Chapter Twelve

The Christmas celebration had gone as well as Robbie had hoped. Better, in many ways. Adam had clearly been confused at first, but he’d quickly embraced the joy of it. Watching him play with such abandon and glee had done her heart good. He’d always been such a serious child. With so few opportunities to play with other children, he didn’t really know how.

Lord Jonquil was proving an oddly perfect playmate. He’d a restless joyfulness about him that was infectious. His boundless enthusiasm helped Adam feel courage enough to participate in something so unfamiliar to him. But the gentleman was also attentive and quick to address the wee boy’s struggles and concerns.

Again and again her thoughts had returned to that moment when, without warning, Adam had burst into tears. Lord Jonquil had held him and comforted him precisely the way a loving father would. Seeing it had offered Robbie’s heart a little respite from the worry that had rested there for months. She felt so terribly alone in her efforts to give Adam stability and reassurance.

She stood at a small window near the back of the house. Though she told herself she hadn’t any particular reason for placing herself in that specific spot, the more honest part of her knew why she was there. Through the glass she could catch the smallest glimpse of Howard working out in the garden corner. His stone had finally arrived, and he’d hired on local men to help with building the garden wall. They were making quick headway. She enjoyed watching him take pleasure and satisfaction in his work.

Adam had spent time that morning studying the horse Howard had carved for him. He’d listed for Robbie all the bits of it he found interesting or lifelike. Her little lad appreciated the gift, and receiving it served as a testimonial that he was thought of and cared about. What a good and kind man Howard was proving himself to be.

And, oh, the tender moment they’d shared the night it had rained. Warmth spread from the top of her head to the tips of her toes every time she thought back on it. Nothing in that brief touch of his arms to hers and her lips to his cheek ought to’ve impacted her as much as it had, and yet she felt in many ways as if everything had changed in the length of those few breaths.

Into her reverie came the sound of footsteps. She assumed a neutral expression and looked over her shoulder to see who was passing by. It was Lady Jonquil. She didn’t continue on her way but stopped at the window as well.

“Forgive the intrusion,” she said.

Flustered and a bit embarrassed, Robbie said, “Nothing to interrupt, I assure you.”

The lady nodded but not as if she fully believed Robbie’s assertion. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, since you are better acquainted with Her Grace than I am, whether or not you think she is likely to allow Adam to spend his school holidays here. We would very much like him to do so whenever possible. Obviously, sometimes it won’t be feasible. But when he can stay with us, we would like for him to.”

That did Robbie’s heart good, but her mind immediately pointed out a coming difficulty. “You will soon enough have a bairn of your own to look after. As your family grows, having Adam among your number will grow less convenient.”

Lady Jonquil did not look discouraged. Indeed, she appeared almost amused. “My husband and I both came from large families, at least compared to others of our station, and we hope to have a large family of our own. A bit of chaos will hardly sink us.”

“Adam is not likely to invite chaos. He’s far more likely to be overlooked.”

Lady Jonquil shook her head. “He is quiet, yes, but even at only eight years old he has a presence. He may be overlooked now, but were I one to place wagers, I’d bet every shilling to my name that he will grow up to be a gentleman no one overlooks.”

“I suppose it is difficult for me to imagine him grown. I still sometimes think of him as the tiny infant I used to hold.”

“I suppose that contradiction is difficult to reconcile for many people. In time, children become adults.” And then, her voice a little quieter, she added, “If life is kind.”

She seemed to shake off the heaviness of that observation. Her face lightened once more. This was a lady who’d known sorrow and had found a way to continue on. It was little wonder she’d so easily recognized the grief Adam felt.

“Would you accompany me a moment?” she asked. “There is something else I wish to ask you.”

Robbie agreed. The two of them walked away from the window and to the staircase, with its intricate carved flowers.

“Before I ask my question,” Lady Jonquil said, “I must make a somewhat indelicate observation.”

What could that possibly be?

“Upon your arrival here, I realized you are younger than I thought when I first saw you for that brief moment at Falstone Castle. In my defense, the room you were in was poorly lit, the morning was quite early, and without divulging too many personal secrets, I was struggling with a very heavy worry at the time. My mind was not entirely clear.”

“I am not offended,” Robbie reassured her. With a smile, she added, “The fact that you offered up poor lighting as an excuse for my apparently elderly appearance does wonders for my potentially battered confidence.”

“I thank you for your generosity. My reason for making the observation is that I had thought you might not be interested in a new position after your time ends at Falstone Castle, which, considering Adam is at the age when he would have a governess, is likely soon. But you are quite young enough to be anticipating many more years as a nursemaid.”

They crossed through a small antechamber, with two doors on either side. Lady Jonquil led the way to the door on the right. The bedchamber beyond, with its soft fabrics and dressing table with lady’s toilette accessories, must have been Lady Jonquil’s. They passed through it and through yet another door. This one led to a cozily appointed sitting room, perfectly circular in shape, with one section of the walls made entirely of windows. The view was breathtaking: the mountains in the distance, the grounds of the estate spread out below.

“We will be welcoming our addition to our family before the year is out.” Lady Jonquil brushed her hand lightly over her middle, something she likely didn’t realize she did somewhat regularly. “If you are interested in continuing to work as a nursemaid, we would be deeply grateful if you would consider the possibility of coming here. As I said, we hope ours will be a large family. You would have a secure position for years to come if that’s what you want.”

Though servants didn’t usually speak about personal matters with people of Lady Jonquil’s station, Robbie couldn’t help being as forthcoming as the lady had been with her. “I’ll confess, my lady, you’ve hit upon a matter I’ve been pondering myself. My time with Adam will be over soon enough—there’s no avoiding that—but I’m nae certain what I hope lies ahead for me. I’m far more worried about what lies ahead for him.” Robbie realized something. “If I am here as a nursemaid, he would see me regularly too.”

“Please do not think that is the only reason we have extended the offer. I have seen again and again your kind tenderness and your willingness to help Adam do difficult things, and he clearly loves you and depends on you. That speaks highly of you as a nursemaid. That the arrangement would allow Adam to continue to have you in his life is simply an additional benefit.”

Robbie paced a little bit away. “I have enjoyed being a nursemaid, but...” How could she explain her hesitancy to accept a position that anyone else in her situation would’ve dropped to their knees in gratitude to have been offered?

“But your thoughts have begun turning to even more pleasant possibilities?” Lady Jonquil said.

Robbie felt a bit at a loss for words. Admitting to the feelings she herself had only just begun to recognize froze her tongue.

“Lest you think I am shocked or horrified or disapproving”—the lady motioned to the wall of windows—“I brought you here because I felt it would be more conducive to your efforts than your previous location.”

Robbie crossed to the windows and looked out. She needed but a moment to understand Lady Jonquil’s purpose. These windows offered a full view of the workers on the grounds. She could see all they were doing, all that was being accomplished. She could see Howard as he walked about offering instructions and assistance. This was not the tiny glimpse through an awkwardly placed window she had afforded herself below.

“I hadn’t come here expecting this.”

“Do you mean you hadn’t come to this room expecting this view?” Lady Jonquil asked. “Or that you hadn’t come to Brier Hill expecting to meet someone like Mr. Simpkin?” There was no mocking in the question, only heartfelt compassion.

“Both,” Robbie admitted. “I don’t know how to proceed. I do think he has many of the same feelings for me that I do for him. There is a possibility that, if those feelings grow, we could build a life together. I very much like the idea of that.”

Lady Jonquil did not offer her own thoughts or make any effort to interrupt. She simply listened.

“Adam has a degree of dislike for him, though I’m at a loss as to why.” She shook her head. “I don’t think there is anything about Howard—Mr. Simpkin’s character that warrants that distrust. I cannot sort out why Adam dislikes him.”

“You have been with Adam every day of his life until he was sent away to school. I suspect he jealously guards his time with you now that you are together again. He is a very perceptive boy, more even than most. He may have sensed even before you did the tug you felt toward ‘Howard.’”

“And if something does grow between Howard and me, I’d very seldom see Adam.” She sighed. “No matter what I choose, someone’ll be unhappy.”

“And has the necessity of making this choice been presented to you already?” Again, Lady Jonquil managed to pose a question very delicately that could have, if not made with care, sounded like a criticism.

“No. Howard’s nae made any offers or proposals.”

“Perhaps a solution will present itself before that bridge is unavoidably before you.” Lady Jonquil motioned subtly to the window. “Please remain here as long as you wish. I often stand here and watch my husband as he plays with the dog. There is something peaceful and joyous in simply seeing the person you love.”

Robbie nodded. She understood that well.

“And while you enjoy the afternoon’s respite,” Lady Jonquil added, “I intend to write a letter.”

“To whom?” Robbie asked.

“To a certain duchess to whom I mean to insist that a certain little duke be permitted to come here from Harrow whenever possible.”

“ Insist rather than ask ?”

“Mine is often a quiet disposition,” Lady Jonquil said. “But I am more than capable of being fierce when I need to be. And that little boy needs me to be.”

With that, Lady Jonquil slipped from the room, her posture one of a warrior.

Robbie turned her attention to the garden below and took comfort in seeing Howard there, so confident and sure and steady.

If the duchess would allow Adam to spend at least some holidays with Lord and Lady Jonquil, then Robbie no longer being at the castle would not be so devastating a blow to the wee boy. If she were here , Adam would have her every bit as much in his life as he would if she remained at Falstone.

She did not yet know what the future might hold, but two distinct possibilities lay ahead of her: a life with Howard, if he offered, traveling the kingdom and building gardens together. Or a nursemaid here at Brier Hill as part of the Jonquil family and part of Adam’s life.

There was happiness and sorrow to be had down both paths, and she hadn’t yet the first idea which would prove hers in the end.