“I cannot abide most of Simon’s friends. They are all abominably full of themselves,” Lady Josephine complained from beneath her parasol.
“You would not say the same of your brother, and I cannot believe he surrounds himself with men so different from himself.” Emma paused before an attractive display at the grocer—summer fruits were artfully arranged to spill out a tipped basket.
The children had stopped just ahead to speak to a boy about the same age as Lady Isabelle. Even Lord James looked happy to see the youth.
“We ought to bring your mother some cherries,” Emma remarked. “These are the first I have seen this season.”
“Oh, that is a fine idea. Go inside and purchase whatever they have.” Josephine waved her friend and companion inside the shop, then she turned her attention to Alice. “You must think me dreadful, complaining about Simon’s friends this way. My brother is a man of good character, but sometimes I feel as though the men surrounding him are only his friends because of his title.”
“An understandable suspicion,” Alice admitted, keeping watch over the children from the corner of her eye. “A future duke holds nearly as much power as a prince. I am certain he is a discerning gentleman, and your concern for him does you credit, my lady.”
Lady Josephine rested her parasol upon one shoulder. “I feel that I am forever questioning the motives of others. I suppose I have a suspicious nature. For instance, I should dearly like to know what has become of your friendship with Mr. Gardiner.” She narrowed her eyes, an impish gleam to them.
With her cheeks warming, Alice struggled to sound unmoved by the mention of Rupert’s name. “I suppose you could say it is going well. His project continues to be of interest.”
“His project.” Lady Josephine twirled the handle of her umbrella. “I rather wonder if he has not made wooing you his project, Alice.”
“My lady,” Alice protested, feigning a gasp.
“He speaks of you often, though I can tell he does not realize it.” Lady Josephine shaded her eyes to peer into the grocer’s shop, likely checking on Emma’s progress with the cherries. “Only last evening at dinner he said how fortunate my brother and sisters are to have you seeing to their education.”
“He only meant to be kind.” Alice tugged her wrist-length gloves more snuggly beneath the long sleeves of her chocolate colored gown.
Emma returned, the basket on her arm now bearing a smaller container of cherries. “I asked for two pounds of cherries to go to the kitchens, but I brought these to give to your mother now.”
The children were fetched, and they all began the walk back to the castle. Lord James hurried ahead of all of them, intent on taking a purchase of candy up to his room to squirrel it away.
The ladies kept up a conversation on neighbors and cherries, and Alice felt, for the first time in ages, as though she belonged. Yes, her position as governess put her beneath both ladies in her company, but they did not treat her as a lesser person. The children were happy. Her life had purpose.
And, most of all, Rupert had feelings for her. He wished to court her. She smiled to herself, joy in her heart as the castle came into view upon the hill.
Almost, Alice could imagine herself a princess arriving at the grand home, stepping out as a guest rather than an employee.
“We must take the cherries to Mama,” Lady Josephine said when they entered the smaller foyer, a butler and maid taking their things. “Then we shall come have tea with you, Alice.”
Alice followed behind Lady Isabelle and Lady Rosalind. They entered the children’s wing at the same moment Lord James dashed through his door. The girls disappeared into their room to lay aside their own purchases.
When Alice entered the schoolroom, she immediately noted the vases of flowers in the middle of the large circular table. A leather folder, thick with drawings, waited for her, too.
She put her hand on the leather flap and pulled it over, holding her breath in anticipation of a letter or note accompanying the sketches. Though they were hardly love letters, she treasured each word Rupert wrote to her.
But there was nothing written accompanying the sketches.
Alice blinked and moved the pictures, fanning them out, but still saw no note. Hm. Perhaps Rupert wished to give her instruction in person.
Then she examined the flowers, smiling to herself all the while. There were several wild flowers she would need to color in first. They would droop and lose their colors before the more cultivated blooms from the gardens.
Lady Josephine and Emma arrived at nearly the same moment as the maid bearing the tea tray. Alice opened the door wide and stood aside to allow everyone inside.
“Oh, Alice.” Emma stopped beside Alice, eyebrows high upon her forehead. “Do you know why Mr. Gardiner left in such a hurry?”
For the space of a heartbeat, Alice’s world froze. “What do you mean?”
“Mama told us he took his leave of the duke not a quarter hour ago,” Lady Josephine said from where she had already seated herself at the table. “Oh, dear. We assumed you would know the details, so I did not ask Mama for more information.”
“No.” Alice’s body went cold, her mind numb. “But—Mr. Gardiner left? The castle?”
Emma’s expression changed to a deep frown. “He returned home. His father’s estate is sixteen miles west of here.”
“He took his valet, and his things, Mama said.” Lady Josephine started pouring out for them, wearing a frown of her own. “I felt certain he would have told you he was leaving. Perhaps he sent a note?” She looked to the flower sketches.
“Not that I have seen.” Alice walked slowly to the table, lowering herself into a chair, not truly aware of her actions. “The flowers and sketches came without a note. I had no idea he planned to go anywhere. He did not tell me anything.”
After a moment of unsettling quiet, Lady Josephine passed Alice a cup of tea. “I shall ask Papa for you.”
That idea startled Alice into thought at last. “No. Please, do not trouble the duke on my account.” She forced a smile, though she felt how the edges of her mouth trembled. “I am certain there is no cause for concern. Mr. Gardiner must be needed at home.”
But why had he not left her a note? Or some word of his departure? Could he not have waited to take his leave of her? A quarter of an hour meant he had left the house only minutes before she returned from the outing with the children.
Their conversation the day previous, his gentle words and open affection, had given Alice every reason to hope—to hope he meant what he said. But to leave the duke’s home, and their project, with nary a word of instruction or reassurance of his return—
Stop being silly, Alice told herself sternly, hiding her fear behind the rim of her teacup.
Emma’s expression changed from one of curiosity to something more like sympathy. She turned her gaze to the flowers on the table and reached for one, lightly touching an unfurled leaf. “What is this flower called, Alice? I cannot say that I know it.”
Alice cleared away her thoughts, promising herself she would not dwell on a thing she could not know.
Why had Rupert left without so much as a word of farewell? Not even a written one?
Chapter 19