Jacob scowled.

“Of course, if you would prefer I fetch your meals and light the fire, I am only too willing to oblige.”

“You’re not a maid.” Jacob narrowed his emerald eyes. The boy was right to be suspicious. “And you can’t be the new governess.”

“And you are far too astute for your age.” Rose noted his surprise upon hearing the c

ompliment. “I’m a lady in need of work as I’m alone and far from home.”

The explanation held some semblance of the truth.

“Where’s your family?” Alice’s sweet voice was devoid of hatred or malice.

“I don’t know.”

Her father could well be at Morton Manor. Her brother, Oliver, was in Italy, and yet Rose doubted it was far away enough to escape their father’s foul temper. A pang of sadness filled her chest whenever she thought of her brother. Once they had been inseparable, had stood together, just like Jacob and Alice, stood strong against the torrent of verbal abuse.

“Is that why you’re crying?” Alice said.

Rose dabbed her eyes with the pads of her fingers, surprised to find them damp. “My brother is a thousand miles away, but I would give anything to have him here standing next to me, taking care of me as your brother is eager to do.”

Oliver surely knew nothing of her incarceration at Morton Manor else he would have rushed home and fought the guards with his bare fists to free her.

Alice glanced at Jacob with a look of love and admiration.

“Now.” Rose inhaled to prevent the water filling her eyes from dripping down her cheeks. “I wish to make a pact with you.”

“A pact?” Jacob’s eyes widened despite an effort to maintain an impassive expression.

“Indeed.” Rose met Mrs Hibbet’s wary gaze but turned her attention back to the children. “If you’re left in my care, I shall suggest an activity to occupy our time.”

“What if we don’t like your idea?” Jacob replied.

“Then we will discuss the matter until we can agree.”

Mrs Hibbet stepped forward. “We must wait until the master decides who’s working up here before we make any plans.”

“Of course.” Rose was being presumptuous. But, having lost her mother at a young age too, she understood how grief manifested in other ways. Hostility and hatred were masks often used to hide pain. “Well, I’m sure I’ll get to spend at least an hour a day with you.”

“Mrs Booth had a strict routine,” Mrs Hibbet said. “His lordship won’t want the children to grow idle in her absence. Rules keep the mischievous mind out of trouble.”

“Did Lord Farleigh say that?”

“No. It was another governess, Mrs Marshall, though I’m not of the same mind.”

“All governesses say the same,” Jacob said. Clearly, the boy despised women who wore tight top knots and itchy grey dresses.

Rose put her hand to her chest and sighed. “Then thank goodness I’m not one of them. So, do you accept my proposal?”

Jacob turned to Alice and whispered in her ear. The girl nodded, and a giggle escaped as she struggled to contain her excitement.

“We accept,” Jacob said in a commanding voice worthy of the heir to a viscountcy.

“Excellent. Perhaps Mrs Hibbet can speak to your father so that I may attend to you for some part of the day.”

Both children turned to the housekeeper.

Mrs Hibbet shuffled uncomfortably on the spot. “We’ll see what he says. Now, Cook’s made shortbread biscuits and said you could both have one if you come straight away.”

Tags: Adele Clee Lost Ladies of London Romance
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