The Governess and Mr. Granville. Abby Gaines
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Would you care to walk around the lawn with me?”
William and Charlotte had taken a few stealthy steps backward; as soon as they were out of their father’s line of sight, they trotted toward the twins.
“If this is about William tearing a page of Robinson Crusoe—” Serena decided to anticipate the problem rather than appear to be concealing it “—you can be sure I was very cross, and William has undertaken to repair it. On the bright side, his reading improved enormously....” She trailed off; Mr. Granville had closed his eyes in a pained sort of way.
“That’s not what I want to talk about,” he said. “Shall we walk?”
She inclined her head toward Louisa, who was unfortunately sucking her thumb through the muslin of Serena’s dress. He shook his head.
“Stay here, dearest, and watch the big children play,” Serena told the little girl. “Your papa and I must talk privately.”
As she brushed grass off her skirt—once again he’d found her covered in undergrowth—and made an attempt to rub dry the damp patch where Louisa had been sucking, she wondered what he wanted to discuss. Since he’d already dismissed her from her position, whatever he had to say now couldn’t be that bad. She realized he was watching her cleanup with disapproval.
“All done,” she said brightly, if not entirely truthfully. “Let us go.”
His arm moved involuntarily, as if he might offer it for her to take. But that would suggest a level of acquaintance they didn’t have. Instead, they walked side by side, a respectable two or three feet of lawn between them. Mr. Granville’s hands were clasped behind his back; he appeared lost in thought.
He didn’t speak for some time. But as they neared the sundial at the far end of the lawn, he said, “I’ve been considering our conversation from Thursday.”
“The one in which you dismissed me from my post,” Serena said.
He cleared his throat. “Yes, that one.” He paused, squinting up at the sun, then down at the shadow on the sundial. “It pains me to say, I believe you’re right. It’s time I married again.”
Serena halted, forcing him to do the same. “Really?”
“Why the surprise? You seemed convinced of the excellence of your idea.”
“I was— I am. But, Mr. Granville, if I may be frank—”
“Are you ever anything else?” he asked. “If so, I suspect I might prefer it.”
“I’m afraid not,” she admitted. “My father always encouraged me and my sisters to speak boldly and to speak the truth, as the Bible advises.”
“That must have made for some rather alarming conversations around the dinner table.”
She snickered. “I should remind you, the complete biblical instruction is to speak the truth with love.”
“That’s even worse. There’s nothing more irritating than people who tell one things for one’s own good.”
Serena laughed out loud. “So true!” At his sidelong look, she said, “Don’t think I don’t know I’m guilty of it myself. As temptations go, it’s one of the most insidious.”
“Hmm.” He pushed aside the branch of a shrub that threatened to dislodge her bonnet. “Is your sister, the one married to Lord Spenford, as bold as you?”
Serena considered. “Not on first acquaintance, but Constance has hidden depths. I’m the oldest daughter, so perhaps I’m more...”
“Impertinent?” he suggested.
“Forthright,” she corrected.
“And what is your advanced age, Miss Somerton?”
“I’m twenty-one. Constance—Lady Spenford—is twenty.” She followed him through the arbor into the rose garden. The roses, the pride and joy of Gladding the gardener, were in varying stages of bloom, from tight buds to full blossoms on some of the China varieties. None were yet overblown. Serena sniffed the air appreciatively. “Mmm, you can just catch the scent, if you try.”
“Very nice,” he said, making no attempt to sniff. “I assume your younger sisters are not yet married?”
“No,” she agreed.
He shook his head. “Your poor father.”
“Mr. Granville!” she exclaimed, outraged. Then she caught a gleam of humor in his eyes. “You’ll be relieved to know Papa doesn’t consider himself poor. He’s been known to say he’d love all five of us to live with him and Mama forever.”
“Diplomacy is an important skill for a parson,” Mr. Granville said.
Serena found herself laughing again.
His gaze drifted down to her mouth, then jerked back up. “I daresay your sisters will be easy enough for your father to marry off,” he said abruptly. “Assuming they don’t make a habit of wearing lizards in their hair.”
“That habit is uniquely mine,” she assured him. “Though I’m devastated to learn it might cost me a husband.”
His eyes narrowed. “It’s a matter of decorum, Miss Somerton.”
“A man who loves me will not care about decorum.”
“Is that so?” he said dryly. “Will he also appreciate your excessively free speech?”
“Might I remind you, Mr. Granville, you started this unusual conversation, for reasons you have yet to reveal. The only reason I’m participating so freely is because I’m about to leave.”
He rubbed his chin. “Ah.”
He looked...awkward.
“If you’re feeling guilty about dismissing me, you needn’t,” she said. “I was aware that once you learned of Constance’s marriage my position would be untenable.”
“I’m not feeling guilty,” he said, as if he’d never heard anything so absurd.
She almost managed not to roll her eyes. “So what is the reason for this conversation?”
“Ah, that,” he said. He cleared his throat. “Given that I’ve now decided you were right about a convenient marriage being a good idea...”
“I said I couldn’t wholeheartedly approve of such pragmatic motives,” she corrected. “But that I understand the necessity.”
He ignored her. “I personally have no faith in this second chance of yours, nor do I desire to marry again, but I see no option. The kind of alliance you mentioned will do nicely.” His frown deepened. “It will do,” he amended, dispensing with any niceness attached to the concept of marriage.
“Oh,” Serena said.
“Have I shocked you, Miss Somerton? I expected a more vocal response.”
“I...” She stopped. Thought. “I can’t deny it’ll be wonderful for the children, but it does seem a shame you won’t even consider finding a real wife.”
“My wife will be as real as you are,” he said. “Miss Somerton, in the light of my new intention, there’s something I must ask you.”
Realization burst over Serena like a lightning flash.
Mr. Granville’s unexpected friendliness. His questions about her family. My wife will be as real as you are....
He was going to ask her to marry him!
“No!” Serena squawked.
“No?” He plucked a leaf from a rosebush and rolled it between his fingers as he looked down at her, more confused than distressed.
But then, why would a man be distressed if a convenient bride turned down his