Chapter 17

He was an idiot—it was as simple as that. Henry wasn’t one to ask personal questions because it was impolite, and he felt no interest in the lives of others. People gave away enough details of their lives without him having to ask anything. With Miss Barnes, the question just fell out of his mouth.

It was evident that being around the nursemaid was dangerous because he found himself letting down his barriers and wanting to be closer to her. Henry didn’t like that, so he did his best to avoid her. He didn’t stay away from her entirely because, whether he liked it or not, he liked being around her and hearing her talk about her life.

“You’re a pathetic man, Henry Andrews,” he muttered, going downstairs.

He was supposed to continue looking through the books in his study, but he doubted he’d be able to concentrate after the moment in the nursery. The nursemaid was undoubtedly dangerous, and he needed to control himself better around her. Henry wished he knew why he was so drawn to her. Perhaps the heavens wanted to play a joke on him by making him vulnerable around a woman he never would have given a second glance. It wasn’t that she wasn’t attractive, but she was a commoner, and he had met more beautiful women.

Even they hadn’t turned his head because they were usually shallow women who he didn’t feel would fit into the role he required of them. Strangely, Rebecca had exhibited most of the qualities he expected of his wife and duchess, but she was just a commoner. That shouldn’t be possible because she wasn’t raised to fill an important position like an aristocrat’s wife.

Sighing, he trailed his hand on the balustrade, noting some areas that might need sanding and a lick of paint. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to get a splinter. He looked down, frowning at the fraying edges of the carpet. It needed to be changed. Laughter grabbed his attention, drawing him to the parlour. He could hear his aunt and sister, but two voices were unaccounted for.

“Oh,” he groaned. “Not them again.”

He should have turned and fled up the stairs the moment he realized who the guests were, but he was too slow about it.

“Your Grace,” his butler said. “Do you need something?”

“Henry?” he heard his sister say moments before she appeared at the parlour door. “Come, join us. Lady Ruth and Mr Bartlett are here.”

He didn’t want to see the pair of them again, especially not that vicar. Mr Bartlett worked on his nerves, but his sister didn’t mind him. Juliana had become more religious since Thomas’ death and received some comfort from the vicar’s visits. However, he would stop the man from coming to his house so frequently the moment Juliana no longer needed him.

Henry also put up with him because Mr Bartlett was related to Lady Ruth, and they were quite close. The had a bit of a dependent relationship that he couldn’t understand.

“Henry?” Juliana pressed.

“I’ll be right along, Jules,” he said.

She smiled and disappeared, returning to her companions. His sister had been somewhat melancholic earlier that day, but she was all smiles now. Something had changed between then and now, but he was glad about it. He would rather see her smiling than sad. He entered the room, catching the tail end of his sister’s words.

“Miss Barnes is such a godsend,” she said. “I doubt I will ever tire of saying these words.”

Oh, the nursemaid was certainly a godsend, but she was also a test that he might just fail.

“Your Grace,” said Lady Ruth, her eyes lighting up when she saw him. “I hoped I would see you today. I was just telling Mr Bartlett that you’ve been so busy lately. I hope all is well?”

“Yes, thank you, Lady Ruth,” he said, offering her a rare smile.

Her eyes widened, unaccustomed to seeing him smiling. Henry barely smiled, so she probably wondered what had brought about the rare sight. She recovered quickly and returned his smile, hope filling her eyes. He felt guilty then, knowing he had given her much doubt about his intentions towards her.

Ending the courtship could not have been easy for her, and now, six months had passed without a word from him about resuming it. Henry had been prepared to court and marry Lady Ruth months ago, but now he just didn’t know. He was guilty about his uncertainty, but that didn’t change how he felt.

“Take a seat, and I’ll pour you a cup of tea,” said Juliana. “The tea tray was brought moments ago, so it should still be hot.”

Usually, Henry would decline and go about his way, but continually ostracizing himself from his sister wasn’t the way forward. After all, they only had each other, and little Tommy needed a strong male figure in his life. If not for himself, he needed to try harder for his family.

“I will take that tea,” he replied, choosing an armchair near his aunt.

Juliana beamed, quickly making his tea and offering the cup. Henry’s heart lifted. He hadn’t seen her smile like this since Thomas died. He cherished the moment for what it was—evidence of his sister slowly healing. He couldn’t be happier.

Henry loved his sister and sought her happiness before his own, even though his cold manner might indicate otherwise. It simply wasn’t easy for him to show his feelings in the form of affection. He would rather buy a piece of jewellery than offer a hug, but perhaps his sister would appreciate the latter more.

“We have missed you both at social gatherings,” said Lady Ruth, drawing attention to herself. “We all understand that Lady Oakham is still in mourning, but surely you could attend one or two parties for the coming festive season, Your Grace?”

Henry was in no mood to socialize in the near future. He didn’t want to see the pitying looks or be bombarded with well-wishers and fake sentimental words. He had seen how others treated those who had lost loved ones, and he did not want to be on the receiving end.

“Perhaps,” he said simply.

He didn’t want to disappoint Lady Ruth but wouldn’t trap himself by agreeing to anything. Her smile remained, but a little frown marred her features. She didn’t trust him, and he didn’t blame her.

“Either way, you will most certainly see me at those parties,” said Aunt Hannah. “I look forward to them. I think we’ve received four invitations already, with plenty more to follow. If I’m not mistaken, Lord and Lady Mallory are having a dinner party next week.”

“Yes, they will begin the Christmas celebrations,” Lady Ruth agreed. “Will Mr Cruikshanks be there? You have been seen with him more days out of the week than not.”

Aunt Hannah immediately blushed. “Yes, he will be there. He is good friends with Lord Mallory.”

“You must be enjoying your outings,” said Lady Ruth. “The market has attracted much attention this year. Have you been yet?”

“Yes, with Mr Cruikshanks,” his aunt revealed, patting the back of her hair. “They even had Gypsies selling their wares. I bought a few trinkets, but Mr Cruikshanks bought me the most beautiful bracelet. The woman assured him it was created under a full moon with only the purest silver. Isn’t it beautiful?”

She lifted her left arm, showing the silver bracelet. It was crudely made but charming and perfect for his aunt. Mr Cruikshanks had chosen well.

“It’s, uh, lovely,” said Lady Ruth, unable to hide her distaste.

Aunt Hannah’s face fell, angering Henry. “It suits you, Aunt Hannah,” he said. “Mr Cruikshanks seems to know you well.”

His aunt smiled. “Yes, he does,” she said. “It’s not something from one of the more standard jewellers, but I adore it.”

“That is all that matters, Aunt,” said Juliana. “You should invite him to another dinner or perhaps tea. Whichever you prefer.”

“I’ll speak to him about that,” his aunt replied. “I know he’ll want to spend more time with my family. He speaks so highly of you.”

“It’s a shame his eldest son doesn’t feel the same way about you,” Lady Ruth remarked. “Isn’t it always just like that? Children are sometimes never happy for their parents, especially when it involves their second chance. Perhaps Mr Cruikshanks’ son feels you’re trying to replace his mother.”

Henry stiffened. Lady Ruth had a knack for coming across as understanding while destroying a person with her words. He had always put it down to her honest nature, so he tended to be more understanding, but lately, he had noticed an ugliness to her honesty.

It was like she was trying to hurt the other person and cover it up as concern and honesty. Miss Barnes was an honest person, but her words were never designed to hurt. One could feel her sincerity, concern, and care for the person she was talking to. The same couldn’t be said about Lady Ruth, which made him question his opinion about her.

“I’m not trying to be their mother,” his aunt said, smiling, although her eyes were filled with hurt. “His children are adults. Far be it from me to try and mother them. I simply wish to be happy, and he makes me happy. We make each other happy.”

Henry hated to see his aunt so affected. She deserved happiness, and anyone who tried to hurt her would have to deal with him.

“I think it’s rather obvious that my aunt does not need to be a mother figure to these adults,” he said, looking at Lady Ruth sternly. “These people are married with children of their own. Would they really begrudge their father a second chance at happiness? Are they that selfish?”

Lady Ruth’s eyes widened, her mouth opening and closing repeatedly before she found her voice. He had never seen her so flustered before.

“I didn’t mean to accuse her of anything, Your Grace,” she said. “I’m just concerned about her ladyship. Mr Cruikshanks’ children might cause much opposition, especially if her ladyship and Mr Cruikshanks decide to wed.”

Aunt Hannah gave a strangled whimper that she tried to hide with a cough. She wasn’t very successful. Henry narrowed his eyes, ready to unleash a tongue-lashing, but Miss Barnes’ sudden appearance at the doorway stopped him.

“Oh!” she cried, looking around the room. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I wasn’t aware you had guests. Please, excuse me.”

“No, wait, Miss Barnes,” his sister said. “Please, come and join us. I insist. I’ve just been telling everyone how wonderful the last few weeks have been. The world just seems brighter.”

It certainly did. Even Henry could attest to the world around him having more colour than usual. It would be foolish of him not to understand it had something to do with the nursemaid’s arrival.

Miss Barnes seemed rather reluctant as she entered the room and sat near his sister. Henry found himself sitting up straighter, his body acutely aware of the nursemaid’s presence. He had spent some time in her company mere moments ago and put his nose where it didn’t belong. More than that, he had enjoyed being around her. She had a calming influence on him but also could flood his mind and body with thoughts and feelings he had no business having.

“You must be used to the praise, Miss Barnes,” said Lady Ruth. “I’m sure others have praised you just as much. How do you not let it get to your head?”

That was rather direct, even for Lady Ruth. Miss Barnes didn’t seem affected, though, and even smiled.

“I see no reason to let it get to my head, Lady Ruth,” she replied. “Hearing praise means I did my job well—that is what concerns me.”

“Oh, you’re really quite selfless,” Lady Ruth continued. “That is hard to find among commoners.”

“On the contrary,” said Miss Barnes. “Those with more tend to be selfish because they try to hold on to what they have. Those with less understand what it’s like to have nothing and feel more compassion for others. Those with less tend to be commoners.”

“And those with more are aristocrats?” Lady Ruth asked. “So, by your definition, we are selfish people?”

“Lady Ruth,” said Henry, growing annoyed with her line of questioning. It sounded like she was attacking the nursemaid. “I’m sure that is not what Miss Barnes meant.”

“It certainly sounded like it,” Lady Ruth insisted, two pink spots appearing on her cheeks.

She had been rude first, yet she felt slighted. Quite frankly, he was appalled by her behaviour.

“You have misunderstood me, My Lady,” Miss Barnes said calmly. “You said selflessness was hard to find among commoners. I only wished to point out that it was more common than you believed. Of course, no matter your social status, there are always exceptions.”

“So, I gather you’re an expert,” Lady Ruth said dryly.

Miss Barnes chuckled. It did something odd to Henry’s insides. It was like someone tenderly stroked his hair while little winged creatures fluttered in his belly. It was nice ... and dangerous.

“Not at all, just a little experienced with people from all walks of life,” Miss Barnes replied. “I have been around those who have nothing and those who have everything that money can afford.”

“Tea, Miss Barnes?” Juliana asked, interrupting the tense conversation.

“No, thank you, My Lady,” the nursemaid said. “I should return to my workroom.”

“No, not yet,” Juliana insisted. “Please, have a cup of tea. It might be warm by now, so I’ll just ask Mrs Harris to bring another pot.”

“That is not necessary, My Lady,” said Miss Barnes. “Please.”

“Very well, but at least stay a while,” his sister said. “You’re always working and barely take time to rest. It must be tiring.”

Henry had noticed that about the nursemaid. She couldn’t sit still. Miss Barnes always had to be doing something with her hands or helping someone.

“Doing what you love is not tiring, My Lady,” said Miss Barnes.

Henry wished he had that kind of dedication. Life would be much more interesting if he could see life through her eyes. It was probably why he was so drawn to her.

“Where did you get this passion, Miss Barnes?” Lady Ruth asked, tilting her head in a rather mocking manner. “Did it come naturally, or was it something you worked to achieve? Or perhaps you merely convince yourself of it to make your job easier? It cannot be easy dealing with people, especially sick people.”

Lady Ruth probably didn’t realize it, but her words revealed a lot about her nature. She wasn’t as sweet as he initially believed, and seeing this side of her was unsettling.

“I cannot tell you if it is natural,” said Miss Barnes. “But I do know I have always had a need to help people. I have always enjoyed it.”

Lady Ruth smiled, but it didn’t seem sincere. “It’s wonderful to find people who are so passionate about their work. It’s difficult to find good workers these days.”

Henry cringed. It was no secret that aristocrats believed they were better than others below them, but there was no need to rub it in their faces.

“Good master, good workers,” Miss Barnes replied, surprising him.

Although the nursemaid was kind and soft-spoken, her words held weight. He wasn’t even mad that she implied that bad masters created bad workers because it was true for the most part. However, he didn’t expect her to say it. Oddly, seeing her so feisty was attractive, which was very unlike him. It seemed he wasn’t the only one admiring the nursemaid. Mr Bartlett watched her so carefully that he could probably draw her portrait in his sleep. The very thought of the vicar having designs on her was enough to make him clench his hands and imagine dragging the man out by his collar.

“I really must leave now, My Lady,” Miss Barnes said, standing. “I need to see if his lordship is still peacefully asleep. It’s only a nap, so he could wake up at any moment.”

She curtsied when Juliana nodded before leaving the room. Henry wanted to follow her and ensure Lady Ruth’s comments hadn’t hurt her, but that might cause suspicion.

“You haven’t touched your tea, Your Grace,” Lady Ruth pointed out.

He looked down at his cold cup of tea. “So I haven’t,” he said, placing the cup on the table. “I think I would like coffee instead.”

“You took the words out of my mouth, Your Grace,” said Mr Bartlett. “I think we have many things in common.”

Henry inwardly scoffed. They were nothing alike, and he was glad about it. Unfortunately, they were interested in the same woman. While Henry knew it was wrong to consider anything with a commoner, the vicar would embrace his feelings of attraction and pursue the nursemaid. In times like these, Henry wished he wasn’t so bound by his need to do the proper thing.