Dominic effected a sigh surely too deep and overdone for such a simple question.
He was saved from answering when Louise bounded over. “Retta, look what I have found? What is it?”
She bent forward, examining the shiny brown hide of a lepidoptera pupa. “It appears to be a caterpillar undergoing metamorphosis. We shall find a book to discover which species, as I am not well-versed in the study of insects. Keep it safe. We do not want to harm the pupa.”
“Pupa,” the girl said reverently. The oval-shaped case was cradled in her palm. “I shall be very careful.” She walked away slowly, cautiously, treating the developing moth as though it was a precious jewel.
“She is tenderhearted.” Henrietta blinked at the sting in her eyes. An ache had started pumping within, for well she remembered that age. The wonder, the sweet agony of newly discovered joys. The pain of loss. When her world had ended, her heart had kept pumping. The sun had continued its unsung rhythm.
“I doubt the servants share your sentiment.” St. Raven’s eyes glinted in the setting sun, looking somehow more dangerous, an emerald mirror to the grassy floor around them.
“She adores you,” Henrietta said quietly. She watched as Louise climbed gingerly into the carriage, her fingers cradling the pupa. “If you leave, she may revert to her old antics.”
“I hired you because you relate to Louise. You understand her. I’m no longer needed.”
“That is what you would like to think, because it is easier to dismiss her than to love her.”
His face turned to stone, his eyes reflecting jewel-toned hardness. “You speak too familiarly, Miss Gordon.”
“Do you expect less from me?” She met his jagged gaze with a firm and steady look. “You have avoided your tenants and their needs. These people are depending on you for their livelihood. The cottages are in need of repair. The fields lay barren. Is this what your brother would have wanted? Is this why he left you in charge?”
“Challenging words for a mere governess.” A tic tugged at his jaw. She only saw it because somewhere in her lecture she had lost contact with his eyes, knowing she crossed a line yet unable to stop herself. It was one thing to be stern with a patient. Quite another to criticize your employer. But her principles would allow nothing less.
She forced herself to look at him again, ignoring the clench of her stomach, the tightness of her throat. “These people deserve a landowner who cares for them. At least hire a steward to handle the paperwork puddled across your desk. Someone to care for the people since you cannot bring yourself to do so.”
He shoved a hand ruthlessly through his hair, mussing it and grimacing at the pain. Or perhaps her words. She refused to play with the edges of her reticule, though her nerves screamed and her fingers itched to move, to wiggle, to crawl away. Someone must tell him these things. Someone must make him see how the estate was falling apart without his leadership.
She inhaled a shaky, uncertain breath. “I can’t leave here without being honest, my lord. I hope you understand.”
He groaned then, a surprising sound that struck her as both mournful and wounded. Aggrieved. A sober reaction for someone determined to play his way through life. “Though you are impertinent, your opinion has merit. I will meet with my solicitors and determine what is to be done.”
“It would be good for the tenants to meet you. To feel that their futures are secure. Mrs. Smith’s husband is working at a factory. I’m not well versed on English economics—”
“Crops are failing throughout England. Add in the bad harvests and farmers are struggling,” he said crisply. “I will do what I can, but the world is changing and we must change with it. Perhaps you’re correct about the tenants, though. After my brother died, I didn’t visit the estate for several months. And when I did, it was short. Mostly to see Louise.”
“Then you are past due.”
“I’m sick, as you know. It seems...” His fingers jogged again through his hair as though searching for words. “Perhaps a waste of time to invest myself when there is no guarantee I will be here tomorrow.”
“Are you referring to your illness? I do not believe it to be a terminal disease, though I’ve yet to perform the research.” He looked so stricken, and she felt helpless to wipe that despair from his face.
“Yes, this cursed disease that has plagued me. Who would have guessed a bump on the head had the power to forever alter the course of my life.”
“When did you first exhibit symptoms?”
“The day after my brother and his wife died. I was riding with them.”
“Oh, I did not realize.” She swallowed, understanding the pain of losing those you held dear in one fell swoop.
“I am hoping to find a cure.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
She dipped her head. “Fair words. However, you cannot neglect your duties simply because you don’t know what the future brings. I will watch you closely, my lord, and guard your secret. Never forget, He holds us in the palms of His hands.”
“Who?”
“God. Be anxious for nothing, but in everything let your cares fall upon Him, for He careth for you.”
Dominic’s brow rose in a mocking manner that Henrietta found rather annoying. She put a hand on her hip. “I’m simply giving you good advice. The future is unknown. If we visit the tenants today, then tomorrow, if you have not suddenly died, you can go about hiring a steward.”
“Sarcasm. Very ungoverness-like.” He regarded her with narrowed eyes. “You were quoting the Bible.”
“Yes,” she answered defensively. “I enjoy reading it.”
“As I have never turned a page of it in my life, I will trust you when you say reading it is enjoyable. Louise is waiting and the day is waning. After consideration, I have determined that it is far better to face the
