Page 18 of The Secret Life of the Elusive Governess
“No, Your Grace,” Mr. Reddington replied patiently, as he could see that the Duke was preoccupied. “Well, not for that group, instead it is the workers in the limestone,chalk,and iron ore mining. They have not been paid. We have dealt with those who are in thewheat-fields, however, and have found that they are enjoying an over-abundance in the crop.”
“So, take the over-abundance, sell it to a foreign market, and then pay the miners,” Moses said easily. “The reapers have been paid, let them, by their efforts, pay others, too.”
“It is not as simple as that, Your Grace.” Mr. Reddington replied, “We will have to give the field workers an incentive.”
Moses’ brows arched in disbelief, “An incentive? Mr. Reddington, the fields are mine, they are benefiting from me. I have a right to take any abundance I want and use it how I want. Instruct the workers to hand over the extra bushels, count and measure them, and sell them to the shire of Holstein. Use that money then to pay the miners.”
The steward nodded, “I will do so, Your Grace. May I ask, what has been troubling you lately?”
Honestly, Moses didn’t need to ask himself the question as he knew the answer but didn’t—couldn’t—admit it to himself for fear that it would take root and grow.
“Just… family matters,” Moses replied, as he shook himself out of his pensiveness. “Nothing that would affect this office.”
But it might affect me,Moses added mentally.
The past week he had noticed a gradual turn in his perception of Miss Robins and came to wonder why he had not allowed his awareness of her to grow. In retrospect, that day in the garden over two years ago should have inspired some action on his part, but he had let the initial incentive dwindle down into nothing.
From that day on, she had only been a part of his household, like any other servant but…his eyes were slowly being opened. He had known that the governess was a beautiful creature but now he was seeing the beauty of her mind.
Wonderful artist, articulate in French, can quote Ovid by memory,Moses mused.What else is there to you, Miss Robins? Do you have any knowledge or any edified notion of business, economics, trade, ancient cultures, religions, or even astronomy?
“Is Her Grace doing well?” Mr. Reddington asked nonchalantly.
“Yes, actually,” Moses noted. “She is on the other side of her malady.”
Moses felt his steward’s eyes on the side of his face but didn’t deign to meet them.
“I am glad Her Grace is feeling better.”
“Thank you,” the Duke replied.
Moving to the window, Moses trained one ear to the scratching of his steward as he made notes, but trained his eyes out towards the nearby town where one thing he had prided himself on doing was occurring. He had initiated a constant relay of street cleaners to keep his community clean.
Moses, upon seeing the filthy streets in London, had pledged in his heart to not allow his district to be so. The pestilence from garbage killed more people than natural causes and the Duke knew that his most precious resource was his people. It was, therefore, sensible to protect them in any way he could.
His moss-green gaze lifted to trace over the graceful arch of the church’s spires and bell tower. His eyes traced over the belfry and he actively repressed the memory of when Lavinia had been fitful, hysteric after Josephine had been born and the doctors had administered drugs so powerful, she was transformed into a living doll—alive but insentient.
“Your Grace?” Mr. Reddington said, “This order of collection, examination, and trade is effective immediately, correct?”
“Correct,” Moses replied succinctly.
When Lavinia had come back to him, Moses had felt his fear leave him little by little. Only to go through the same fear during the many miniature spells Lavinia would have over the next few years. Each time Lavinia had recovered, a part of her had not. She had changed into a person Moses did not recognize some days.
I am so definitive in my work but I’m floundering in my home affairs,Moses bemoaned, while looking out with bleakness circulating his mind.
What am I going to do with this sudden connection I have with Miss Robins?
* * *
“Good morning, Miss Robins.” Miss Janet Orville, the Duchess’ lady maid, said from the doorway of Caroline’s schoolroom. “Her Grace needs to speak with you.”
Caroline’s eyebrows lifted almost unperceivably, but she stood in the next moment. “Keep working, Lord Hayward and Lady Josephine, as I will be back soon. I will come with you, Miss Orville.”
With a nod to the Duchess’ maid, Caroline left the room and followed her fellow servant down the corridor, “How is Her Grace today?”
“She is well, Miss Robins,” Miss Orville replied, her hair tucked under a ruffled white cotton hat trimmed with a silk ribbon.“I dare say happy, even.”
Then what would she want with me?
