Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

T he next morning, Harriet rose from her bed with a sense of apprehension. Today, a nursemaid would be arriving to visit the estate, and while she should have felt relief, an inexplicable unease nagged at her.

She dressed quickly, choosing a simple yet elegant gown of pale blue muslin that complemented her eyes. But before she made her way downstairs, she could not help but make a stop at the nursery.

The baby was still asleep, her tiny fists curled under her chin, her breathing soft and steady. Harriet felt a swell of affection for the child she had grown so attached to in such a short time.

“I hope you slept well, angel,” Harriet whispered under her breath, watching her from a distance.

In response, Catherine stirred lightly in her sleep, causing Harriet’s heart to nearly burst.

What was it about this little… human being that every move she made was just the most adorable thing that Harriet had ever witnessed?

When she left the nursery, she ran into one of her maids, Eliza, who stood in the hallway with a tray firmly in her hands.

“Good morning, Your Grace,” she greeted with a smile. “I’ve brought your tea and toast. Will you be taking breakfast in your room or in the dining room?”

Harriet bit down on her bottom lip, “Will the duke be present at the table?”

“His Grace left for some work early this morning,” Eliza informed.

“Then, I shall take my breakfast in my room.”

She would be closer to Catherine, in that way. In case she woke up and needed something. Once again, Harriet’s thoughts started to wander.

Eliza returned to the room shortly after with another tray of breakfast. As she was setting it down on the table, Harriet engaged her again.

“Has the nursemaid arrived yet?”

“Why, yes, actually,” Eliza nodded, “She has just arrived. She goes by the name Mrs Linton, and is currently waiting for you in the drawing room.”

Suddenly, Harriet lost all her appetite and got to her feet.

“Oh, then you should have told me sooner. I shall go and see her immediately…”

“Your Grace!” Eliza called out behind her, frantically, “I…”

Harriet turned to look at her, confused. “What is it?”

It was rare that any of the maids stopped her like this.

“It is just that you have not touched your breakfast, and the entire staff has strict orders from the duke to ensure that you are properly fed at all meal times,” Eliza said, her cheeks flushed.

A crack of a smile appeared at the edge of Harriet’s lips. She did not know what the duke’s obsession was with her eating habits, but it was almost endearing.

“I believe I can survive an hour without food,” Harriet assured her, smiling. “There is no cause for alarm.”

She could tell that Eliza felt reluctant, but had no power to influence her decision ultimately.

“As you wish,” Eliza muttered, stepping out of the way.

As she made her way to the drawing room, Harriet’s mind raced with questions and doubts. She wanted to do what was best for Catherine, but the thought of handing her over to a stranger felt oddly unsettling.

Mrs. Linton stood as Harriet entered the drawing room. She was a woman of middle age, with a kind face and a no-nonsense demeanor. Her hair was pulled back into a neat bun, and she wore a simple gray dress with a white apron.

“Good morning, Mrs. Linton,” Harriet said, offering a polite smile. “Thank you for coming.”

“Good morning, Your Grace,” Mrs. Linton replied, her voice calm and professional. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Please, have a seat,” Harriet gestured to the settee, and they both sat down. “I understand you have experience as a nursemaid?”

“Yes, indeed,” Mrs. Linton said. “I have been a nursemaid for over twenty years, caring for children of all ages. I was told that the duke was in search of a nursemaid, and therefore made my way over to the estate at the earliest.”

Harriet nodded, trying to focus on the conversation. “And you’re familiar with caring for infants?”

“Oh, yes, Your Grace,” Mrs. Linton assured her. “I have cared for many infants, and I understand the importance of routine, cleanliness, and affection in a child’s early development.”

Despite Mrs. Linton’s credentials and her calm demeanor, Harriet felt a lingering doubt. The woman was perfectly qualified, yet the thought of entrusting Catherine to her left Harriet uneasy.

Give her a chance. You do not even know anything about her yet.

“Tell me about your approach to caregiving,” Harriet prompted, hoping to understand what exactly was causing her hesitation.

Mrs. Linton smiled warmly. “I believe in providing a nurturing environment where the child feels loved and secure. I ensure their physical needs are met with proper nutrition and hygiene, and I spend time engaging with them to stimulate their minds and senses.”

Harriet listened, but her mind drifted back to the times she had spent with Catherine. The baby had become a part of her daily life, and Harriet had come to cherish those quiet moments together.

It seemed… wrong almost to hand over her care to another person.

“Something wrong, Your Grace?” Mrs. Linton finally asked, likely unsettled by the silence. It brought Harriet back to reality, who quickly shook her head.

“Ah..” her face folded into a frown. “It’s nothing.”

“Do my credentials not appease you, Your Grace?” Mrs. Linton asked, though Harriet had not expected her to be so blunt.

“It is not that,” Harriet tried to reason. “It is just that this is a big decision to make. I thank you for taking the time out to come here, of course. But I shall be in contact with you once a decision has been made.”

A look of confusion crossed the woman’s face. It seemed apparent to Harriet that she was not used to be being contemplated about. She carefully folded her arms in her lap.

“I see. I shall wait for your word then, Your Grace,” she nodded.

Harriet was about to dismiss her, before Mrs Linton spoke again — perhaps not willing to let go of the chance to work at their estate so easily.

“Your Grace, if you do not mind, perhaps I could meet the baby? In that way, you may be able to assess my style of caregiving,” Mrs. Linton pitched confidently.

Harriet gave a weary shrug. “Ah, little Catherine would be asleep right now. It is not fair for us to disturb her like this.”

The disappointment was blatant across the woman’s face, but Harriet quickly excused herself, and left the drawing room. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest, and she raced to Catherine’s nursery.

She could only take a breath of rest when she saw that Catherine was still there, sleeping in the cot.

Where else would she have been?

Her anxious thoughts about the baby seemed to be multiplying by the day. But now, as she stood over her, all her nerves seemed to alleviate themselves and a smile formed naturally.

So delicate. So sweet.

It would be a tragedy if someone other than herself were to take care of her. What if they did not do a good enough job? Harriet could not stand to see it happen.

Harriet did not know what was going on with her — truthfully, she had never experienced such an intensely protective feeling before. But she knew that she would benefit by sharing her feelings.

So when Simon returned to the estate that evening, Harriet found herself pacing outside his study until she finally summoned the courage to knock on the door.

“Come in,” Simon called from inside.

Harriet entered the room, noting the stacks of papers and ledgers on his desk. Simon looked up from his work, a curious expression on his face. “Oh, it is you.”

He seemed surprised but not upset.

“I thought I should come speak to you now that you have returned home.”

He pushed back some of the papers, and turned his full attention towards her. “How did the meeting with the nursemaid go?”

Harriet hesitated, unsure of how to articulate her feelings. “Mrs Linton is very polite and seems quite experienced,” she began, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. “But...”

“But?” Simon’s eyebrow shot up.

Harriet took a deep breath. “I’m not sure why, but I don’t want to hire her.”

“Did she do something to make you uncomfortable?” The question was urgent and held a degree of protectiveness.

Harriet swallowed loudly, “I would not say that. In fact, she was quite accommodating, I should say.”

Simon gave her a quizzical look, “Then what is it that makes you so unsure? I was told that the nursemaid was one of the best in the country.”

“That may be…” Harriet tightened her fists along her sides. “I just have this feeling that she isn’t the right person to care for Catherine.”

Simon leaned back in his chair, studying her. “And this feeling is based on evidence?”

Harriet shook her head, and cracked a small smile. “Let’s call it intuition.”

“Ah,” Simon nodded, as though he suddenly understood. “Like a mother’s intuition.”

Harriet’s eyes widened at the words, racking her mind quickly on how to refute it. But then, ended up exhaling loudly instead.

“Is that what you believe this is?” She did not have a name to the feeling herself.

“It certainly seems like it — you are overprotective over who should spend time with her,” he nodded. “Though, the situation itself is quite strange so I should not be surprised I guess.”

Harriet tried to imagine herself as a motherly figure — Catherine’s face flashed in front of her eyes. To her surprise, the image was not one that she disliked. In fact, it filled her with a sense of warmth.

“I just do not think this is the right nursemaid,” Harriet insisted once again.”

Simon pressed his lips together, and his clasped both his hands. “I suppose there is no harm in looking for other options.”

Hearing this, Harriet felt immediately filled with gratitude. A part of her was worried that he would reject her request, and instead insist that they go with the first person they found.

“Yes, please. Perhaps the nursemaid that Esther suggested — that might be better.”

“Yes,” Simon replied, his expression thoughtful. “There are a few more nursemaids we can consider. We’ll find someone who meets your standards.”

Harriet felt a wave of relief wash over her. “Thank you. I appreciate your patience.”

Then, a concerned expression came upon his features. “You know, Harriet. Just because I am not here in the estate at all times does not mean that I am not aware of what happens here.”

Harriet crinkled her nose in confusion. “I am not sure if I understand you?”

Simon leaned back into his seat, his expression noticeably more relaxed. “This morning, do you believe that you forgot to fulfil one of your duties?”

Harriet’s hand flew to her chest. What sort of hidden accusation was this?

“Not that I can think of. After I woke up, I made sure to tour the estate to ensure that everything was working as it should be before I went to see little Catherine.”

Simon shook his head, “Before that.”

“Well, I was interviewing the nursemaid before that and—” she stopped midway as it suddenly clicked for her.

Eliza. She must have told on her.

“Do you remember now?” Simon pressed.

“Is this about me making my meals on time?” Harriet sighed, remembering what Eliza had told her. “Because, surely, you can just trust me to do so on my own instead of recruiting my own maids to spy on me.”

“It’s hardly as dramatic as spying,” Simon laughed. “Besides, it does not matter now. I’ve instructed your maid to bring your dinner to your room. You’ve neglected to take care of yourself, and that needs to change.”

Harriet’s eyes widened, feeling a mix of emotions bubbling inside of her. Was it irritation that she felt most strongly, or was it admiration?

“I have to say that you are a mystery to me.”

“A mystery?” Simon asked. “What is so mysterious about me now…?”

Harriet wondered whether she should hold back on her thoughts — out of respect. But then, decided against it.

“How do you manage to be caring and rude at the same time?” she asked, albeit carefully.

Simon chuckled, the sound rich and genuine. “A skill I’ve perfected over time, I suppose. It helps to keep matters interesting, does it not?”

Harriet huffed, unable to suppress a small smile despite herself.

“Thank you for understanding me about the nursemaid. I shall go see what Catherine is doing now.”

She turned to leave, shutting the door with a bit more force than necessary. It was a fine line they walked, this strange partnership, but Harriet felt a growing sense of hope that they might yet find a way to make it work.

She could not get Simon out of her mind after their little interaction.

Which, perhaps was something she should come to accept now. It happened every time that they spoke — argument or not.

Today felt… different, though.

It was surprising how much his understanding had meant to her, especially given their rocky start. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there was a shift in their interactions — a sense of shared responsibility that hadn’t been there before.

She entered the nursery, where Catherine lay in her crib, cooing softly, her tiny fingers reaching for the fabric of her blanket. Harriet watched her for a moment, feeling a tug of affection that was becoming more familiar each day.

“Is it really so difficult to find you a nursemaid?” Harriet wondered out loud, “Or is it because I do not want anyone else to share the responsibility of looking after you?”

The realization itself felt quite poignant. It meant that Harriet did care for this baby — who until only a few days ago had been a troublesome burden.

Catherine had managed to grow on her. It was like her little hand has closed itself around her heart, forming a fist that was holding on tightly.

What was going to happen when they found out who the real parents were? Would she be taken away?

Harriet found herself once again teeming with nervousness at the thought. Without saying another word, she exited the nursery and made her way over to Simon’s study again.

This time, when she entered, she did not knock. But Simon did not look too surprised to see her either.

“All is well?” he asked, a note of hesitance in his voice.

Harriet shook her head, and took a seat in the empty chair beside her. “Of course not.”

Simon leaned back in this chair, as though he was a doctor overseeing his patient.

“Tell me what bothers you this time,” his tone was teasing at the surface, but she hoped that he had some genuine concern buried deep beneath it as well.

“It is about Catherine, again.”

“Of course,” he leaned forward slightly.

“I…” Harriet knotted her fingers together till they were a contorted mess, and bit down her lip till it was about to bruise.

“Harriet?” Simon asked, growing worried now.

“Have you made any progress with the search?” she blurted out all at once. “You know — the search for her true parents.”

“So you finally believe that the baby is not mine?”

“Simon, please,” Harriet pleaded. “Can you just tell me what I have asked of you?”

She thought about the prospect of having to give up Catherine again, and her heart began to pound as though she had just climbed up a very steep hill.

“I shall update you soon,” Simon replied after a moment.

Harriet could tell that there was something that he was not telling her. Usually, she would have let it go for her own peace. But right now — her anxious mind would have let her rest for a minute if she did not demand more answers.

“You must know something. You should tell me, at least.”

Simon opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. “Duchess, I told you in no uncertain terms. Once I become clear of the situation myself, I shall inform you.”

Harriet sighed. Simon was not going to budge on this.

“Do you believe that… well… Do you believe that there is some possibility that we might never find her true parentage at all?” she asked.

It was a silly question. But it was one that would mean that they would have the option of keeping Catherine — that no one was going to come asking at their door for her back.

It was a moment of vulnerability — perhaps the tiredness from the last few nights of bad sleep had gotten to her finally. Simon seemed to sense the vulnerable moment, and softened immediately.

“Do not worry, Harriet. I shall sort this out for you.”