Page 23 of The Secret Life of the Elusive Governess
She huffed and after closing her book, stood from her chaise-lounge, “There comes a time for a change, Moses.”
The Duke still had his doubts but seeing her resolve, nodded, “I will let Hinds appraise the carriage driver and Miss Robins to ready the children.”
“I will do those on my way down,” the Duchess suddenly offered, while gathering her silky blue skirts, “And I can very well dress my own children.”
Again, Moses felt something was strange; this was not his wife’s natural behavior, but he accepted it. “Very well, go ahead then.”
Smiling, Lavinia left the rooms and Moses' eyes trailed after her but only for a fleeting moment. He refocused with a slight furrow in the middle of his brows.
Why is Miss Robins avoiding me? Have I done something to offend her? And if so, what on Earth could it be?
The past week the Duke had noticed a dearth growing between him and Miss Robins. At first, it had been subtle, almost unnoticeable but the fifth day that she had deliberately not looked at him, he had gotten the inkling that something was wrong.
What had he done? Had he done anything at all? Just as he had found a way of connecting with her, she was gone. A coolness that superseded professional formality coated her interactions with him and it both confused and irked him. He had pledged to secure her position and he had done so. Her very presence under his roof was proof of his actions, so why was she so distant?
“Moses!”
Sapping out of his reverie, Moses spun to see an irritated Lavinia. Her tone was so sharp that the Duke realized that she had probably been calling him for a long while. Her dress was different from the silk she had been wearing before, as she was now robed in a round-cottage gown of fine cambric, with a pelisse over it.
Clearing his throat, Moses replied as casually as he could, “I suppose you are ready then?”
“And you are not.” The Duchess’ tone was tight and edging into argumentative.
“I only need to change my Hessians, Lavinia,” Moses replied, repressing an exasperated roll of his eyes and speaking in an irritated tone.
Without paying her much mind, he sat, and changed into appropriate footwear. Standing, he took a skirted frock coat and donned it.
“Aren’t you going to wear a hat?” the Duchess questioned.
Shaking his head in a wordless no, Moses turned and extended his arm to her. “Milady?”
Lavinia smiled and took his arm, “We’re off then.”
At the landing of the stairs, Moses fought to keep his eyes from darting to the direction of the servants’ wing or the schoolroom and allowed Lavinia to descend before him. His eyes did light up at seeing Nicholas and Josephine standing there dressed in light jackets.
“Father!” Josephine ran to him as he landed on the last stair.
Smiling indulgently, Moses grasped her hand. “We’re going for a carriage ride, little duck, are you excited?”
“Yes!” She sang.
The Duke then engaged his son as they left the room, past the foyer and into the carriage-gate to wait. “Nicholas, I hear that you are partial to phaetons.”
The boy’s staid countenance lit up at the word, “I am, Father, they are so fast and they look daring.”
The Duchess delicately cleared her throat from slightly behind them, “And how did you come by this knowledge, Moses?”
Curses!
He was about to speak when the carriage came around and with it a breath of relief. “We’ll speak on that later, Lavinia, but the carriage is here. Let us enter.”
“Good day, Your Graces,” Mr. Collins, the Irish coachman, greeted in a smooth light brogue, the rumbling ‘r’ of his dialect very distinct. “May I assist Her Grace, Lord Hayward and Lady Josephine inside?”
“No, thank you, Mr. Collins,” Moses replied. “I will do that.”
After assisting both children into the carriage, Moses helped a tight-faced Lavinia into the vehicle and entered. “The countryside road, Mr. Collins, near the wildflower meadows.”
“Understood, Your Grace,” the driver replied, and with a soft snap of the reins, the carriage was off.
