the girl, twisting the heavy black fabric of her skirt in her gloved fingers, also black. Solomon had relented then. Reminders of Ambrose’s death surrounded them every moment of every day, regardless of his daughter’s presence.
Solomon peered over the top of his newspaper at the ladies. Mother did look distressed, but she tried her best to hold herself together and interact with Pearl. After all, it was not Pearl’s fault that she had lost her son and daughter-in-law. Pearl did possess Ambrose’s big hazel eyes, light brown hair, and slightly square chin. The curls, round cheeks, and delicate nose all came from Florence, but it caught even Solomon off guard at times to see how much his niece looked like his brother.
Something about the scene before him charmed Solomon. He had always hoped for children of his own, but after his two heartbreaks, Solomon had built a tall wall of cynicism about the subject.
Yet watching Miss Richards now, attentively following along with Pearl’s imaginative game, Solomon could not stop a strange warmth from blo
ssoming through his chest. Miss Richards accepted every offered cup of tea with sincere thanks and put her lips to the edge of the cup, tilting it back carefully so as not to spill an invisible drop. Pearl’s face lit into a bright smile every time Miss Richards did this.
Mother, on the other hand, did not look quite as comfortable at playing tea party, though she did her best to bond with her granddaughter. She’d only had two sons so she did not know much about what kind of things little girls liked to do these days and, from the few stories Solomon had heard about the countess’s childhood, it had been very strict. The older woman glanced to the younger, observing her interactions with Pearl and trying to mimic them.
Miss Richards was just so natural with Pearl. Solomon had noticed it in every interaction, even if he only observed from a distance. Miss Richards possessed patience, kindness, and understanding in abundance. She could be firm when she needed to be, but she always treated Pearl as an equal rather than a nuisance to be forced into being a miniature adult. She allowed Pearl’s natural childish curiosities and thought processes to lead them, working within parameters that the girl would best understand. She had observed how Pearl learned and used that instead of pushing Pearl to learn in a certain way.
Solomon thought back to his own childhood nurses and tutors. He would have been very lucky to have someone like Miss Richards. His caretakers had all been harsh and rigid, forcing himself and Ambrose to turn into little men long before they could truly grasp what that meant. Or, Solomon admitted to himself with a quiet chuckle, perhaps he and Ambrose had been so troublesome they’d required a firmer hand.
Shaking the wrinkles out of his newspaper, Solomon returned his attention to the article before him. The article was not nearly as interesting as Miss Richards and Pearl—particularly the former. Try as he might, Solomon could not stop himself from glancing over his paper at them numerous times. But what they did not know would not harm them. It could only harm him.
“Did you know my papa doesn’t like tea? How silly!” Pearl declared to Miss Richards. Solomon’s attention snapped back to the ladies. He barely had enough time to stand, newspaper still clutched in his hand, before Mother fled from the room, hand over her mouth.
Solomon’s fears had come true. “My apologies, I must go see to her,” he hurriedly apologized to Miss Richards and Pearl as he rushed after the countess.
He spotted her down the hall nearly to the stairs. He ran over the noisy hardwood floor, easily catching up to her. Other men had often expressed their jealousy of his height and women swooned over it, but Solomon had never really understood all the fuss. At this moment, he was certainly glad of his height as his long legs carried him further in a shorter amount of time.
Solomon slipped his arms around his mother to keep her from hurrying away. She buried her face in his shoulder and he could already feel her tears flooding the fabric of his jacket. Her hands rested limply against his chest as he nestled his chin into her soft hair, more gray than red now.
“I love the girl, Solomon, and I want to spend more time with her, but this is all too hard still,” Mother mumbled against Solomon’s shoulder. Her voice trembled and her breath came in sharp, stuttering gasps.
“I know, Mother. I understand. She looks so much like him, doesn’t she? With just enough Florence to balance him out.” Solomon squeezed her closer. He knew that hearing about Ambrose still devastated Mother, but he thought it better to mention him occasionally and very carefully. Since he was already the topic of the current conversation, Solomon hoped it would be safe to speak of him in fond remembrance. They’d already had enough of the grief-stricken remembrance for today.
Mother’s breathing slowed down after a few moments. “Yes, she certainly does. Thank goodness she inherited Florence’s nose, though,” she chuckled through a sniffle. She did not directly mention Ambrose or say his name, but it was progress nonetheless, Solomon thought.
He gently took his mother’s arms in his hands and pushed her away from him slightly. He leaned down, remaining silent until she finally looked him in the eyes. “I think you could do with a rest, Mother.”
He smiled down at the woman who had given him life, who had guided him through as much of life as she could since a mother’s world was so different from her son’s. The woman who had suffered so much loss in her life. Solomon had suffered, too, but he’d learned how to cope with it through necessity. When Mother had fallen apart after Father died, perhaps never fully recovering, Solomon had had to step into his new title of Earl of Overton while doing everything he could to support his dear mother as well as Ambrose, who had been just as close to Father as Solomon. All this at the age of seventeen.
Together they made their way upstairs to Mother’s rooms, her arm about his waist and his arm over her shoulders, pulling her close in a protective manner. Solomon gave his mother another hug at her bedroom door, squeezing her so tightly that she could no longer contain her laughter. She always loved when he and Ambrose did that ever since they’d been little boys.
“I think I will nap for a while but...I hope to see Pearl before dinner. Mother smiled weakly. “I need to keep pushing forward if I want to have a relationship with my grandchild—with Ambrose’s daughter. I know I withdrew too much after your father died and I sorely regret it. I wish to avoid that again.”
Solomon gazed at the countess with admiration as he heard her words, heard her say his brother’s name. “I’m very proud of you, Mother. Don’t forget, you always have me. We’ll make our way together.” Solomon kissed the top of her head and saw her into her room, though he waited outside the closed door until the maid arrived just to be sure that someone would be nearby to care for her.
When Mother’s maid arrived he quietly warned her that it had been a difficult day for the dowager countess. He waited a few more moments after the woman disappeared into the room in case he was needed again. Once satisfied, he made his way back to the drawing room. Miss Richards’ voice gave him pause at the doorway.
“Oh Pearl, I know you are upset but everything will be just fine, I promise,” Miss Richards cooed gently, her voice somehow soothing even to Solomon though he knew he would be the last person intended for such words.
“Did I do something bad? I made Grandmama angry and now our tea party is over,” the little girl sniffled.
“No, you did not do anything bad. Remember what I taught you about mourning? Your Grandmama is mourning, too. Every person responds to it differently, but I know she is not at all angry with you. She just needs some time to herself for now. Besides, we can have a fun tea party with just the two of us.” Miss Richards spoke with such kindness that Solomon could not help admiring her wisdom and determination to see Pearl through this difficult season. He allowed himself to smile. No one would see it after all, so no harm done.
“But three is just the right number for a tea party, Miss Richards,” Pearl announced with a decidedly grown-up tone.
Solomon chuckled and came into the room. Miss Richards’ head snapped up as he approached. She always looked surprised to see him on his own property. Perhaps she had just learned to be on edge around him.
“I shall clean this up right away and bring Pearl back to the schoolroom or somewhere where we can leave you in peace.” That sweet, soothing tone Solomon had heard in the young woman’s voice evaporated. He stopped himself from grimacing at the thought that he would cause such a reaction in her. Her perception of him was no longer any of his concern.
As Miss Richards quickly gathered up the tea set, the glass softly clinking against each other now the only sound in the room, Solomon pushed back the chair his mother had occupied and did something that surprised even him. He sat on the ground at the other side of Pearl’s small tea table.
Miss Richards paused, a small stack of saucers in her hand. She stared at him quizzically. “My lord, what are you doing?”
“I will be better able to enjoy my tea from down here. If that is alright with you, Pearl, of course,” Solom
on announced, gesturing to his niece.
In truth, Solomon was no stranger to engaging in silly, unusual behavior for a man of his rank. He’d always been something of a jokester, willing to push some envelopes—much to his brother’s annoyance and his best friend Henry’s horror. Solomon somehow always managed to get them to go along with his schemes eventually. Not many well-bred men would sit on the ground in their fancy breeches just to appease a little girl. At one point in time, Solomon would have relished in doing something so unusual solely for the sake of fun. Now, he did most things for the sake of his niece. Though Solomon had to admit that some distant part of him missed his carefree days.
Pearl stared at her uncle in surprise, her already large eyes now seeming to take up almost half her face. Solomon stared back, patiently awaiting her verdict while Miss Richards had paused with the saucers still in her hands, her sky blue eyes flying from Pearl to Solomon and back again.
Finally, after what felt like an age, Pearl’s deliberation came to an end. Her round cheeks became even rounder as she grinned, revealing that one missing tooth in the bottom row. “Welcome to our tea party, Uncle Solomon!” she cried excitedly as she clapped her hands together, joy radiating from her face.
Solomon took up the nearest teacup and held it out to Pearl. “My sincerest thanks, most lovely and generous Miss Pearl Catley.” He bowed his head in reverence as the girl poured air from the teapot into her uncle’s cup.
Movement at the corner of his eye brought Solomon’s attention back to Miss Richards. She had placed the saucers back on the table after Pearl declared the tea party could resume, but now she tried to stifle a laugh, her lips pressed together causing that small dimple at the corner of her mouth to appear once more.
Solomon’s heart betrayed him yet again. He so longed to hear that sound, her perfect, airy laugh. He longed to be the cause of her laughter and smiles.
Embracing The Earl's Dream: A Clean Regency Romance (Resolved In Love Book 4) Page 4