The Silent Governess(17)

His suggestion was met with cheers, and the children quickly cleared the toys from the worn circular carpet before the nursery hearth. Olivia rose to move the large wooden rocking horse, but Felix Bradley quickly came to her aid, stepping near and saying quietly, “Allow me, lovely Livie. And that is difficult to say, lovely Livie is, though I realize you shall have to take my word for it. I practiced saying it all the way up here.”

She shook her head at his foolishness but could not help grinning.

Movement caught her eye, and she glanced over as a second figure appeared in the doorway. Lord Bradley stood, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. He looked from Felix to her and back again, seemingly annoyed to see his cousin standing so near to her. She felt defensive—she had not initiated the proximity. Still, she took a self-conscious step away.

“Felix. I am surprised to see you here.”

“Are you? In the nursery, or in general?”

“Both, I suppose. Your term does not end for several weeks.”

“That’s right. Just before Christmas. I am only visiting. You do not mind, I trust?”

Lord Bradley regarded him speculatively, before his shoulders lifted slightly and his lips pulled down in a gesture of detached nonchalance.

“Come, Cousin Edward, do play with us,” Audrey beseeched. “We haven’t enough players for a proper game. And Nurse Peale says she is too old to sit on the floor.”

“And what game are we playing?” he asked, eyes fixed on Felix.

“Hunt the slipper,” Andrew answered. “Livie has never played it. Can you imagine?”

Lord Bradley feigned shock. “I cannot.”

“Miss Livie, you are to stand in the center and try to guess which of us has the shoe,” Audrey explained. “We shall use one of my doll shoes, for a real shoe would be too easily seen with so few players.”

Andrew looked up at her soberly. “You are to say, ‘Cobbler, cobbler, mend my shoe. Get it done by half past two.’ But as you cannot speak, we shall say it for you.”

Olivia dipped her head in appreciation.

“Whoever is caught with the slipper becomes the hunter, and pays a forfeit,” Audrey explained. “One must sing a song, or dance, or tell a secret, or perform some trick.”

“And, if anyone drops the slipper whilst passing it,” Andrew added, “she must pay a forfeit as well.”

“Why do you say ‘she’?” Audrey demanded. “I shall not drop it.”

“You always do.”

“Do not.”

While Olivia stood, the others sat on the floor—Audrey, Andrew, Becky, Felix, and Lord Bradley. She was surprised by his affability in joining the game. Evidently he was very fond of his young cousins.

The five sat, knees raised, in a boxy circle, and made a great show of passing the shoe under the tent of their bent legs. All fisted their hands and mimed the act of passing, trying to make the guessing more difficult. Still, they made a very small circle and Olivia was sure Andrew held the shoe, but then he passed it so quickly she could not be sure. A mischievous light gleamed in Felix’s eyes.

She pointed to him with a suppressed smile.

He held forth empty hands and winked.

Olivia next guessed Audrey and, correct, was instructed to trade places with the girl—who had been seated directly beside Lord Bradley. Swallowing, Olivia sat down gingerly, careful to avoid grazing his knee with her own, and to keep her skirts tucked about her.

Audrey performed a pirouette for her forfeit, then lost no time in beginning another round, chanting, “Cobbler, cobbler, mend my shoe. Get it done by half past two.”

Andrew passed the shoe to Lord Bradley, who reached for her hand to pass the shoe into hers. Olivia feared her palm would be damp with nerves at being so close to him. When his fingertips touched her palms she started, fumbled the shoe, and it fell to the floor.

“Now you’ve done it, Livie!” Felix said. “Got to pay your forfeit.”

“Pay a forfeit, pay a forfeit!” Andrew chimed.

Olivia’s heart pounded. She wiped her damp palms along the hem of her gown as it wrapped around her ankles. What should she do? What could she do?

She arose and stepped to the pianoforte and there played a few bars of one of Mozart’s piano concertos, the festive “Turkish March” she had learnt at Miss Cresswell’s. Afterward, she bowed with a flourish and reclaimed her spot on the floor.

Everybody clapped in delight except Lord Bradley. He merely stared. Had she overstepped by playing the pianoforte meant for the children’s use?

Apparently she had, for he rose, smoothed his coat, and apologized to his cousins. “Forgive me, but I have forgotten an appointment with Father’s clerk.”

How foolish she felt, how chastened. The children groaned, but Felix watched him go as silently as she.





Olivia awoke, cold. Her small room had no fire of its own, but drew warmth from the hearth in the adjacent sleeping chamber. And that fire had no doubt smoldered to ash hours ago. She pulled her bedclothes over her head, attempting to warm herself and return to sleep. She heard something and stilled, ceasing to even shiver as she listened. Her door creaked slowly open, and Olivia sat upright, heart pounding.

As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she saw a figure tiptoeing into her room. A small figure.

Andrew.

“I had a bad dream,” he muttered and audibly shivered.

Olivia turned down her bedclothes, and he immediately climbed in beside her. She realized she should return him to his own bed and find him an extra blanket, or rouse Becky to stoke the fire and warm another bed stone. Instead, she pulled the blankets up under his chin and asked God to send him sweet dreams. Andrew curled into her side with a little sigh, falling to sleep within seconds. Ah, well . . . she would rise early and carry him back to his bed.

Stroking his hair, Olivia wondered if this was what it felt like to be someone’s mother—to possess the sweet, satisfying power to comfort and console. She wondered, too, if she would ever have children of her own. Considering she was unmarried at nearly five and twenty, it seemed unlikely. She thought fleetingly of the sole young man who had ever courted her and squelched the icy doubts that followed. Instead, she put her arm around Andrew, relishing his warmth, his nearness, and the sunny smell of his freshly washed hair as she drifted to sleep.





In the morning, Olivia awoke with Andrew still beside her and the discomfiting feeling of being watched.

She glanced toward her door and saw that it was still open from Andrew’s entrance the night before. She gasped, startled to see Lord Bradley and Audrey in the threshold, peering at them. She jerked the bedclothes up over her thin nightdress.

“Forgive us,” Lord Bradley murmured, averting his eyes. “Audrey was concerned when she could not find Andrew.”

Olivia opened her mouth to defend herself, but remembered in time not to speak.

“Did he have a bad dream and ask to sleep with you?” Audrey asked.

Olivia nodded, realizing this was close enough to the truth and likely to assure their hastiest departure.

“There, Audrey, you see? Nothing to fear. Andrew is perfectly well.”

He glanced at her, and Olivia felt her cheeks burn as she pulled the bedclothes higher.

Andrew opened his sleepy eyes and looked from Olivia to his sister and cousin, clearly confused to find himself in the under nurse’s bed.

“You talked in your sleep, Miss Livie!” Andrew said, startling Olivia and their audience as well.

Olivia shook her head, but Andrew insisted, “You did! You said something about a comb and then, ‘I should not have done it. I did not mean to.’ You said that bit twice. What did you not mean to do?”

Olivia was dumbfounded and felt her face flush anew. She dared a glance up at Lord Bradley, knowing he would be displeased.

“Andrew, you must have been dreaming,” Audrey said, stepping into the room. “Miss Keene cannot speak.” She took Andrew’s hand as he climbed out of bed and led him from the room. “You had another of your bad dreams last night, did you not?”

“I did, but—”

“See? That was all it was, then. Miss Keene talking in her sleep? What an imagination you have!”

After the children departed, Lord Bradley paused only long enough to nod curtly before pulling the door closed. Olivia sighed. Next time, she could most definitely not let Andrew share her bed.





On Wednesday morning, Olivia delivered the children to the stable yard for their riding lessons. When she arrived, Lord Bradley was nowhere to be seen, so she and the children went to the far stall and watched Talbot shoe a horse and then looked on as Johnny saddled up the small horse and pony Audrey and Andrew would ride. When a quarter of an hour had passed, and Lord Bradley still had not appeared, Johnny took pity on the antsy children.

“What say you, Miss Livie. These two beasts are raring to go. The horses too.” He winked. “Why don’t I lead them about the yard until Lord Bradley comes?”

Olivia nodded gratefully.

Smiling, Johnny put the horse and pony on leads. The children mounted, all enthusiasm, and the groom led them around the yard in a wide circle. Not as exciting as a ride with their cousin, but at least they were not sitting idle.

A few minutes later, Lord Bradley strode into the stables with the merest glance in Olivia’s direction. He walked to one of the stalls and, over its gate, stroked the long muzzle of his tall black horse.