“Thank you. I shall.”
He took his leave. It had been kind of him to check on her, and the visit had brought her solace. But as she turned her attention to the front gardens and the men scurrying about, a heaviness once again fell over her heart. Would she ever be able to find true peace again?
* * *
By the time James returned home, darkness had descended, and a heavier rain now fell. His coat and hat were soaked, and his hair dripped with its effects.
Once in the corridor just inside the workman’s entrance, he shed his wet coat and shook the water from his hair. He was not hungry. He could hardly think about food after what had transpired that day. But he did want dry clothes and a hot fire.
He started toward the great hall when he heard footsteps in his study. He stopped short. No one should be in there, especially at this hour. He slowed his steps and looked inside.
There, pacing before the simmering fire, was Mrs. Towler. She lifted her head as he entered, and they stared at each other for several seconds before he entered the study. His dry clothes would have to wait.
She tapped her long fingers against the edge of his wooden desk. “So, this is where we are.”
He remained silent. He hadn’t talked to his mother-in-law all day. In fact, he’d avoided her. But now he had no choice. “It’s unfortunate.”
“Unfortunate! Unfortunate? One of the girls could have discovered the body. I never thought I would live to see the day when my granddaughters would be in such close proximity to something so vile. You invited this entire mess into our house when you asked her to be governess,” she accused.
Cold and tired, his sarcasm slipped. “Very well. What would you have me say? Yes, I asked Miss Hale to be the governess here. Yes, there has been a tragedy. Yes, I have no idea what to do about it or even what to think about it. So did I invite it in? Apparently so.”
She stepped quite close. “I have tried to do everything I can for you, James, out of love for my daughter, love for my granddaughters. But I cannot stand by and watch this. For if I do, I am party to it, and that I cannot abide.”
James was in no mood for games. “What are you saying?”
Her chin shook with each word. “You are permitting mayhem to prevail in this house. I’ve lived with your family for several years now. Through triumph. Through tragedy. But this is beyond the scope of what is reasonable for anyone to take.” She paused dramatically and then jutted her chin upward. “The governess must go.”
Resentment surged at her continued interference. But he would not lose his temper. Not again. She was threatening him—playing a frustratingly dangerous game of dominance. “Or?”
“Or I will go.”
In his current state of bitter irritation, he could almost laugh. “And where would you go?”
“I do have a cousin, or have you forgotten? I’ve been loyal to my daughter, but this, this is too much. I know you think I’m completely dependent upon you, but nothing is further from the truth.”
“So you have just issued me an ultimatum,” he clarified.
“I suppose I have.”
And with that, she swept from the room.
He tugged his damp cravat free, pulled it away from his neck, and dropped into the chair. He forced his fingers through his wet hair and then shook off the moisture from his fingers. The day’s events ran through his head swiftly and angrily. The morning cries from Miss Hale. The vision of Longham’s body. The endless discussions. Miss Hale’s interrogation, and then Mr. North’s annoying visit. And now this. What was worse, he was at a loss as to how to right this dangerously leaning ship. If only there was a clear answer—a clear path out of this mess. But there was nothing to be done but see it through, and he had no idea how long that would take.
The one thing he did know was he would never cower to the demands of an ultimatum—from anyone.
Chapter 31
By the time James had returned to his chamber to exchange his wet clothes for dry, he had begun to calm down. Surely Mrs. Towler was merely trying to prove a point with her demands. She often exhibited certain patterns, so surely by morning her stance would soften.
But for now, he wanted to find a bit of peace—and check on Maria and Rose. The activity had kept him away from the house, and he needed to reinforce with Miss Hale that in light of the day’s events, the girls were to remain indoors in the coming days. He could not rest until he was certain they were clear on that matter.
With a candlestick in his hand, he made his way to the nursery suite and pushed open the main door. Save for the firelight, all was dark, and he could see both girls asleep in their canopied beds.
He leaned in farther. Miss Hale was seated by the fire, reading. A shawl was draped over her thin shoulders, her chestnut hair bound at the nape of her neck and trailing down her back. Her feet were tucked casually beneath her.
It was such a peaceful sight—one that conjured pleasant memories of happier times.
He shifted, and the floorboard squeaked beneath him. At the sound she looked up, lowered her book, and joined him in the corridor.
Once she had pulled the door to the nursery closed behind her, he said, “I’d hoped to see the girls before they went to bed.”
The shadows from his candle played on the smooth surface of her fair cheek as she spoke. “I know they would like to see you. They missed seeing you for your regular evening visit. I can wake them if you wish.”
“No, no. That’s not necessary. But I do wish to speak with you. Can you join me in the drawing room?”
As soon as his request left his lips, he realized that he’d put them both in a precarious situation. It was one thing to speak briefly just outside the nursery door. But no good could come from a quiet chat with her in the hushed night hours after such a tumultuous day. Not when emotions ruled his thoughts and the future remained so uncertain.
She hesitated momentarily, and yet she complied and together they made their way to the drawing room. Once they were in the firelit chamber, it was clear that the day’s events had taken their toll on her. Every other instance he’d been in her presence, her countenance had been alert and bright, her manner sanguine and confident. But tonight her face was pale, and shadows darkened the soft skin beneath her eyes.
The sight of Miss Hale’s sorrow, her pain, affected him. He wanted to help her, to alleviate her distress, but he wasn’t sure what to say.
How long had it been since he consoled a woman?
Snippets of time and fragments of conversations with Elizabeth flashed in his mind.
And the battle raged.
He had to remain focused. “Are the girls aware of what happened?”
“Rachel is, of course, but Maria and Rose are not. We managed to keep them in the nursery. They saw the men in the gardens from the window, but they quickly lost interest. They did ask after you though.”
“I’ll depart for the mill early in the morning, but the girls are indoors for the time being. They may venture to the courtyard, but no farther than the courtyard gates. We have no idea who was behind this, and I don’t want to take any chances.”
She nodded. “I couldn’t agree more.”
They stood in stiff silence, and he regarded the tear tracks on her face. It was not his place to make such a personal observation. The sight tugged at him, touching his heart more than reason. At this moment the rules that should dictate such an interaction were fading away, and they were no longer employer and governess, but a man and a woman. “You’ve been crying.”