“I’m sorry,” he said, swallowing. “What was it you said?”
She frowned. “It’s normal that she’s curious.”
Patrick stared at her. What was she talking about? “Pardon?”
Juliet sighed. “I don’t understand why you’re having such a hard time understanding this. She’s a little girl.”
“I understand that.”
“Then what seems to be your problem?” Juliet burst out, throwing her hands into the air. “Is the problem that she momentarily forgot her manners and mentioned a topic considered improper in mixed company? Or is it the fact she knows anything about them in the first place?”
“The second one. I think Kate’s too young to know of such things.”
Juliet removed her spectacles and rubbed the bridge of her nose, her brows knitting together. “She’s not too young at all. But if it’ll make you feel better, next time she asks such a question I’ll direct her to come speak to you.”
He ground his teeth. “No, you’re their―” He broke off. His mouth couldn’t form the word mother. She wasn’t their mother. Abigail was their mother. He swallowed hard. “Juliet, part of your role here is to help guide the girls into womanhood, I’ll not get in the way of that. I just feel Kate is too young for those discussions. Please wait until she’s a little older and better able to understand. That’s all I’m asking.”
“You’re impossible,” she muttered, taking a step away from him.
He reached for her, then pulled her up against him. “No, I’m not. It’s not too much to ask that my girls get to stay innocent a little while longer, is it?”
“No, I don’t think that’s too much to ask. But I will not lie to them, either,” she said sternly.
He loosened his hold on her. “I’m not asking you to.”
“Yes, you are.” She took a step back. “Not in so many words, but that’s exactly what you’re asking me to do.”
“How so?”
“In your plea that they get to remain innocent, you’re indirectly asking me to evade their questions and omit facts.”
“Then answer Celia’s questions, I never asked you not to do that.”
“Celia?” Juliet echoed.
He nodded, unable to meet her eyes. “If she has questions about how her body is changing, please answer them for her. Heaven knows I wouldn’t know what to say to her, but I’m asking you to answer her questions privately. Kate’s too young to know about fluffies.”
“Celia wasn’t the one asking questions,” Juliet said, her tone softer than he’d ever heard it before. “She’s too young to be developing, but when she does, she’ll have all the knowledge she needs.”
“Then who the blazes was asking questions?” he demanded hotly.
“Kate.”
“Why?” he burst out, unable to hide his irritation at the whole situation. “There is absolutely no reason a young girl of five should have taken notice of such a thing, nor found it interesting enough to inquire about. Would you care to explain what you’ve done to stir this curiosity?”
Her grey eyes which were filled with a softness he’d never seen before transformed into cold steel in a second. “Loved her, you jackanapes! Something she’s never experienced at the hands of that nursemaid-turned-governess you hired for them. How you can stand there and accuse me of doing something improper, I’ll never understand.” She swallowed, her face reddening a fraction. “All I’ve done is held her and hugged her and rocked her. I may not be as buxom as other women, but there’s enough there that it caught her attention. When she asked why there was a difference between my chest and yours, I told her. I can see now I might have misunderstood her question. I thought she was inquiring about the physical differences, but now I realize she might have been asking why my chest contains a beating heart and yours doesn’t.”
Patrick stood paralyzed in her wake. His mouth unable to speak. His body unable to move. His brain unable to think. The only thing that seemed to function was the part of his body that Juliet didn’t think existed: his heart, which, though it was beating normally, ached in a way it never had before.
Chapter 11
“I’m sorry, Juliet,” Kate said sadly, her lower lip quivering.
Juliet forced a watery smile to her lips and wrapped the little girl in a hug. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. You did nothing wrong.” Your father did, but not you. She took a step back while Martha carried in a heavy tea tray and set it on the table for their afternoon tea.