her to school.’
‘Do that and she’ll feel completely rejected.’ Rachel curled both hands round her cup. ‘As I see it, everyone loves Melanie but nobody wants her. She needs someone to spend time with her, helping her, doing things with her.’ She made a gesture with her hands. ‘Oh, I know Ben is very good, he talks to her a lot, but he isn’t really helping her.’ She looked up at Richard. ‘What none of you seem to realise is all that’s wrong with Melanie is that she’s missing her mother. She needs loving, and showing she’s loved.’
As soon as she had spoken the words Rachel could have bitten her tongue out. Seeing the agonised expression that crossed Richard’s face she bent her head. ‘I'm sorry. Forgive me, I shouldn’t have said that.’
Richard shook his head. ‘If only you knew ....’ He seemed to pull himself together with an effort. ‘Is there any more coffee?’ he asked.
Rachel refilled his cup, her heart heavy. At this moment he looked so vulnerable she would have liked to put her arms round him and comfort him, to hold him close to her heart.
‘What are you going to do now that Rose isn’t here?' he asked cutting across her thoughts.
‘Why, I’m not sure. I haven’t really had time to decide.’ She got up and went over to the window, looking out on the gathering dusk. ‘I suppose I’ll go back home. Rose is being well looked after. If she needs me when—if she comes out of hospital perhaps I could come back for a while. I have to go back and pick up the threads sometime.’ She bowed her head as she spoke and her voice was low. But it was not the thought of going home that upset her, she realised that, it was the thought of leaving Richard Duncan behind. And he would barely notice that she had gone.
He got up from his chair and came and stood behind her, resting his hand on the window frame by her head,
‘You could stay,’ he said quietly. ‘You could remain here as Melanie’s governess—I don’t like that word, but you know what I mean—win her confidence, teach her, help her.’ his voice dropped, ‘perhaps even grow to love her.'
Rachel was silent, conscious of the man standing so close behind her that if she moved her head it would rest on his shoulder. She held her breath, afraid to speak in case her emotions gave her away.
Richard moved away and went over to the table. ‘Of course, it’s what my father has always wanted, for Melanie to be educated at home, so it would please him if you agreed.’ He sighed, adding as an afterthought, ‘Goodness knows, I seem to do little enough to please him these days.’ His tone became more businesslike. ‘I’m sure we can come to an amicable agreement over salary etc. You would, of course, live at Kilfinan House.’
For a long time Rachel didn’t speak. She stood watching the darkness gradually enveloping the mountains, her thoughts in a turmoil. She should say no. She should go home, leave this place that was so beautiful it was almost unreal, and this man who having asked her to stay, would only regard her presence as a sign of defeat—of having given in to his father over Melanie’s education. To stay would be to invite heartbreak all over again.
‘I’ll stay,’ she whispered, adding, ‘For Melanie’s sake.’
CHAPTER FOUR
Rachel woke next morning with mixed feelings. She had agreed to move into Kilfinan House right away and begin looking after Melanie, but she couldn’t help wondering if she was doing the right thing. To actually live under the same roof as Richard Duncan could only be to torture herself—exquisite torture though it might be—knowing he was there, aching to be held in his arms, while he was scarcely aware of her existence except as governess for his little daughter. Governess. She must keep reminding herself of that Victorian word, conjuring up, as it did, a picture of a nobody—neither servant nor master, belonging neither ‘upstairs’ nor ‘downstairs’.
She packed
‘Do that and she’ll feel completely rejected.’ Rachel curled both hands round her cup. ‘As I see it, everyone loves Melanie but nobody wants her. She needs someone to spend time with her, helping her, doing things with her.’ She made a gesture with her hands. ‘Oh, I know Ben is very good, he talks to her a lot, but he isn’t really helping her.’ She looked up at Richard. ‘What none of you seem to realise is all that’s wrong with Melanie is that she’s missing her mother. She needs loving, and showing she’s loved.’
As soon as she had spoken the words Rachel could have bitten her tongue out. Seeing the agonised expression that crossed Richard’s face she bent her head. ‘I'm sorry. Forgive me, I shouldn’t have said that.’
Richard shook his head. ‘If only you knew ....’ He seemed to pull himself together with an effort. ‘Is there any more coffee?’ he asked.
Rachel refilled his cup, her heart heavy. At this moment he looked so vulnerable she would have liked to put her arms round him and comfort him, to hold him close to her heart.
‘What are you going to do now that Rose isn’t here?' he asked cutting across her thoughts.
‘Why, I’m not sure. I haven’t really had time to decide.’ She got up and went over to the window, looking out on the gathering dusk. ‘I suppose I’ll go back home. Rose is being well looked after. If she needs me when—if she comes out of hospital perhaps I could come back for a while. I have to go back and pick up the threads sometime.’ She bowed her head as she spoke and her voice was low. But it was not the thought of going home that upset her, she realised that, it was the thought of leaving Richard Duncan behind. And he would barely notice that she had gone.
He got up from his chair and came and stood behind her, resting his hand on the window frame by her head,
‘You could stay,’ he said quietly. ‘You could remain here as Melanie’s governess—I don’t like that word, but you know what I mean—win her confidence, teach her, help her.’ his voice dropped, ‘perhaps even grow to love her.'
Rachel was silent, conscious of the man standing so close behind her that if she moved her head it would rest on his shoulder. She held her breath, afraid to speak in case her emotions gave her away.
Richard moved away and went over to the table. ‘Of course, it’s what my father has always wanted, for Melanie to be educated at home, so it would please him if you agreed.’ He sighed, adding as an afterthought, ‘Goodness knows, I seem to do little enough to please him these days.’ His tone became more businesslike. ‘I’m sure we can come to an amicable agreement over salary etc. You would, of course, live at Kilfinan House.’
For a long time Rachel didn’t speak. She stood watching the darkness gradually enveloping the mountains, her thoughts in a turmoil. She should say no. She should go home, leave this place that was so beautiful it was almost unreal, and this man who having asked her to stay, would only regard her presence as a sign of defeat—of having given in to his father over Melanie’s education. To stay would be to invite heartbreak all over again.
‘I’ll stay,’ she whispered, adding, ‘For Melanie’s sake.’
CHAPTER FOUR
Rachel woke next morning with mixed feelings. She had agreed to move into Kilfinan House right away and begin looking after Melanie, but she couldn’t help wondering if she was doing the right thing. To actually live under the same roof as Richard Duncan could only be to torture herself—exquisite torture though it might be—knowing he was there, aching to be held in his arms, while he was scarcely aware of her existence except as governess for his little daughter. Governess. She must keep reminding herself of that Victorian word, conjuring up, as it did, a picture of a nobody—neither servant nor master, belonging neither ‘upstairs’ nor ‘downstairs’.
She packed
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