“Social bonds come from shared experiences,” Eugenia said. “In the normal course of events, most children will never touch a kitchen implement again, though they are hopefully more respectful to kitchen workers than they might have been. What I have been trying to say, Mr. Reeve, is that I think you should take Miss Lumley back, if she will agree to return.”
He frowned at her.
“I have some twenty families waiting for a governess,” she added, “and I think we’d both agree that you have a pressing need.”
“Miss Lumley will not do.”
“I exchange governesses only in extremity,” Eugenia said. And, in answer to his raised eyebrow, “For example, one governess attended an extraordinarily compelling sermon on her day out, and thereafter swore off dancing and French lessons. I moved her to a Quaker household.”
“I wouldn’t mind that one,” Mr. Reeve said. “Lizzie and Otis could do with a reminder of the Ten Commandments, especially the one about honoring your older half-brother.”
“Which doesn’t exist,” Eugenia pointed out. “My point is that no one rejects a Snowe’s governess merely because he doesn’t like her. ‘Liking’ is not the point.”
“Tears roll off her like fleas from a wet dog,” Mr. Reeve said flatly.
Eugenia narrowed her eyes. “None of my governesses should be compared to a canine under any circumstances. Nor a flea.”
“My siblings have recently lost their mother.” He gave Eugenia a plaintive glance that didn’t fool her for a second. Susan was right; he was used to getting his way and he had no scruples about how he got it. “A sobbing governess—who faints at the slightest distress—is a drawback, to say the least.”
Eugenia felt a prickle of misgiving. “I know that Miss Lumley is plagued by nerves, but I wouldn’t have thought her anxiety would take the form of constant weeping.”
“You can take my word for it. It’s not a good example for Lizzie. My sister is already preoccupied by death.”
“It’s unfair to condemn Miss Lumley for fainting at the evisceration of a rabbit. It’s likely a messy business.”
He shrugged. “Everyone else managed to stay on their feet.”
Mr. Reeve had an air of defiance about him now, as if he expected Eugenia to censure his little sister, but she couldn’t hold back her smile. “Lizzie sounds like a most unusual and interesting child, something of a natural philosopher.”
She almost confessed to her own childhood interest in mathematics, but thought better of it.
“My sister has arrived at an intriguing theory about bone formation and blood circulation. I am virtually certain that she is wrong, but it hardly matters.”
“I wish that I were able—” Eugenia began, but she was interrupted.
Mr. Reeve clearly realized she was about to refuse his request for the last time. His face changed, all its humor gone, his mouth thinned to a tough line. He leaned forward and met her eyes.
“The children have no family on their father’s side, but their maternal grandmother is pressing to become the guardian of Lizzie and Otis. Given my irregular birth, she has a strong case.”
“Oh dear,” Eugenia said.
“She attempted to wrench Lizzie’s veil away from her, and I only found my sister hours later, hidden in the attics. Otis has a pet, Jarvis, to which he is deeply attached and his grandmother has demanded that Jarvis be disposed of.”
Eugenia frowned. “A dog or cat can be a wonderful companion for a grieving child. If you’d like, I could—”
Again, she was cut short. “Jarvis is a rat.”
“A rat,” Eugenia echoed faintly. She had a horror of rodents, having nearly died of rat-bite fever as a young girl.
“If Jarvis is banished to the stables, Otis will follow,” Mr. Reeve said. “I have no parental experience, but I believe that taking Lizzie’s veil by force was not a good idea.”
Eugenia nodded.
“Their grandmother is a harridan, Mrs. Snowe, who has already expressed her belief that the children should be whipped into shape. Whether or not she means it is hardly the point: she is not a suitable guardian for children who have lost both their father and mother in a matter of a few years.”
“You make a very good argument,” Eugenia said, adding, “None of my governesses employ corporal punishment under any circumstances.”
“I need a governess,” he stated, eyes still focused on hers with unnerving force. “When you signed a contract giving me Miss Lumley, you promised me just that. A woman in constant floods of tears cannot persuade the House of Lords that my household is a suitable place to raise Lizzie and Otis. I need a governess with backbone, who can stand up to their grandmother during her visits.”