“We shall check your sums first.”
“And the new item? What is it? A puppy perhaps?”
Dominic made a sound in the back of his throat. “A what?”
“There is the most adorable mongrel in the park and it follows me about every day. I bring him ham, of course.”
“No, most definitely not an animal,” said Dominic, his voice panicked. He shot Henrietta a pleading look, but she only shrugged.
A puppy was not a bad idea. “The idea has merit, my lord.”
Louise jumped and clapped her hands. “I can’t wait. I love new things.”
“Well, that is not what your uncle and I were discussing. When you get a new governess you will need—”
“What?” She stopped jumping. The book dropped from her hands to the ground.
“Yes, I cannot stay forever.”
“But...” Her gaze whipped between them. “Governesses do stay. They stay until they’re no longer needed. I have been good.” There was emotion building on her face, the same kind Henrietta had seen before, right before Louise ran away.
A hard lump settled in her throat. “You must have known this was temporary?”
Dominic was suspiciously quiet. She didn’t dare look at him. If she took her gaze from Louise’s bright, shocked eyes, she felt certain the tenuous, invisible thread between them would snap.
It was a fanciful notion that could not be upheld by scientific theory, nor by logic, but nevertheless, her heart pumped hard and desperate beats against her sternum. She did not want to disappoint Louise.
She did not want to hurt her.
Yet the vellum letter remained clutched in her hand, its sharp corner digging into her palm, a painful reminder that her life could not remain as it was now.
“Louise...” Dominic’s voice trailed off.
Startled at the sudden intrusion of his voice in the voided silence, she looked at him. And then Louise ran. Her footsteps echoed as she raced out of the study and into the hall, then the front door slammed.
Pulse racing like a jackrabbit in her throat, Henrietta sprung forward. Louise could not roam London alone. Too many pickpockets, thieves, murderers. It wasn’t safe.
This was her fault.
And only she could fix it.
Chapter Nineteen
Dominic hurried after Henrietta. She was already out of the house.
“Jacks,” he yelled, swiping his cane from the corner of the room, where he kept it for London walks. Obsidian-black, it looked the epitome of a gentleman’s accessory, but the polished handle hid a sharp point. He’d bought it in Turkey, after a band of ruffians had nearly killed him and his friends during his Grand Tour. He set his top hat upon his head.
“I’m going out,” he told the valet. “If Louise or Miss Gordon return, see that they do not leave this house until I come back.”
He stepped out into blinding sunlight. Walking to find them would be best. Right or left? Where would Louise go? Hyde Park? Gunter’s?
He’d try Gunter’s first, since she’d mentioned wanting ices. Barbara may have given her pin money that she hadn’t spent yet. He strode quickly, passing others out for leisure walks. He ignored most of their looks to avoid conversation.
By the time he reached Gunter’s, he was in need of an ice himself. The day was hot, bothersome. He had almost rounded the lawn where customers brought out blankets to sit in the sunshine while enjoying their treats, when a high trill stopped him.
“Oh, my lord, my lord, so very good to see you.” A woman he did not recognize fluttered in front of him. The type he used to ignore quite easily. In fact, every instinct demanded he run. And fast.
A better man did not run from irksome women. He nodded, returned the greeting.
“Have you met Miss Penelope? My second daughter, just out for the Season.” The woman batted strangely long eyelashes at him while pushing a wisp of a girl in front of her. He wracked his brain, searching for some memory of the mother’s name. Any idea to which family they belonged.
Most likely friends of Barbara’s. Since the girl was not speaking and it seemed the mother was waiting for him to say something, he inclined his head. “Lovely day for ices.”
“Yes, yes,” the mother gushed. Miss Penelope, bride-to-be no thanks to her mother, said nothing. She had pale blue eyes. Striking on their own, but bland with no personality present.
He thought of Henrietta’s chocolate eyes then, while the ice began melting and the mother melted and the daughter remained speechless.
Henrietta would not endure a conversation about weather. She would be bored. She would be moving or looking or thinking.
These two obviously expected something he had no intention offering. His card, perhaps. A promise to call. A marriage proposal.
He drew out his watch fob. “Ah, look at the time. I must be off. Farewell, ladies.” He pivoted and walked straight out of the park. Thankfully no one else tried to stop him. The entire walk home he brooded. He had not felt so on edge since he was a young man.
No matter how much Henrietta made him laugh, he also blamed her for her demands, expecting more than he felt capable of giving. And yet he had risen to the challenge.
But for what? She planned to leave. Not just him. But also Louise. He had not thought of how her abandonment would affect his niece. On the walk home, it was all he thought of. Well, almost all. He also thought much of his own self. He had come to rely on Henrietta’s wit, sharp comments and truthfulness.
Where was Louise? A terrible, sharp-edged worry cut into his senses, propelling his legs forward. He had to ask Henrietta to stay.
For Louise’s sake.
The idea relieved the tension snaking across his chest. Barbara would eventually leave him alone about the school, if Louise had Henrietta. And if Old John decided to open his mouth about Dominic’s epilepsy, Henrietta had said it wouldn’t matter.
If she stayed, she could practice
