Prudence by Elizabeth Bailey Page B

Hursley. I dare say I deserved to be taken to task.’
    ‘But I did not mean—’
    He threw up a hand. ‘Don’t let us fall into so foolish a dispute. We would be better employed if I embarked upon the matters I meant to discuss with you yesterday.’
    A look of alarm entered her face, and he frowned. ‘What is the matter? What have I said to frighten you?’
    ‘Nothing at all. I am not frightened, I assure you, sir.’
    She was a poor liar. And she was shy of him again, averting her eyes. His own fault, no doubt. He could not fathom why he had spoken to her in that fashion last night. He was inclined to think he’d had too much brandy. He recalled feeling outraged—why, he could not tell—to find her sitting alone in that freezing room with but a candle and her abominable kitten for company.
    If she must sit up at night, let her at least do so in a warm room! He trusted Polmont had carried out his instructions. Perhaps his housekeeper had not yet shown her the parlour?
    She was looking at him in a manner that reminded him irresistibly of a skittish colt, as if she could not decide whether she ought to run away, but was nevertheless intrigued enough to remain.
    ‘I merely wished to explain the circumstances that have led to your being employed here.’ Casually, he strolled down to the next window, and looked out. ‘My sister is a widow. She married an impecunious fellow who fancied himself a poet. Chillingham’s mother was Italian, and he inherited her artistic temperament. Or so he thought.’
    ‘Are the twins artistic too?’
    Rookham looked round, shrugging. ‘Possibly. I wouldn’t know. They arrived here a little before Christmas. They have been living abroad, you must know, travelling a good deal.’
    ‘Yes, they said they had been in Brussels and Austria as well as Italy.’
    ‘Among other places. Chillingham eked out a living teaching English wherever they went. Trixie—my sister—tells me that for the most part she undertook the children’s education herself. But there were governesses or tutors—French or Italian for the most part—whenever they could afford it.’
    He glanced round again, and found upon Miss Hursley’s features the most profound expression of compassion.
    ‘Poor things,’ she uttered in distressed tones. ‘How dreadfully hard it must have been for them.’
    Yes, he might have known she would react that way! ‘Spare your tears, Miss Hursley. Trixie assures me that she has thoroughly enjoyed her life. And you can see that the twins are none the worse for wear. Nor is my nephew.’
    ‘Ah, yes. Freddy, is it not?’
    ‘The twins told you? Freddy is eleven. I have packed him off to Eton. But I promised Trixie I would find a governess for the girls, so that they might be readied for a future in the English style.’
    Miss Hursley nodded in a sage fashion that sat oddly with her air of innocence. ‘I begin to see. The girls told me, sir, that their mother intended to remarry.’
    ‘Oh, yes.’ He knew he sounded cynical, but he was unable to help it. ‘Not, you understand, that she has anyone particular in mind. But she assures me that she will find a suitable candidate.’
    Miss Hursley blinked. ‘Oh.’
    ‘Is that all you can find to say?’
    He was aware that he was snapping, and noted the wariness in the governess’s eyes. He knew an impulse to retract, apologise. But before he could formulate the words, she was offering an answer.
    ‘To tell the truth, sir, the twins did suggest some such scheme, but I took it with a pinch of salt. Children are apt to misunderstand the activities of their elders.’ Uncertainty entered the grey eyes, and she became hesitant. ‘I must say that it seems a little…’
    Irritation flared, and he supplied her with the missing word. ‘Mercenary?’
    ‘Oh, no, I—’
    He cut her short. ‘Don’t let us quibble, Miss Hursley. It is mercenary. And quite unnecessary. I am well able to provide both for my sister and her