“Calmed down?” Louise crossed her arms, twisting her lips into a mulish scowl. He reached for her, but she pivoted out of reach. “You can’t go, Dom. Please.” And then her lip quivered, and it felt as though that quiver was an arrow to his heart. Pain lanced his chest.
“I have to. I have to go.”
Louise shook her head, hard, shaking his words from her ears. Then she ran, disappearing down the path. He groaned.
Henrietta expelled an exasperated sigh. “We really must teach her better coping skills.”
* * *
Louise returned after dinner had been taken away. Henrietta had been waiting, her heart beating a nervous pitter-patter for every hour the girl didn’t show up. St. Raven had gone to his study to go over the books with his new steward, who had shown up shortly after Louise threw her fit.
He had been visibly upset but after an hour of searching and not finding the girl, they’d decided to see if she returned home for dinner. A few servants had been posted at various spots on the estate, in hopes of spotting her.
Henrietta paced the parlor, awaiting word of her charge’s arrival. She’d brought a book, an anatomical study of the human body, but her eyes kept stuttering on the hippocampus drawing.
Was Louise hurt somewhere? Broken? She hadn’t been able to speak with Lord St. Raven about consequences for his niece’s behavior, but as she turned about the room, she formulated a plan. She had already informed the staff to send Louise directly to the parlor. No food, no stops.
A dusky sunset splayed through the curtains, bathing the room in an overripe peach glow. The faint sound of servants moving through the house reached her ears. Even St. Raven’s voice, low and muted, could be heard as a threadbare echo through the walls. Still, she strained to hear Louise’s excited footfalls, her chirping voice.
She hadn’t fooled herself into thinking Louise had changed, but she had hoped the girl was happier. She should have guessed Dominic hadn’t shared his plans with anyone. Why had she opened her mouth?
Sighing, she went and sat on the fancy settee in the corner. Brocaded and stiff, the cushion made sitting more uncomfortable than standing. She stood up again. Better to address the behavior now. To teach that running away only caused more problems and that when Louise was upset, she must stand and face her fears.
Face the opposition.
Setting her jaw, she waited. Then there were footsteps down the hall. Strong and firm, but light. Henrietta rushed to the door and found Cook, her fingers hooked around the collar of Louise’s clothes.
“Tried to sneak some tarts from the kitchen,” said Cook.
Henrietta had not actually spoken to the cook in her time here, and now she understood why. The woman exuded disdain. With a contemptuous sniff, the servant released Louise and pounded away.
Though her head felt light with relief, she kept her face placid. “Go sit down, please.”
Louise stalked past. Her hair hung in disarray and though the lighting in the room was dim, Henrietta was quite sure there might be a sunburn on her nose. Which would result in freckles. Unseemly for a girl whose debut was in only five years. Lemon juice might lighten the marks, perhaps, though Henrietta doubted its efficacy.
“I’m hungry.” Louise plopped onto the sofa, seemingly unaware of its cold comfort.
“Stay here until I return.” Henrietta used the tone she’d employed on wounded soldiers. Like them, Louise looked up at her wide-eyed and obeyed.
Swirling around, Henrietta quickly went to Dominic’s study and knocked.
“Yes?”
She pushed the door open. The new steward looked up from his seat across Dominic’s desk. He seemed to be a studious type, spectacles perched on the brim of a well-structured nose. His tweed coat lent his slight build a conservative intelligence that she could appreciate.
“My lord,” she said, gaze skittering to the enigmatic man sitting behind the desk. “I apologize for interrupting, but might I have a word with you?”
If he was surprised by her boldness, he did not show it. A curt nod, and he was walking toward her, tall and confident, that dimple present in his cheek, though she could not fathom why. She certainly had not been able to smile the entire afternoon.
She went into the hall and he followed. Disarmed by his nearness, she nevertheless held her ground. “Louise has returned.”
He expelled a deep and hearty breath that was filled with relief. “Where is she?”
“I told her to stay in the study.”
“We will go to her now.”
She nodded, respect and a warmth welling within her at his obvious care for his niece.
Dominic kneaded the back of his neck. Stressed, no doubt, as being responsible often provoked the urge to commit to something or someone other than oneself. Still, her heart softened at his evident distress.
“I know you are but the governess—”
“I shall stand with you,” she said firmly.
He nodded. “Give me a moment.”
He was gone but two minutes, and then they walked to the drawing room. She could not help but be aware of his presence beside her. Strong and smelling of some exotic cologne that no doubt cost a month’s salary. But she could not fault him for the expenditure, when the result was so very pleasing.
They found Louise sitting exactly where Henrietta had left her. On the couch, scowling. Her eyes flickered up to them. “I’m starving.”
Henrietta drew in a deep breath, suddenly realizing that this would be so much more difficult than she had anticipated. She glanced up at Dominic and found strength in the fact that his jaw was firm, his mouth steady. Resolute.
“Louise, running away when you’re upset and not coming home until all hours is worrisome to us,” he said sternly.
Louise crossed her arms.
“I have spent the day—” Henrietta’s voice broke. Horrified, she wet her lips and swallowed hard, all her well-planned words sticking in her throat. “What I mean to say is
