The Governess of Highland Hall (8 page)

The next afternoon Julia took Millie’s hand and led her across the back courtyard. “It’s a lovely day for a walk. Andrew, will you show us the way to the gardens?”

“Follow me,” he called over his shoulder as he raced down the gravel path.

Millie sighed. “He always runs ahead.”

Julia laughed. “My brother used to do that as well.”

“You have a brother too?”

Julia nodded. “Jonathan is in school in London. He’s studying to become a doctor.”

“Do you miss him?”

“Very much. I hope he’ll visit us at Christmas, but we’ll have to wait and see.”

They followed Andrew through an arched stone gateway and into the gardens. Julia’s steps slowed as she took in the magical setting. Neatly trimmed hedges and a high stone wall enclosed the garden. Gravel pathways bordered with perennial flower beds crisscrossed the close-clipped sod. A small pond with a fountain stood in the center, surrounded by a few late-blooming roses. “Oh, it’s lovely.”

“Look at these.” Millie bent and picked up a handful of blooms. She held them up to show Julia. “I love purple flowers.”

“I believe those are asters.”

Millie smiled.

Andrew kicked a small stone down the path. Julia and Millie followed at a safe distance. As they rounded the hedge at the corner, Sarah Ramsey came into view, sitting on a wooden bench with a book in hand. She looked up and greeted them with a timid smile.

“Hello, Aunt Sarah.” Andrew ran toward her.

Millie scampered after him.

Julia greeted Sarah and then turned to the children. “I’d like you to find five signs of autumn.”

Millie bit her lip and a slight frown creased her forehead.

“Consider it a treasure hunt with a prize for your best efforts,” Julia added.

The children hurried off.

“Would you like to sit down?” Sarah asked.

“Thank you.” Julia settled on the bench beside her. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

Sarah nodded and looked up at the clear blue sky. “Autumn is my favorite season.”

“Mine too, although I’m also very fond of spring.”

Sarah smiled and looked down at her book again.

“What are you reading?”

“
Pride and Prejudice
. It’s one of my favorites. Have you read it?”

Julia smiled. “Several times. I’ve always admired Elizabeth Bennett.”

“Oh yes. I like Lizzy too. And Mr. Darcy is an interesting character. There is so much more to him than it seems at first.” She looked down and turned the page. “I was just reading the scene where Lizzy walks to Netherfield.”

Julia caught sight of Sarah’s right hand, and her reply stuck in her throat. Sarah’s fingers were small and misshapen, and her wrist bent at a severe angle. Julia’s thoughts flashed back through the past two days. Each time they’d met, Sarah had hidden her hand behind her back or in the folds of her skirt, and she walked with a slight limp.

Sarah looked up, and her gaze connected with Julia’s. She must have read the sympathy in Julia’s eyes, because her cheeks turned a deep shade of pink and she slipped her hand under the book.

If only she could assure Sarah she wasn’t bothered by her handicap. She’d certainly seen much worse at the medical clinic in India. But unless Sarah spoke of it first, it wouldn’t be proper for Julia to mention it.

She shifted her gaze to the flower beds and prayed her friendship with Sarah would grow and that someday they would speak freely about matters that were close to their hearts. Until then, Julia would show Sarah the kindness and acceptance she deserved.

“This seems to be the problem, sir.” Clark Dalton, Highland’s head gardener, tapped the pipe running down the far wall of the greenhouse. “There’s a leak at the joint, which lowers the pressure and prevents the sprinklers from reaching the plants on the outer edges.”

William leaned closer, surveying the old pipe. “It looks like we’re losing quite a bit of water.”

“I’m afraid so, sir. I noticed these loose floorboards this morning. Seems the water has been dripping down and rotting the wood.”

“It’s probably been going on for some time then.”

Dalton gave a sober nod. “I thought the warmth of the summer season had lowered the water level and caused the pressure to drop.” He clicked his tongue, looking chagrined. “I’m sorry I misjudged the situation.”

William straightened. “It’s all right, Dalton. It’s an easy mistake to make. I appreciate you bringing it to my attention.” The gardener seemed to be an intelligent and respectful man, about the same age as William, though he had a stockier build and deeply tanned skin.

Dalton’s father had been the head gardener until his death last year. The son had been promoted, and now he oversaw two other young men, caring for the greenhouses and grounds as well as the kitchen gardens and flower gardens.

“I’ve sent a message to Harold Bradley in Fulton,” Dalton continued. “His father helped build the greenhouse and install the pipes. I thought he might be able to help.”

“Very good. Let me know what he says.”

“I will, sir.”

William heard voices in the garden behind the greenhouse. He looked up and spotted Andrew and Millicent running down the garden path. Millicent bent and scooped up a brightly colored leaf, adding it to the collection in her hand. It was good to see them outdoors, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine in such a happy and carefree manner. Miss Foster sat on a bench nearby, watching the children and conversing with his sister, Sarah. It pleased him to see Miss Foster there.

Perhaps she could draw Sarah out and become a companion for her. His sister needed something beyond her books and needlework to occupy her time. He had hoped she would take on the role of mistress at Highland, but she’d always been shy and lacked confidence. He supposed it was because of her withered hand and arm.

It was such a shame. She had a kind heart and pleasant features, though
her manner of dress and hairstyle were simple and unadorned. He doubted she would ever marry, since she barely spoke to any of the guests he invited into their home. But that was all right. He loved her, and she would always have a home with him.

He shifted his gaze back to the pipes. “I hope Bradley can repair it. If he suggests replacing the system, you must speak to me first. We need to solve the problem in the most economical way possible.”

Dalton continued to stare out the greenhouse window as if he hadn’t heard a word William said.

William followed his gaze to the young ladies seated in the garden. Did he have his eye on Miss Foster? Had he made her acquaintance? Irritation buzzed along his nerves. “Dalton, are you listening to me?”

The gardener jerked his gaze back to William and blinked. “What? I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t hear what you said.”

“Obviously.” He scowled at the gardener. “If you expect to remain employed at Highland, you’d best keep your mind on your work and not on the feminine forms in the garden.”

Dalton’s ears tinged red. “Yes sir.”

William finished his instructions to the gardener and left the greenhouse. The children’s laughter echoed back to him as he passed under the archway in the garden wall and walked toward the house.

So Miss Foster had attracted the attention of at least two of his staff. How many others had their eye on her? He huffed as he strode across the back courtyard. If one of those men wooed her, she would most likely accept his proposal and resign her position. If that happened, he’d have to start his search all over again.

What an unhappy turn of events. Here he’d finally found a governess who had a sensible head on her shoulders, and he might lose her before the one-month trial had even finished. That’s what he got for hiring a young woman who was so attractive.

But he didn’t like the idea of losing Julia Foster, not to Dalton the gardener, Nelson the footman, or anyone else.

Clark Dalton lowered his head and leaned on the wooden greenhouse shelving. What had he been thinking? If he was going to hold on to his position, and he must, then he’d best keep his head down and his eyes on the seeds and soil, not on Miss Sarah Ramsey.

Father, help me rein in my thoughts. Don’t let me wander off the path You’ve marked out for me
.

Caring for the gardens and grounds was in his blood. He’d been raised at Highland and learned those skills at his father’s side. But it was a solitary life, working from sunrise to sunset with only the plants and trees as his companions. He did oversee two younger under-gardeners, but both were merely boys. They had little schooling or interest beyond their daily duties, while he longed for intelligent conversation with someone who could discuss books, politics, faith, and life past the gate at Highland.

From the first time he had seen Miss Ramsey walking in the garden, his heart had been drawn to her. The kindness in her eyes and her gentle smile impressed him deeply. Now he watched for her every day. What would he do when the cold weather arrived and her walks in the garden ceased? How would he catch a glimpse of her?

With a heavy sigh, he pulled his gloves from his jacket pocket and tugged them on. Maybe the coming change in seasons was for the best. Perhaps it would give his heart time to realize what a fool he was for thinking—

“Excuse me, Mr. Dalton?”

He pulled in a sharp breath and turned.

Miss Ramsey stood in the greenhouse doorway, her soft blue shawl draped around her shoulders and her book in her hand. “I’m sorry to disturb you.”

“No, miss. It’s all right. You’re not disturbing me.”

She sent him a sweet smile. “I thought you should know the arm of the bench in the garden has come loose.”

He stared at her a moment, taking in the loveliness of her face and
form. Her soft pink cheeks, so much like rose petals, and her lovely brown eyes like those of a newborn calf.

Her smiled faded. “Mr. Dalton, are you all right?”

He blinked and straightened. “Yes, miss. I’m fine. I’ll see to repairing the bench right away.”

“Oh, there’s no need to hurry.” She glanced around the greenhouse. “I’m sure you must be very busy taking care of all these flowers as well as the estate grounds.”

“Highland is a large estate, but I’m grateful for my work. I enjoy it very much.”

“I can see why. It’s all so lovely.” She glanced out the greenhouse windows to the garden beyond. “Our home in London doesn’t have much of a garden. If we want to enjoy time outdoors, we must to go to a park.”

He nodded, enjoying the sound of her voice.

“So you can see why I’ve been so eager to spend time in the garden.”

“You’re wise to take advantage of it now. The temperatures will be dropping soon, and when it freezes, that will be the end of most of these flowers until next year.”

“Except for those you have in the greenhouse.” She smiled and shifted her gaze to the blooms around him.

“Yes, miss, that’s true.” He turned and scanned the rows of plants and flowers he tended year round.

“The roses are beautiful.” She leaned forward and sniffed a deep red bloom. “Their fragrance is heavenly.”

He pulled his clippers from his back pocket, snipped the rose stem, and held it out to her.

She hesitated, her gaze darting from the rose to his face and back to the flower.

His heart sank like a rock tossed in a pond. What a fool! Someone of his station should not offer a rose to the mistress of the house! It was too forward. “I’m sorry, miss. I meant no offense.”

“You haven’t offended me. It’s a lovely gesture. It’s just”—she tucked her
book under her right arm and reached for the rose with her left—“I have a bit of a problem carrying things sometimes.”

He studied her, not understanding.

She slowly withdrew her hand from the folds of her skirt and held it out. “I don’t have full use of my right hand and arm, and sometimes that makes it difficult to …”

His heart clenched. Had she been injured? Did it still cause her pain? “It’s all right, miss. I’d be happy to cut and carry a bouquet for you.” He turned back to the roses. “Which color do you prefer?”

“I like them all, but I suppose the pink are my favorite.”

“Pink it is then.” He clipped several roses, some buds that were just beginning to open and some in full bloom. After he had cut at least a dozen, he turned and showed her the bouquet. “How does that look?”