It wasn't, though – it never turned out that way. We left it too late. I left it too late.
Sighing, he turned and walked toward Stephen's voice. When he crested the small hill, he found Stephen solemnly shaking hands with a tiny girl, who looked so much like Isla, it almost stopped Richard's heart. This must be the oldest daughter, Ailsa. She had her mother's auburn hair, but her eyes… Those were Lucas's green eyes.
The younger child was nowhere in sight, but Ailsa was smiling as she spoke to Stephen. Despite her black clothes and evident sorrow, she obviously felt the same pull toward Stephen so many others did. The same pull that had drawn Richard to him when they were schoolboys.
"You have very strange skin, Mr. Stephen," the little girl said in an accent that stung like needles. She was obviously Scottish, but someone had been giving her lessons to pronounce words in the English fashion. She sounded exactly as Isla had all those years ago. "But it's very pretty. How do you make it shine like that? Is it brown all the time?"
"Ailsa!" An undoubtedly English lady's voice scolded from behind her. "Don't comment on such things! It's unseemly."
Stephen started to laugh. "Oh, don't worry, Miss Kathy," he reassured her, winking at Ailsa. "I've heard much worse."
Richard looked up to see who had spoken. A woman stood where she hadn't before, also dressed in mourning. There was a younger child in her arms – the younger girl, Davina, he supposed. Given Stephen's form of address, he assumed she must be the children's governess.
She was lovely. Hazel eyes and gently sun-bronzed skin, this was a woman unafraid of hard work. She was tall and slim, her blonde hair tied modestly under a mourning cap. Judging by the way Davina and Ailsa looked at her, it was clear they adored her.
Stephen looked up, noticing him for the first time. "Oh, Richie, there you are. Little ones, meet your Uncle Richard, the Duke of Beresford."
Ailsa turned to him shyly. "It's good to meet you, Lord Uncle Beresford," she said in a prim little voice that almost caused Richard to smile. "Are we gonnae – I mean, are we going to live with you?"
The answer was yes, of course, though he had little idea of how it had come to that. Isla had brothers, but they were all married and scattered around Scotland, with their own wives and children. Her father and mother, the girls' grandparents, were too old and bereaved to raise them.
Which only leaves me.
"I believe so," Richard replied. He hesitated, then a little awkwardly added, "You may call me Uncle Richard if you wish. May I call you Ailsa?"
The girl flushed, obviously pleased by the question. "You may," she said. "Mr. Stephen wouldn't tell us his title."
"Lord Gordon I might be, but I'm practically family," Stephen commented with a wink. "Just Stephen will do." He somehow now had Davina in his arms, who was pulling at his curls curiously, despite the governess's best efforts.
The lovely woman accompanying the girls covered her mouth, perhaps hiding a smile. Richard examined her again and saw the redness around her eyes. She'd obviously been weeping for the departed. "Pardon me, I didn't catch your name, Miss," he lied.
I certainly won't be addressing such a well-spoken young lady as Miss Kathy. Not all of us can get away with such charming disrespect as Stephen!
"My name is Kathy … Wright, Your Grace," she replied politely, giving a proper but brief curtsey. He wondered why she had stumbled over her surname but supposed it may have been merely her grief muddling her tongue. "It is a pleasure to meet you."
"You’re an Englishwoman,” he observed.
“I am,” she agreed. “My father was a minor lord. When my marriage prospects fell through, I came here to my friends, so that I might help raise and then teach their children.”
“So, you are their governess?” Richard asked. He’d assumed as much only a few moments before, and yet he still felt a little surprised. Her obvious bond with these girls felt more profound than that, somehow. If he didn’t know the truth, he might have suspected she was their mother.
“I am, and their nurse before that,” she replied with a smile. She had an attractive smile – not too broad, not too small, but enough to light her face. She was quite pretty, though, in an intriguing way. She wasn’t particularly beautiful, but she was far from ugly. Still, something about the gentleness of her face made her too intriguing to look away. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace. And, actually, I have a request for you.”
Richard saw Stephen look around in surprise, but he ignored his friend, his attention still fixed upon Kathy. He wasn’t used to women speaking so forwardly, but it certainly was not a bad thing. “What request would that be, Miss Wright?”
She curtseyed briefly again. “I wondered if I might not continue my appointment as the girls’ governess in your London home,” she said. “I have known both almost since birth, and I have grown very attached to them. It would be my honor to continue seeing to their education.”
Richard hesitated. To hire a young woman with no background and no parents was a risky move, even if she clearly knew and cared about the children. But then, his brother and Isla had thought her good enough. Who was he to say otherwise?
He was still debating when little Ailsa said, “Excuse me, Uncle Richard, but I think it would be awfie … awfully good of you to accept. Davina and I, we like having Miss Kathy around. She’s family.”
Richard glanced at Stephen, who shrugged. When the little girl put it like that, it didn’t really leave Richard with much of a choice. Besides, he had to admit, he worried about how he was going to raise them. How could he put aside his own guilt and confused feelings of grief to help two children deal with their own mourning? What did he know of young girls?
“If you do not mind moving back to England, Miss Wright, I would be happy to offer you a position in my household,” he said.
He saw joy spark in the woman’s eyes, but there was something else there too, something too quick for Richard to identify. He fancied it looked almost like fear … but that didn’t make any sense. No doubt, his sorrow was confusing his mind.
“Thank you, Uncle,” little Ailsa said. She held out her hand so formally that Richard almost wanted to laugh, but he held it in as he took the small hand and shook it.
Davina finally clambered down from Stephen, walking over to Richard with a look of open curiosity on her face. “We’re gonnae live with you?”
“You are,” Richard agreed. “Your father was my brother. Is that agreeable to you?”
The four-year-old pouted her lip, considering him, then said, “Will ye buy me a new Kitty?”