He tore his eyes away from Miss Richards and fixed them firmly on the girl seated across from him. He took a sip of his imaginary tea with eyes closed as if relishing in a perfectly brewed cup. But really he just wanted to get Miss Richards out of his line of sight even if just for a second. She was here to do her job, and he had decided to make a fool of himself on the ground playing make believe, so naturally she would be amused. Surely there could be nothing more charming than a great earl from an ancient family sitting on the rug of his drawing room, legs awkwardly cramped beneath a table much more suited to a six-year-old girl, diligently drinking nothing with as much pomp as possible.
Miss Richards resumed her seat and leaned forward so that she might be part of the conversation, which soon veered into very important discussions about favorite bonbons, which ribbon would best suit Pearl’s doll, and where the wind takes all the fallen leaves.
“That’s a very interesting question, Pearl. Where do you think the wind takes the fallen leaves?” Miss Richards asked, every bit as serious and sincere as if they discussed matters of the utmost political import.
Pearl lapsed into thoughtful silence, her head tilting to the side and her bottom lip pushed out in concentration. Solomon’s mouth pulled up to one side in a proud smile. His niece was indeed a very bright girl and, better yet, she seemed to be more comfortable by the day in her new home and new situation. He knew he had Miss Richards to thank for that.
“I think the wind scoops them up and brings them high into the sky,” Pearl mused, clearly pondering the possibilities very seriously.
“Ahh, I see.” Miss Richards brought her fingers to her chin in a thoughtful pose. “That could be very possible. What do you think happens to them while they’re up in the sky?”
Solomon watched and listened as the two ladies went back and forth on the subject, Pearl thinking carefully and formulating her answers while Miss Richards asked more questions and provided other possibilities. He had to admit that he was quite impressed. The young woman listened so intently that one would never have guessed she was being captivated by the ruminations of a child. She asked Pearl more questions, encouraging the girl to form her own opinions and figure out how best to express them.
“Where do you think leaves go, Miss Richards?” Pearl asked, taking a sip of tea. Solomon stifled a chuckle. She looked very poised for a six-year-old at times.
“Well, let’s see.” Miss Richards took a deep breath and turned to look out the large window as she gathered her thoughts. “I think they go to many different places. Up in the sky, down the path, over the hills. Maybe some even make it all the way to the ocean.” She looked back to Pearl with a warm, loving, thoughtful gleam in her eyes.
“The ocean! Is it very far?” Pearl perked up, her spine straight as an arrow. She’d likely never been to the ocean. Perhaps Solomon could arrange it in the future when she was a bit older.
Miss Richards smiled, clearly pleased by the girl’s interest. “From here, yes, it is a bit far. But I think it could be possible. Do you know what is the best thing about leaves, though?”
“Tell me, Miss Richards!” Pearl had abandoned the tea, neglecting to refill Solomon’s cup though he did not mind. Welcoming the break from tea, he indulged in some imaginary biscuits instead. Pearl leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. She was fascinated by Miss Richards’ words, eager to hear more.
“Do you remember how every autumn the leaves fall away and the trees stand bare each winter?”
“Yes. I always felt bad for the poor trees. They look quite cold.” Pearl pouted, her brow furrowed as she thought back on however many winters she could remember in her young mind.
Miss Richards smiled, the expression so soft and caring. “It may seem strange to us, but it is all part of their natural process. We need not be sad for the trees for long because each spring, the leaves return to their branches, fresh and green and strong.”
Pearl gazed at her governess with wonder, her mouth falling open slightly as she contemplated the changing of the seasons. Solomon admired the way Miss Richards explained these concepts in a way Pearl could grasp, always with unending patience.
“People can do the same when they’ve gone through a difficult time, but each person must do it as part of their natural process,” the governess continued, taking Pearl’s small hand in hers as if trying to convey the importance of her words through that comforting touch.
The girl nodded quietly before smiling up at Miss Richards. “I think I can be like a tree,” she said with soft confidence.
“I know you will be,” Miss Richards agreed. She opened her arms as Pearl stood from her small seat and leaned into her, picking her up and placing her on her lap. The governess sat with arms around her charge for a breathtaking moment. Solomon could only watch in silent awe.
Miss Richards must have sensed his gaze upon her. She glanced over to him and blushed, no doubt wondering if she’d overstepped her bounds with this familiar speech and action. Solomon quickly smiled and nodded for her to go about her business. He did not want to ruin his niece’s moment of peace. God knew the child needed as much of it as she could get.
Pearl soon became distracted by a curled strand of hair that hung over Miss Richards’ shoulder. She gave it a gentle tug to see it bounce and Miss Richards laughed, admiring Pearl’s soft waves. She confessed that her own curls were not natural but the product of long work every morning. This fascinated Pearl, who begged Miss Richards to let her see how it was done.
After the governess agreed that the girl could watch at some ambiguous point in the future, Pearl moved on to the light blonde shade of Miss Richards’ hair. Solomon remembered all too well how wonderfully her hair glowed in the sunlight and under chandeliers of a dozen candles. He remembered how he’d played with those loose curls before brushing his fingers against her cheek.
A heavy melancholy settled over Solomon’s entire body as he continued to watch the scene unfold before him. He felt nearly fatigued from the ache in his heart. At one point in time, Solomon had imagined Miss Richards—Juliet as he’d known her then—doing exactly this but with a child of their own.
Now that future was gone, only existing in his imagination, in nightmares in which he and Juliet had been together this whole time, that they’d married and had a family. He always woke to the reality that she had given up on him, leaving him with nothing but unbearable dreams of a life that would never be.
Miss Richards looked over her shoulder and Solomon snapped back to reality once more, the reality where he and this woman were employer and staff—not husband and wife, not even friends. She turned back to the girl on her lap.
“It’s just about time for your arithmetic lesson, my dear Pearl,” she said cheerily, giving Pearl a bounce with her knees. Still the child pouted, groaning.
“Miss Richards, arithmetic is so silly. I don’t need it or want it,” Pearl insisted, crossing her arms across her chest and fixing Miss Richards with a nearly intimidating glare.
The governess laughed, that lovely, charming sound filling Solomon’s ears to the brim. He mustered up a chuckle, both at Pearl’s behavior and also for his own sake, to drown Miss Richards out.
“If you will excuse us, my lord, we must be off to conquer this fearsome arithmetic,” Miss Richards said as she lifted Pearl off her lap and set her down on the ground.
Solomon nodded his approval, but the pair remained where they were. Miss Richards patted Pearl on the shoulder and when Pearl looked up at her, Miss Richards lifted her eyebrow—a silent instruction.
“Farewell, Uncle Solomon.” Pearl dipped into a grand curtsey, far grander than her uncle required, though he appreciated the gesture.
“Farewell, Pearl. I will see you before dinner with Grandmama if I don’t happen upon you before then.” Solomon bowed his head with as much reverence as his niece had shown.
“With Grandmama?” Pearl asked, the question tinged with a hint of fear or nerves.
“Yes, indeed. She’s
very eager to spend more time with you.” Solomon patted the girl’s head and smiled encouragingly. She returned his smile, excitement replacing her fear.
“Let’s go do arithmetic!” Pearl shouted, taking Miss Richards’ hand and tugging her along behind her. Miss Richards let her head tilt back as another laugh escaped her. She allowed herself to be pulled from the room by the little girl. Solomon shook his head at the amusing scene. At least he’d gotten Pearl to take interest in her arithmetic lesson. At least he could manage that much.
Solomon made his way to the door soon after to search for something else to occupy his time—perhaps a long ride on his prized palomino stallion—anything to get himself out of this house and reinvigorate his spirit a little. Ambrose had told him the last time Solomon had visited that he would not tolerate Solomon or anyone else moping about on his behalf. Solomon supposed he should take his younger brother seriously at some point.
He glanced down the hall before quitting the drawing room. Miss Richards and Pearl made their way toward the stairs, hand in hand and chatting the whole way.
Though Solomon longed to heed his brother’s request, accomplishing such a feat would be much easier said than done for more than one reason. When Ambrose and Florence did not plague his thoughts, Miss Richards easily took their place.
As Solomon watched the governess and his niece go, that same fatigue born of melancholy swept over him once more. Yet somehow this time it came back even stronger. He knew deep down that things were just too different now. The future he’d dreamed of was impossible. And, Solomon reminded himself, it should stay that way.
He pulled his shoulders back and lifted his chin, setting his mind on taking that ride. The sooner he came to terms with this fact, the better. Miss Richards would be here for the foreseeable future, after all.
Chapter 5
Small, fluffy flakes drifted down in meandering swirls outside the window of the morning room. Winter would begin in earnest soon. Juliet never cared much for winter. And she certainly did not care for it today as she sat in a plush chair, alone. Juliet glanced around the room, noting how well-appointed it was, just like every other room in the rest of the house—at least the ones she’d been invited into.
That was Lord Overton’s doing. Most would expect that the lady of the house would have more interest in choosing furnishings and paintings and placing each item just so. In actuality, the earl regarded home decoration as a favorite pastime.
A memory swam to the front of Juliet’s mind—a day years ago in London at the Baron of Neil’s townhome. Now she called the baron Henry or sometimes simply “brother.” Cecilia and Henry had been in the middle of their romantic courtship then, as had she and the earl. Henry had invited the Richards family to his home for dinner along with his best friend, Lord Overton. Henry had never been much of an entertainer or great socializer, especially when his nerves already plagued him enough in Cecilia’s presence. Lord Overton had taken the lead in showing the family around the house, explaining all the furnishings and paintings as they went. Anyone else would have thought that they had been invited into the earl’s home rather than the baron’s. She had found it so charming that Lord Overton was always so willing to come to his friend’s aid.
Juliet squeezed her eyes shut and willed the memory away. “See, idle hands lead to idle minds. And idle minds lead to dangerous places,” she chided herself. How desperately she wished she hadn’t been left alone for the day.
Lady Overton had requested to spend the day with Pearl. Of course, Juliet could not blame her in the least for this. The countess’s relationship with her granddaughter had improved slowly but surely, and she was well within her rights to do as she wished with the child. When Lady Overton had taken Pearl off with her after Pearl’s morning lessons, she had assured Juliet that she could use the morning room to her heart’s content.
Juliet’s heart was far from content. She had made herself comfortable in the morning room, her notebook opened on the side table ready for her to plan the following month’s lessons. Unfortunately, she had not gotten much work done besides writing “December” at the top of the page.
Truth be told, she missed Pearl. The girl had become more spirited over time and she displayed a very promising sharpness of wit and curiosity for her age. She spoke about her parents with Juliet often and sometimes Juliet comforted the girl through her sadness or listened happily as she shared beloved memories. If Juliet had any friend in this house, it would be Pearl.
Without her usual distractions, Juliet’s mind had chosen to take her on various other paths—many of them, she regretted to admit, involving Lord Overton. She supposed she should not have been surprised that her thoughts strayed to him so often. They always had, even during the recent years when she had not seen him at all. And now that she saw him nearly every day, usually from afar...she could not escape her feelings no matter how hard she prayed them away.
Juliet gazed out the window once more, watching the light snowfall. She doubted the snowflakes would even maintain their form long enough to land upon the ground and melt into the earth. Winter was such a cold and lonely season. Or perhaps it was just her that felt cold and lonely. Today’s snow would only give way to more intense storms and miles upon miles of sparkling white landscape.
She had never liked winter, preferring outdoor activities as much as she was allowed. Before she’d become a governess, Juliet had loved to take the family tilbury out even on cold days as long as the snow had not fallen too heavily. Her days were no longer so free. Even still, Juliet did not mind the constant occupation. She did not even mind the fact that her days were no longer her own.
Juliet simply loved her work. Her heart swelled with pride and satisfaction as she noticed the difference she’d made thus far in Pearl’s life and how much more she could make over the coming years—not just through education but through the healing process as well. Tears welled up in Juliet’s eyes, surprising her at the intensity of her emotion. She quickly brushed them away. She felt foolish for crying.
Pearl might have felt like a friend to Juliet, but she could not be. As a child and her student, Pearl needed to be taught basic knowledge, then eventually manners and the womanly arts. Even as Pearl grew up, they could be friendly, but they could never be friends.
The morning room door swung open and Juliet hurriedly straightened up in her chair, turning her face to wipe away any lingering tears. A footman entered with the tray of tea she had requested.
“Thank you so very much, Felix.” Juliet smiled warmly at the man as he approached, stopping before her with the tray clutched in his gloved hands. He stared down his long nose at Juliet, his gray eyes betraying what looked like annoyance.
“Ah!” She jumped and fumbled with her notebook, tucking away her supplies so that Felix had space to put the tray down on the table.
Juliet had been taking all her meals with Pearl thus far so Felix must have been surprised that she’d been the one to call for tea. Her stomach turned as Felix silently set the tray down next to Juliet, his face mostly impassive save for a slight twitch of a frown at the corner of his mouth. The footman did not seem to enjoy waiting on her.
“Is there anything else I can assist with, Miss Richards?” Felix asked as he took a step back, his voice low and slightly forced, if Juliet heard correctly.
Gathering up her bruised dignity, the governess gave a tenuous smile. “That will be all for now, Felix. Thank you.”
The footman gave a curt nod before striding from the room. He had not behaved impolitely to Juliet. But he hadn’t needed to. His expression and the strain in his voice spoke loudly enough. She was an outsider in this house and always would be.
Juliet sank back down into her chair and eyed the tray on her small table, her entire body heavy but especially her heart. She set about preparing her cup of tea. As the steaming liquid poured down, so, too, did Juliet’s tears.
This time, she did not try to stop them. She allowed herself to cry quietly, th
e weight of reality curving her narrow shoulders forward. The approach of winter brought with it the holiday season. She would soon have a terribly lonely Christmas. There would be no lessons with Pearl that day and she doubted the family would care to see her as they celebrated together. She had never spent the winter holidays away from her loved ones. Even worse, she did not even have a single friend she could spend the day with.
“Miss Richards, whatever is the matter?” asked the last voice Juliet wished to hear. She glanced up at the door to see Lord Overton just entering the room. She turned herself in the chair, facing the window so she could wipe her tears away as discreetly as possible. But it seemed that Lord Overton had witnessed enough of her shameful display of emotion. Juliet’s skin seared with embarrassment, her naturally rosy cheeks blooming from a lovely pink to a bright red.
“Miss Richards?” the earl asked again. Juliet swore she could hear an actual hint of concern in his voice. It surprised her, considering how well he’d been avoiding her.
On the one hand, she could not blame him. She only had herself to blame for the strange situation they’d found themselves in. On the other hand, Juliet desperately wished that Lord Overton would at least treat her normally, just like any other staff. He had said on that first day that he did not bear her any ill will. Yet he seemed to bear enough to steer clear of her as much as possible. He thought she did not notice the numerous times his figure had appeared in the doorway of the various rooms she and Pearl used for lessons, only to disappear just as quickly.
“Thank you for asking after my wellbeing, my lord,” Juliet replied, still facing the window and attempting to sound as cheerful as possible. But she could not keep the disheartened, embarrassed tremble out of her voice.
In truth, Juliet knew that if Lord Overton showed her even a morsel of kindness, her heart would yearn for him even more than it already did. Perhaps his cold, unfriendly, distant demeanor was really a blessing in disguise.
Embracing The Earl's Dream: A Clean Regency Romance (Resolved In Love Book 4) Page 5