“It will not.” He came to his knees, too, and caught her hand before she could remove the cloth from the basket. She forced herself to raise her gaze to his. The earnest expression in his deep brown eyes nearly compelled her to believe him. “And if you believe the risk is too great, you have but to tell me and I will intercede on your behalf. Or—” His cheeks reddened, and he lowered his gaze to their hands. He removed his rather slowly. “Or you may withdraw your assistance now, Miss Sharpe. I will make it right with His Grace, if you wish to forget the whole of it.”
She took the cloth off the top of the frogs, then stared down into it for a long moment. They were so still. Barely moving even to breathe. The poor things had been trapped too long indoors, away from their home and all that they knew. She tipped the basket slowly on its side, forcing the animals inside to move and then catch themselves upon the grass.
They started at once for the water, some faster than the others, but all perked up the moment she took the basket away. She only had to give one an extra nudge with her finger, and it surprised her by leaping farther than the rest, into the water.
Alice could not stop herself from smiling as the little creatures paddled around, then disappeared beneath the surface. They would recover, and she would teach Lord James the importance of leaving creatures in their natural homes.
“They are surprisingly delicate creatures, frogs.”
Alice glanced from the corner of her eye at the gentleman beside her. “Indeed, sir.”
He turned his expectant gaze back to her. “And yet, resilient enough to spend as much time underwater as a fish, for all that they lack gills and breath air.”
She nearly smiled at that. “I suppose so.”
He picked up the basket and stood, offering her his hand in assistance. Alice considered his bare palm a moment before placing her own inside of it, her gloves tucked into her notebook.
“You have yet to tell me if I am forgiven, Miss Sharpe.” He spoke softly, his hand still holding hers. “If I must earn your good favor—”
The moment had turned too tense, too serious, for a governess and a gentleman. Alone. In a secluded garden. Mr. Gardiner possessed no little amount of charm, and he knew it. But Alice had hoped her irritation with him would make her immune to such things.
Apparently, she was as susceptible as before. Her shoulders sagged. “You are forgiven, Mr. Gardiner. You are guilty of nothing more than true dedication to your studies. How could I, a woman whose purpose is to educate others, ever disapprove?”
He brightened, his eyebrows raising and his wide smile returning. “Thank you.”
“And you need not make my excuses to His Grace. I will assist in your project, as I said before.” She withdrew her hand from his, folding both arms over her chest and hugging her notebook to herself. “I will do my best to help, sir.”
“Only as your schedule allows.” He nodded solemnly, the grin fading to something more serious. “I will not take advantage of your time unfairly. I promise.”
Although Alice had a flicker of doubt over the fairness of the situation, she did not begrudge him the use of her time. Not really. She had read some of her cousin’s scientific journals. She understood the desire to study the natural world.
As she walked back up to the castle, empty basket in hand, Alice hoped she had not agreed to more than she could reasonably manage.
Chapter 9
Miss Arlen arrived for tea with a new guest in tow. Alice had done no more than glimpse Lady Josephine since the night she’d had dinner with the duke’s guests. When the dark-haired, graceful woman appeared in the doorway, Alice curtsied deeply.
“Lady Josephine, it is a pleasure to see you this afternoon.”
The duke’s eldest daughter returned the curtsy with the exceptional grace one would expect in a duke’s child. “Thank you, Miss Sharpe. I do hope you will excuse my rudeness, but when Emma told me how much she enjoyed your company, I had to come and make your acquaintance.”
Alice darted a glance at Miss Arlen, whose tight-lipped smile and dancing eyes suggested her amusement rather than any regret.
“That is most kind of Miss Arlen.” She looked over her shoulder where the children were gathered. One side of the large schoolroom was set up rather like a parlor, to encourage the children and teach them how best to behave in such a setting. They would take their tea there.
When the children caught sight of their sister, they visibly brightened.
“Josie, you’ve come to take tea with us?” Lord James asked, bouncing to the edge of his chair.
“We thought you would be with Mother and Grandmama.” Lady Isabelle moved to the far side of her couch and patted the seat next to her in clear invitation.
Lady Josephine came into the room and sat between Lady Isabelle and Lady Rosalind. She put one arm around each of them in a brief embrace. “I had much rather be here, especially since there are no guests to entertain at present. Next week things will be different again. But here I might nibble on cakes without Grandmama remarking on what they might do to my figure.”
The girls laughed, and Lord James bounced again in his chair. “We have such good cakes, too. Miss Sharpe doesn’t mind it like the last governess.”
Despite her soldier-like stance, Alice returned his grateful grin. “I should not like to have bread and butter with my tea every day. I cannot imagine why children should have to do so.” She looked to Miss Arlen, whose relaxed posture gave Alice leave to stand at her ease.
Perhaps she need not fear Lady Josephine’s scrutiny as she thought she must, but wisdom dictated that she tread carefully. “Do sit, Miss Arlen. The tea will be here in a few moments, I’m certain.”
“Thank you.” Miss Arlen drifted to one of the remaining empty chairs. “Lady Josephine and I were discussing the deplorable lack of women our own age in the last round of guests. There were any number of matrons, and a few of their sons, but no unmarried women.”
Had they come in search of more company? Alice lowered herself into her favorite chair—a battered gray seat modeled after Queen Charlotte’s sitting room chairs, she had been told. It was comfortable, for all that it bore a few scuffs from its presence in the nursery.
“I am afraid I am not much better than a matron. The children will attest to that.” She gestured to the girls. “I am not the least bit amusing, am I?”
The girls giggled, trading a secretive glance with one another.
“Not amusing in the least,” Lady Isabelle declared with amusement.
“Absolutely the strictest of women,” Lady Rosalind put in.
Lord James pushed himself back into his chair and crossed his arms, eyes sparkling with the joke. “Dull as dishwater. That’s Miss Sharpe.”
Lady Josephine cocked one regal eyebrow at her younger siblings. “Dear me. Not amusing, strict, and dull. It seems Miss Arlen has misled me most terribly. What have you to say for yourself, Emma?”
The companion shrugged her delicate shoulders. “I cannot account for it, my lady. It seems I was horribly mistaken. When last I was here, Miss Sharpe made the opposite impression.”
Alice clapped her hands at the performance, fighting back her own laughter. “Wonderful, children. That is precisely what you must say should anyone ask if your governess is strict enough.” She cast Lady Josephine an apologetic nod. “I have told them if people think I am too wonderful, they might not believe I am doing my job properly. But we do attempt to find amusement in our studies.”