From Governess to Society Bride. Helen Dickson
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across the grass as fast as her little legs could carry her to where a carriage had halted so the occupants could watch the balloon.
Eve scrambled to her feet and ran after her, smiling delightedly on seeing Sarah Lacy and her young charges.
‘Sarah, how lovely to see you again.’ She looked at the children. ‘Have you come to watch the balloon?’
‘Yes,’ Sophie said, her eyes shining with glee, clearly having enjoyed the spectacle. ‘It was ever so exciting.’
‘And it made a hissing noise like a dragon,’ Abigail babbled happily, at three years old already having a good command of the English language.
‘The children were so excited,’ Sarah said, returning Eve’s smile. ‘They’ve never seen a balloon before.’
‘Neither have I. It was quite a novel experience. Sarah, why don’t you come and share our picnic? It would be lovely for Sophie and Abigail to play with Estelle—and there’s ample food.’
‘I don’t think so, Mrs Brody. Thank you for your kind offer, but Miss Lacy and the children must be getting back.’
Eve whirled round at that familiar deep voice, and looked into the face of Lord Stainton. She knew by his expression that he was not as stunned as she was. For some inexplicable reason her heart set up a wild thumping. His face was still, but his eyes were a brilliant, quite dangerous pale blue. He lounged indolently against the back of the open carriage with the ease of a man discussing nothing more serious than the weather. The remembrance of their previous encounters, all of which had been angry and bitter experiences, touched her deeply.
He wore a plum-coloured cutaway coat and buff knee breeches tucked into highly polished black riding boots, and his neck linen was sparkling white. His gaze was sharp and penetrating and he radiated the same strong masculine appeal. Eve watched him warily, experiencing the depth to which her mind and body were oddly stirred whenever she was in his presence.
Pushing himself away from the carriage, he bowed his dark, shining head. ‘I trust your headache is much improved today, Mrs Brody?’
‘Yes, thank you for asking,’ she replied stiffly.
‘I didn’t expect to meet you at such a gathering,’ he remarked, his expression unreadable.
‘I can’t think why not. I enjoyed watching the ascending balloon enormously—almost as much as the children.’ Distracted by Estelle, who was jumping up and down beside her, better to see Sophie and Abigail in the carriage, she said, ‘Please let your daughters play with Estelle—just for a minute.’ Lord Stainton’s face became cool with the compelling arrogance she associated with him.
‘I told you, we have to be getting back,’ he uttered sternly.
Eve looked at his daughters. Their little shoulders were slumped in dejection and her heart went out to them. There was something rather timid about Sophie and Abigail, something cowed and contrary to the normal exuberance of children.
‘Children need to run about and shout and laugh once in a while, Lord Stainton,’ she said calmly, trying to speak to him without the abrasive tongue of an enemy. ‘There’s no harm in it.’
‘Please, Papa,’ Sophie whispered tentatively, ‘can we play with Estelle for just a little while?’
Eve looked straight at him, waiting for him to reply to Sophie’s quiet plea, hoping he was not inclined to inflict his bad temper on his children. She was relieved when she saw his expression soften.
‘Very well, Sophie,’ he conceded. ‘Miss Lacy, please don’t let them out of your sight.’ Instructing the driver to wait with the carriage, he opened the carriage door and lifted his excited offspring down on to the grass, before striding back to his horse.
With Estelle and Sophie scampering on ahead, Eve took Abigail’s hand and walked with her to the picnic. Lord Stainton watched them from atop his horse and he began to smile, for their laughter was infectious. His face was soft and his eyes were warm. He had a strong sense of responsibility and felt a deep affection for his daughters.
It worried him greatly that they were growing up without the influence and love that could only come from a mother, but when his wife had walked out on him, she had also callously abandoned her children. Turning his horse away from the delightful picture of the picnicking group and feeling a knot of envy that he was not a part of that group, he trotted over to speak to an acquaintance.
Settling herself on the grass beside Sarah, Eve glanced at her with concern. Her expression was strained and apprehensive and Eve suspected things weren’t well with her. ‘You look pale, Sarah. Are you all right?’ she enquired with quiet concern. ‘It can’t be easy for you working for a man as formidable as Lord Stainton.’
Sarah smiled, watching her young charges as they laughed and chattered over their jellies and buns, happy to see them fitting in well with Mrs Seagrove’s two boys, Thomas and David. ‘It must seem like that to you, but his bark can often be worse than his bite. I’ve given much thought to what I told you yesterday—about leaving my employment.’
Eve looked at her expectantly. ‘And?’ she prompted. ‘What have you decided?’
‘I’m going to marry Mark. It’s what we both want—but it will break my heart to leave Sophie and Abigail.’
‘Have you told Lord Stainton?’
She nodded. ‘This morning. I will carry on working for him until he leaves for the country—perhaps two or three weeks. I haven’t told the children yet. I—don’t know how to.’
Eve reached out and squeezed her hand comfortingly. ‘I know just how difficult that will be for you, but I’m sure you’ll find a way—and Lord Stainton will be sure to find someone who will care for his daughters.’
‘Yes—I’m sure you’re right.’
Their attention was drawn to the children who, having finished eating, with cries of delight scampered off across the grass, Sophie and Estelle hand in hand. Not intending to be left behind, Abigail shouted, ‘Wait for me,’ and ran awkwardly after them. Unfortunately, she was so intent on catching the two older girls that she didn’t look where she was going, and the next instant she had run straight into a tree. There was a howl and Eve and Sarah turned simultaneously to see Abigail on the ground, her skirts tipped up in a froth of white lace petticoats and drawers, and a horrified Sophie running back to see what had befallen her sister.
Observing the incident from a distance, Lucas cursed beneath his breath and dismounted. As he strode towards what was quickly becoming a mêlée, an expression of immense concern clouded his face, anxious and not at all pleased.
Sophie, her eyes huge and brimming with tears, stood looking down at Abigail, her hand still clutching that of Estelle. ‘Abigail was running and bumped into the tree and banged her head,’ she wailed, crying even louder when she saw the graze and the swelling bump on her sister’s head, almost choking on her tears.
Eve immediately scooped the injured child up into her arms to comfort her while Sarah tried to console Sophie.
‘I knew this would be a mistake,’ Lord Stainton thundered, glowering accusingly at Eve. It was as if she had physically pushed the child into the tree.
For a full five minutes the picnic area was filled with the voices of crying children, the concerned voices of Beth and Sarah, and Lord Stainton’s deeper, alarmed and irate voice.
Eve looked at him coldly. ‘Will you please be quiet,’ she said, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible. ‘Shouting like that will only upset the children more than they already are and make the situation worse.’
Inconsolable, Abigail continued to sob loudly, her hand on the already swelling lump on her forehead. She was frightened and bewildered by the sharp anger of her father and she cried fiercely. Completely ignoring the glowering Lord Stainton, whose mouth had clamped shut at her firm reproach, Eve sat on a bench with her young burden