Chapter 7

Henry arrived at the dining room later that evening, earlier than everyone. He didn’t mind because it gave him more time to think. He had been trying to wrap his head around what occurred in the nursery earlier that day since he left the room.

Henry had been embarrassed and annoyed when his sister saw him, rendering him unable to say a word to her. He was worried he had come across as cold and unbothered, so he intended to make it up to her during dinner. It was Miss Barnes’ fault. She had awakened a vulnerability within him he hadn’t experienced in years, and now he couldn’t decide if he wanted to feel that way again.

For just a brief moment, Henry had been part of an unexpectedly wholesome and happy moment with his nephew. It had let down his defences in front of a stranger, but he had oddly felt safe. Not once did he believe she would take advantage of him, making him question the moment.

Miss Barnes was a stranger, someone he had just met, yet he had not felt threatened or concerned in her presence. Of course, he had been momentarily terrified at the thought of dropping his nephew, but she had talked him through his fears until it had just been a special moment. He smiled, recalling how right it had felt to have Tommy in his arms and Miss Barnes by his side. It showed him what he was missing by avoiding his nephew.

Sipping the brandy he had brought into the dining room, he leaned back in his chair, allowing himself to bask in the warm feelings from the afternoon. That was how one should feel about family, but he and his sister never had the opportunity to experience such warmth. Their parents had undoubtedly loved them, but they had never been affectionate, especially towards Henry. He had been strictly brought up to be the head of the family, and Juliana had to be the perfect lady.

The only person who had shown them affection was Aunt Hannah, and only when she could get away with it. The former duke had not wanted his sister to spoil his children by giving them unnecessary affection, so she had to be sneaky with her hugs and kisses. The only other person who had shown him some affection had been Thomas, his best friend.

Thomas had shown Henry what he was missing from his parents. At first, he had thought Thomas was a little odd for showing affection, but time had proven his parents were the ones at fault. Henry and Thomas became fast friends, and years later, when he revealed he was in love with Juliana, he couldn’t have been happier because he knew his sister was in good hands. He gained a brother, and his sister gained a loving husband—he couldn’t have asked for more.

However, their happiness was short-lived when he never returned from war. Thomas made life seem better by always making them laugh at his silly antics and being supportive. Losing him drained all colour from their lives, subjecting them to a world of dullness. Then, Rebecca stepped into the house and made a difference in less than a day.

Henry found himself smiling as he thought about the nursemaid. She struck him as someone who was all sunshine and daisies until someone stepped on her toes. He had seen her anger simmering below those lovely golden-brown eyes, but she had readily forgiven him with a sincere heart.

Most of the women he had encountered would rather take advantage of the situation and use emotional control than give their forgiveness. She was undoubtedly a breath of fresh air, and her optimism had already lightened the air around the house.

He hadn’t realized how his nephew’s behaviour—a cry for help—had affected everyone. Henry was calmer, the servants seemed more at ease, and even his sister looked better than usual. He had even carried his nephew—something he had never seen himself doing. He wouldn’t be surprised if she were an enchantress of some sort.

“What has made you smile like that, Henry?” Aunt Hannah asked, walking into the room.

Henry immediately sobered, standing up. “You have finally arrived,” he said, his cheeks slightly warm as he helped her to a chair. “Where is Jules?”

He hadn’t expected his aunt to find him smiling. She didn’t know the reason, but it was embarrassing enough because he knew the reason. The nursemaid was getting under his skin! She wasn’t even trying, yet here he was, thinking about her.

“She is on her way, I expect,” said Aunt Hannah. “I was asleep until moments ago. It was one of the best naps I have ever had. That nursemaid is amazing. If her tea can do such wonders, I can only imagine what she is capable of.”

It seemed his aunt wasn’t yet aware of what Miss Barnes had achieved. It was rather evident because Tommy was not crying or fussing, but perhaps his aunt was so used to his cries that she was no longer so affected and didn’t hear the difference.

“You’re welcome to enjoy the garden whenever you please,” he heard his sister saying before she appeared at the doorway.

To his amazement, Miss Barnes and Miss Ayres were behind her. It seemed they were having dinner with them, which was rather odd considering the women were hired help. Servants had their meals in the servants’ quarters—that was just the way it was. However, Henry didn’t mind, although it was highly irregular.

He had just sat down but stood up again, waiting for the women to enter the room and take a seat. Miss Barnes had been behind the women, so he hadn’t taken note of what she was wearing, but when he did, he found himself staring, unable to look away.

The plain woman of hours earlier had disappeared, revealing a pretty ice witch. The long-sleeved, white, and light blue evening dress complemented her fair skin and dark hair well, transforming her into someone who could easily hold her own among the aristocrats. No one would question her breeding.

Not only was the nursemaid brilliant at what she did, but she was also beautiful and graceful. Her attributes just kept on increasing, and he couldn’t help noticing. Quite frankly, she was bewitching him.

Henry shook those thoughts away as he helped them to their seats. Miss Barnes was last, smiling at him as he came to help her. Her perfume almost brought him to a standstill, the intoxicating scent considerably stronger than the first time.

Its floral scent enveloped him, gripping him by the throat. His hands involuntarily tightened on the nursemaid’s chair, fighting the waves of attraction coursing through his body. It was ridiculous what a mere scent could do to a person, but he couldn’t deny it.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said. Henry nodded, returning to his seat, his hands clenched by his sides as though he was afraid of himself. To be that affected by something as innocent as perfume ... However, it likely had more to do with the person wearing the scent than the perfume itself.

The first course was served, and his usually quiet sister kept the conversation flowing, asking the nursemaid many questions about her life. Henry had never heard a more intriguing life story, wondering how much more interesting the woman could possibly be.

“So, you saved the Duchess of Cambridge?” Juliana gasped. “How on earth did you know it was poison?”

“My grandmother is knowledgeable in plants and herbs,” Miss Barnes explained. “She passed that knowledge to me when I was very young. I recall going into the forest with her and being shown the medicinal properties of different plants. It was fascinating to me. I was also very interested in poisons and how people managed to discover the properties of poisonous plants.”

“Your grandmother must have taught you the symptoms of a poisoning,” said Juliana.

“She did,” the nursemaid confirmed. “The day I encountered the duchess had been mere days after I learned about deadly nightshade. It’s one of the most poisonous plants and rather popular. Someone had mixed the berries in with a mixed berry jam that the duchess enjoyed with her cheese.

Her husband’s mistress knew that she liked to take a little jam and cheese with her during long trips to her sister’s house, so she had planted the jam with the help of a servant. Fortunately, the duchess had not eaten too much, or she would have died too soon for me to have helped her.”

Henry had stopped eating, enthralled by the story. It was the most fascinating one he had come across yet.

“You should put your experiences in a book, Miss Barnes,” Aunt Hannah suggested. “Many people would wish to hear about your adventures.”

“I have said the same thing on many occasions,” Miss Ayres said, pursing her lips at her friend.

“I keep a journal—that is enough for me,” Miss Barnes said.

Henry resumed eating, barely aware of what was on his plate. The first course had come and gone, with the second course taking its place. He vaguely noticed parcels of fish and vegetables and a wine change.

“How did you know what poison it was when you first saw her?” Henry found himself asking.

“I wasn’t confident at first,” Miss Barnes replied, turning her lovely eyes towards him. “I was also just a child then, but I couldn’t stand by while the duchess suffered. She was exhibiting a few symptoms that fit the effects of the poison. The duchess was having hallucinations, and she appeared unable to move easily.

She was quite disoriented, complaining about a headache and crying that she was going blind. Someone in my village had once eaten a few berries from the nightshade plant and suffered similar symptoms. Unfortunately, he had eaten more than a handful of berries, ensuring his death. It was rather sad.”

Henry could tell she still felt sore about the situation despite it being many years ago. Her caring nature apparently knew no bounds.

“You seem to know many powerful, influential people, Miss Barnes,” Aunt Hannah commented.

“Well, the duchess often took me to her friends’ homes,” the nursemaid explained. “They were first fascinated with me, and eventually, I started treating their various ailments.”

Henry frowned, a little confused with his nursemaid. He paused. He had just referred to her as his nursemaid! He needed to rein in his thoughts before they caused him trouble.

“If you treat the wealthy, why would you decide to treat those who can hardly afford to pay you?” he asked.

Miss Barnes put her knife and fork down, tilting her head slightly as she looked at him. “Well, it’s quite simple, Your Grace,” she said. “The wealthy have a plethora of help available to them, but the poor do not. They deserve quality help as much as the wealthy do.”

“Miss Barnes uses her earnings to help the poor,” Miss Ayres added. “She believes it’s our responsibility to help others. Anyone can fall on hard times. It’s not fair to abandon those who cannot afford to make their health a priority.”

Henry raised his eyebrows. The woman sounded like she was lecturing him, as though he was the reason why others were poor. His family had donated to causes for centuries—they certainly were not the problem.

“I agree,” said Juliana. “We should do more to help the poor, and I commend you for all that you’re doing, Miss Barnes. Please let me know how I can be of more help to you and your cause.”

The nursemaid smiled brightly, making his heart miss a beat. Henry didn’t even understand how that was possible. He couldn’t recall feeling this way when he met his first love.

The topic changed to books she had read to further her knowledge, and he was amazed by how well-read she was. She was also amusing without trying to be, making everyone around the table laugh. Henry didn’t even know when they changed courses, but he looked down at his plate and realized they were eating roast beef, crispy potatoes, and gravy.

It was one of his favourite meals, yet he hadn’t tasted a thing despite being halfway through. This woman was obviously trouble for him. Henry couldn’t make the same mistake of falling for someone like her, not after the first disaster. Besides, it was far too soon, and she was a commoner. Perhaps it was just the fact that she was different. She had helped him carry his nephew for the first time. It was likely gratitude he was feeling. It couldn’t possibly be anything else.