A Governess for the Brooding Duke(49)

“I daresay, Your Grace, that you are not uncommon in that. I think we are each of us guilty of taking for granted the things we have around us in the life we lead.”



“Until we lose those things,” he said, and Georgette felt her throat tighten a little.



She could hardly tell if he was referring to her circumstances or his own. However, whatever he had meant, he really had meant it. He had spoken with feeling, and Georgette had not expected it for a moment.



“Yes, I suppose that is the extreme. But of course, we have moments of grace where we find something again, take notice of something that we have not taken notice of for some time, and feel pleased that we still have it. Perhaps it is that which saves us, Your Grace.” Georgette smiled at him in what she hoped was a reassuring manner.



She could not help wondering at the losses of which he spoke and yet knew that she could not possibly ask him. As much as they were finding their conversation just a little easier as it progressed, she wondered if it would ever be so easy that she could speak freely to him.



“I daresay that is only if we have the sense to look,” he said sadly.



“I think we are all guilty of that also, Your Grace,” she said and suddenly thought of her home.



Quite unexpectedly, she thought of her wonderful bedroom in London; the drapes around the bed and the feeling of space. She thought of her days of leisure and all the amusements she had taken for granted; afternoons of bridge and dances at the assembly rooms. If only he had not said what he had said, for she had been a little freer of the thoughts and comparisons those last few days, finding that giving her mind over to the children, and Lady Lyndon, and even the Duke himself, had given her the peace of distraction.



“Forgive me, Miss Darrington,” he said, his tone suddenly a little less wistful. “I have upset you.” He took a step forward and then seemed to stop and stand awkwardly.



With her sitting and him standing, there seemed to be a great disparity which would undoubtedly have an effect upon the conversation.



She was suddenly drawn to thinking of standing in front of his desk as he sat and how uncomfortable it had made her. Perhaps the Duke himself felt uncomfortable in such a situation, and yet she knew that she could not possibly ask him to join her in sitting on the tree trunk. There simply was not room enough for them to sit with a suitably comfortable gap between them. And yet he had allowed her to sit when the situation had been quite the reverse.



“No, Your Grace. You have done no such thing. Perhaps sometimes one upsets oneself with one’s own notions and memories. But it is not of your doing, and you must not concern yourself with it.” Georgette rose to her feet, realizing that was the only solution to their curious positioning.



“Miss Darrington, I do not mean to turn you out of this place. I should not be encroaching on your afternoon of rest.”



“You are not turning me out, Your Grace. I am simply ready to resume my walk.”



“Oh,” he said and seemed not to know what he ought to do next. “Well, perhaps you would care for a little company?” Once again, he seemed so terribly awkward that she felt almost as if she ought to rescue him.



“How very kind, Your Grace,” she said and smiled at him as warmly as she could manage. “I should like that very much.”



They walked side-by-side in silence for some moments as if the sudden motion had put them back a little and they were once again searching for the ease of manner which had begun to develop. Georgette could not help thinking of the small and somewhat tantalizing snippets of information with which Lady Lyndon parted in the schoolroom. And yet she wished she could stop, feeling somehow that it was a great disrespect to the man at her side. Knowing more about him than he would ever have imagined made her suddenly feel as guilty as she had felt on her two uncharacteristic episodes of eavesdropping. It rather felt like the same thing.



“You must miss your home very much, Miss Darrington,” he said, and she was pleased he had spoken and drawn her out of her terrible thoughts.



“In truth, Your Grace, I miss it terribly.”



“If you should like the chance to visit your home, I should be more than pleased to allow you the time,” he offered, and she felt warmed and devastated all at once.



“Your Grace, the home I miss is no longer there,” she said sadly. “Rather the building still stands, Your Grace, but it is not my home any longer. I am not free to enter and exit as once I was.” She shrugged and found she could not look at him.



“And so I am in the position to ask you once more to forgive me, Miss Darrington. Had I known that, I should never have spoken as such. I find I am quite ruining your afternoon, am I not?” Georgette could feel him looking at her, and she knew she must turn to meet his eye or risk offending him.