They needed to have confidence in him the same way a patient should trust his or her physician.
“You are very right.” Cheeks on fire, she looked down at her hands, which were still clasped and beginning to cramp. She released them, stretching her fingers before looking up at him. She expected to see triumph. Instead, he looked tired. Handsome, but weary. “It was not my place to confront your apothecary. Nor to make a spectacle in the village. I should have come to you with my concerns, and I am very sorry for rushing off like a hotheaded fool.”
Perhaps this was how it felt to be humbled. A curious mix of pain and relief, much like the sensation in lancing a boil. Perhaps one could get used to being wrong. Or at least admitting to it.
As though hearing her thoughts, Dominic edged closer to his desk, quirking a smile in her direction. “Was that so hard?”
“Yes,” she said in a tone that was almost petulant, but not quite. Because she had never been petulant in her life, and she was not about to start now.
“Your honesty is refreshing.” He rose from his desk, walking over to a small table on the other side of the room, where a pile of papers was stacked. “Admittedly, your actions were inappropriate to the situation, yet I cannot help but admire your resolve and bravery.”
“Bravery?” Unexpected words, and reassuring. “I do not presume to know what you mean.”
“That’s a first.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Haven’t you already? One beg per week is quite enough, Miss Gordon.”
He was flirting with her now, resorting to his previous persona. He took a folded paper from the stack. Vellum, she saw as he neared, sealed with an expensive wax seal. “You don’t care what others think. Your sense of justice is impressive. That is very brave of you.” He held out the paper. “This came for you.”
She took it, recognizing at once her uncle’s initials in the scarlet seal. The stiff vellum beneath the pads of her fingers reminded her of his life. Strong. Rich. Unique.
That was the life she wanted, wasn’t it?
But it was hard to think clearly with Dominic standing so close, shaping her thoughts with his opinions, as atrocious as she sometimes found them to be. He wore that expensive cologne, too. A scent she should chide him for due to its obvious cost. The luxury he took for granted. She could not bring herself to criticize him, though, not after last night.
“I saw you,” she blurted out.
“Saw me?” A tiny crinkled appeared in his brow, a ripple in his laughing exterior.
“Yes.” She pressed the vellum to her bosom. Reading it could wait. “You gave money to that man’s family.”
His brow lifted. The crinkle deepened. “And?”
“I thought I had you figured out, but you keep surprising me.”
“My goal in life, madam.” He swept her a large, entirely ridiculous bow reminiscent of Mr. Hodges.
Despite herself, she smiled. “Very well. I have apologized and we have reached an impasse, if you will?”
“I shall let you decide which words to use, as you are the governess.” His gaze cut to the letter in her hands. “Only two months,” he murmured. “How much longer do you suppose before I’ll need to put word out for a new one?”
“A new what?” Louise bopped into the room, a heavy book in one hand and a tart in the other. “I finished my math. Whatever is the purpose? You know that I shall not be doing sums. I will have a steward for that. Or a housekeeper. Or someone who enjoys trying to fit numbers together like a puzzle. A mismatched puzzle.”
“Every lady of breeding must know basic sums. If you plan to run your own household—”
“But what if I don’t?”
Henrietta looked at Dominic, trying to ascertain if he intended her to answer the girl. She would be the worst example, she supposed. She didn’t run households or manage daily tasks. She had no desire to do such a thing.
“You don’t want to get married?” she asked carefully.
“Of course I’m getting married. It will be terribly romantic.” Unexpectedly, she began spinning around the two of them in a silly, young-girl way that brought memories to the forefront. Once upon a time, Henrietta had dreamed of having a love like the one her parents had shared.
“But I shan’t be keeping his house,” continued Louise. “We will be having adventures, discovering new species. Drinking tea in exotic places like those that exist in Arabian Nights.”
Henrietta held up her hands in mock surrender. “I did not put these ideas into her head, my lord.”
“We shall blame fiction.” Dominic was laughing, though. “Just do not let your Aunt Barbara hear you speak thus. It will send her into a fit of apoplexy. I believe she already has a standing order for your first Season, and a list of prospective grooms.”
“Psssh.” Louise’s eyes were alight. “It will be our secret. Just between Dom and Retta and Lou.”
Henrietta groaned at the nicknames. “It is time for another lesson. This conversation is senseless.”
“I find it rather entertaining, and there is sense in that.” Dominic sat on the edge of his desk. Very un-earl-like.
“It is not useful.”
“Surely there is a part of the brain that requires entertainment for growth and stimulation? We are not designed to be automatons.”
“Oh, very well.” She didn’t have time to argue with him, and he made a good point. It was just so very hard to indulge in senseless entertainment when she could see no practical value to it. “According to some fringe scientists, laughter is a medicine in and of itself.”
“The Bible says that, does it not?”
Henrietta nodded, then said to Louise, “We must finish your lessons before our tea.”
“But what are we getting that’s new?” She plunked
