Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

" G ood girl," Caroline encouraged as she walked around the pianoforte, nodding her head along to the rhythm of the music. "Very well done."

"You are just saying that," Isabella grumbled, scrunching her face into a tight ball as if annoyed; her hands still moved ably across the keys of the pianoforte, doing a rather adept job at playing as she spoke. "You have to."

"On the contrary," Caroline chuckled, "I am the one person who does not have to say that. And believe me…" Caroline made sure to catch Isabella's eye, winking at her. "… if you sounded horrendous, I would let you know it."

Isabella snorted, and as she did, she accidentally struck the wrong key. "Oh!"

"Concentrate…"

"It was not my fault!"

"Are you not the one playing?"

Making sure not to make another mistake, Isabella pushed her lips together and pulled a quick face at Caroline. "You made me do it."

"I made you do nothing."

"Yes, you did!"

"Why, if I had such control of your fingers as you claim, do you not think I would be doing a far better job playing this piece than you are right now?"

Isabella's eyes widened, and she struck another wrong key. "You said I was doing well! You just said?—"

"Joking," Caroline chuckled. She walked behind where Isabella was sitting, resting a hand on her shoulder and giving it a squeeze. "I am just joking. You are playing beautifully."

"You think?"

"Now, concentrate…" She reached over Isabella's shoulder and turned the page on the music sheets. "Here—" she then instructed, indicating a particularly difficult section that was coming up. "Remember what I showed you."

To this, Isabella did not respond. Rather, she tightened her face as she focused on the keys before her, gliding across them in a way that almost looked effortless. Caroline knew that not to be the truth, however, as they had spent the entire morning working toward this exact task.

And indeed, she held her breath as the young girl played the melody, her heart pounding with excitement because she wanted nothing more than for Isabella to complete it without fault. So strange that she cared this much for a role she did not even want. So strange that she had grown into it these past few days the way that she had. So strange that… no, actually…

Not strange at all. Not anymore, anyhow.

For two years, Caroline had been a companion for Esther, and they were two wonderful years that she would not take back for anything. But she had never felt needed in the role—more that she was accepted in it. With nowhere else to go, Esther had taken her in and cared for her when it was supposed to be the other way around. But still she cherished it, such that when she took on this new role as governess, she had worried she might be leaving behind more than she realized.

As it turned out, nothing could have been further from the truth.

For three days only, Caroline had worked as Isabella's governess, and in that time, she had developed a relationship with the young girl that she might never have dreamed was possible. Such that she felt invested in the girl's life in a way that made her want to see Isabella do well, that made her feel needed, that made her feel special and appreciated like she never had before.

Three days only, and already Caroline dreaded the eventual day when she and Esther would have to leave and go back home. How very strange.

"I did it!" Isabella cried out excitedly the moment she got through the piece. "I did it! Did you hear!"

Caroline clapped. "Well done, Isabella! See, I told you it was not difficult."

"Well, it was," Isabella said sheepishly. "If it was easy, it would not have taken me all morning."

"Nothing worth doing should be easy."

"Well, that doesn't make any sense," Isabella frowned.

Caroline chuckled. "It means that we should take pride in that which is hard to accomplish. If something is easy and everyone can do it, then why bother? Why feel anything other than resigned apathy if there is no challenge behind it? But if a thing is worked for, if you apply yourself, and then you achieve it… well, personally, I think that makes it all the more satisfying, don't you?"

Isabella did not look as if she agreed. "It sounds like an excuse you have just come up with to try and make me study harder."

"You got me," Caroline laughed.

"I knew it!"

"Now, come on…" She turned the sheet of music back. "Again, thank you. Let us make sure the first time was not luck."

Isabella's eyes flashed, and she went back to playing, the concentration evident on her face. Caroline watched and listened, again unable to believe how invested she had become in this little girl's life.

It was all Isabella, too—the reason for the way she had taken to this role as governess. The little girl was a marvel. Bright. Funny. Eager to learn. And the kindest soul Caroline had ever met. Really, she found it beyond incredible that a girl such as this had been born to someone as cold and malicious as His Grace… not that she would ever say such a thing out loud.

"I want to show father!" Isabella decreed when she finished it for a second time, again without fault. "He will be so pleased."

"Perhaps we should practice a few more times first?"

"What is the matter?" Isabella pumped her eyebrows. "Scared of what father will say if I make a mistake?"

Caroline looked at her flatly. "No. But are you?"

"Ha!" Isabella laughed. "Father does not scare me." She tried to look brave but withered under Caroline's cocked eyebrow. "Well… not always. But I can do it! I know I can! And he will be so happy if he sees. He always said that my pianoforte skills needed work. My last governess was hopeless at teaching me."

"Is that right?"

"Oh, she was good at other things. Only musically, she was not so great." She pushed her lips together. "Not that it would have made much of a difference…" Suddenly, she bowed her head, and her shoulders slumped. "Perhaps I should practice some more before showing him. I do not want him to think that you are not teaching me properly. What if he makes you leave like the other ones?"

Caroline chuckled. "I do not think there is much chance of that happening." That was one thing she was certain of.

"But he will!" she protested, sounding worried. "He always does. It is as if he takes pleasure from it."

"I am sure that is not true. He just…" She paused, making certain that she did not say anything negative to Isabella about her father. That simply would not do. "He wants the best for you."

"I suppose so…" Isabella sighed, shoulders slumping further. "I just wish he was not so harsh, sometimes. Oh sure, when we are not talking of my education, he is as loving as I could hope for. A few years ago, especially, I do not think I ever saw him yell. Not once."

"Really?" Caroline frowned, finding that hard to imagine.

"Really," Isabella said. "It is only recently as I have grown older that he has started to turn into a grumpy old man. And while I still love him—I do," she insisted, making sure that Caroline could see it, "sometimes, I wish he was the same as he used to be. I miss him."

Caroline rested a hand gently on her shoulder. "He does love you, still. Anyone can see it."

"I know…"

"And take my word for it, a father who loves his daughter like that is a rare thing. I should know."

"Oh?" Isabella perked up. "What was your father like? Forgive me for asking, but I have not heard you mention him. And grandmother told me not to be nosy when I asked." She grimaced. "And now, I am thinking there is a reason for that. Sorry…"

Caroline's mind flashed back to images of her own father. Not those from her childhood, for they were pleasant memories from what she could recall. Rather, the recent memories, the ones that had led her to run away in the first place. She could still hear her mother screaming… she could still remember the way she had cried when she had seen it… memories that brought physical pain to her being, such that she clutched at her stomach as if someone had stabbed her.

"Caroline…" Isabella asked softly, "are you all right? I did not mean to pry?—"

"No, no." Caroline shook the memories away and forced herself to forget. "I just had a cramp."

"A cramp?"

Caroline chuckled. "When you are a little older, perhaps. But to answer your question, my father was loving in most of the ways that mattered. But he was also a man of the peerage, and when my husband-to-be left me at the altar, he seemed to forget that it was his daughter he was dealing with, seeing me as a nuisance that he had to had solve somehow. I still believe he loves me…" She thought again to her real father, wondering if those words were true. "I suppose he just forgot that."

She hated lying. To Isabella of all people. But she had no choice, for the truth would not only put her own life in danger, but that of everyone she knew…

"Enough of that." Caroline straightened up and indicated back to the pianoforte. "You wish to impress your father? Try impressing me first."

"I want to show father," she complained.

"One more time, and if you get it perfect, we will show him."

"Today?"

Caroline hesitated. "Yes. Today."

Three days, and Caroline had done well to avoid His Grace… a trend that she would very much like to continue with. Even supper had been taken without his indomitable presence as for three nights in a row he had been too busy to join them in eating. And each night as Caroline sat herself down, bracing for his appearance only to learn that he was not coming, she would breathe a sigh of relief, thankful that once again she was able to get through the day without seeing him.

It was easy for Caroline to convince herself the reason for this avoidance was an avid dislike for the man. He was, after all, cruel and rude and arrogant and smug and cold and dispassionate and… choose your adjective, for they all fit. A more horrid man she had rarely encountered. And the way he spoke to her was enough to make her blood boil just to think.

And yet…

The kiss that they shared still lingered in her mind. The way it made her feel whenever she chose to remember it. Her body would flush. Her stomach would flutter. Her mouth would salivate, and more.

He had been commanding in a way she had loved. The threats he had made, and the implications behind them, had her tossing of a night to know he slept so close to where she did. She did not wish to feel this way, but as she had learnt the hard way, rarely did one get what they wished for.

How had it happened? Why had it happened? Was it an accident? Was it a test? Surely, His Grace did not covet Caroline, for that felt like insanity. Likely, and this was what she chose to focus most on, it was a means to scare her away… a rather strange tactic, she had to admit, but one she would not fall for again.

"I did it!" Isabella finished, spinning about to find Caroline, who was standing behind her. A big grin on her face, eyes dancing, she could not have looked more pleased. "See! It was not luck at all!"

Caroline had not been paying attention, but she smiled nonetheless and nodded her agreement. "Very well done."

"Shall I fetch father? I would very much like to show him."

Carline's chest tightened, and her stomach twisted. "Ah… yes, that is a good idea. I will just…" She looked about as if for an answer.

"Miss Holloway!" Isabella cried suddenly to which one of the manor's many maids popped her head in to answer. "Fetch father, please. Tell him I have something to show him."

"I am afraid he is out riding at the moment, Miss," Miss Holloway answered. "But I shall inform him the moment he is home."

"Oh…" Isabella's face scrunched into disappointment. "Yes, will you please."

"There we go then. On the plus side, it gives you plenty more time to practice." Caroline breathed a sigh of relief, thankful for His Grace and the horse ride he had gone on, hoping that it extended long into the afternoon, so she might manage at least one more day without having to see him again.

That, she knew, was for the best.