But this was not an excursion to ogle the master of the house. “Frances, did you want to tell your papa something?”
“Yes,” the girl said quietly.
Lord Emory sat again, seeming to sense that standing made him more intimidating. “What is it, Frances? Come here and tell me.”
The little girl looked at Genevieve and then padded over to her father. “I want to say thank you for the handkerchiefs.”
He smiled, and Frances smiled back. Genevieve felt her own mouth curve up as well. He had a very charming smile. “I’m so glad you like them. Someone”—he looked at Genevieve, who felt her cheeks grow warm—“mentioned you might like something with your mother’s scent to remember her by.”
“I did remember her,” Frances said. “I remembered the time I hurt my finger, and she gave me a very long hug until my tears dried up.”
“Really?”
“Yes, and the baby in her belly kicked me. That made us both laugh. Mama and me.”
Genevieve saw the pain that flashed in Lord Emory’s eyes, but he continued to smile. “I’m so glad you were able to remember that.”
“I have to remember her, so I know what she looks like and recognize her.”
Lord Emory said, “Of course.”
Genevieve’s smile faltered, though. Her father might not understand what Frances meant when she said she needed to recognize her mama, but Genevieve did. It meant she was still imagining that her mother would come back.
“Frances,” Lord Emory said, “how would you and Miss Brooking like to dine with me tonight?”
Frances looked at Genevieve, who looked at Lord Emory. As a governess, it was not uncommon for her to eat with the family,especially if the children were old enough to join their parents on occasion. But Frances was on the younger side, and Lord Emory and his friend Mr. Notley were unlikely to be suitable dinner companions for a governess and a young child.
“My lord—” Genevieve began.
“Mr. Notley has gone,” he said. “He left early this morning for London. I’ll be eating all alone at this big table if you don’t join me.” He raised his brows at Frances, who turned to Genevieve.
“Miss Genevieve, we can’t leave him alone at the big table.”
“I agree, Miss Lumlee. We must join your papa for dinner.” She gave a curtsey in thanks not only for the invitation to dinner but for sending Mr. Notley away. She truly hadn’t expected Lord Emory to listen to anything she had to say this early in her employment. She was used to some resistance from a new family when she first made recommendations. Usually, after six months they deferred to her in everything. Lord Emory had seemed more resistant than most, and yet he’d done everything—almost everything—she asked of him. Perhaps now might be a good time to make another request. She might be taking it a step too far, but what was the old saying,strike while the iron is hot?
“Frances, why don’t you go outside and see if you can find Admiral? I will join you in a moment.”
“Yes!” The girl turned to go then remembered herself, gave her father a quick curtsey, and ran out of the room.
Lord Emory bowed to Genevieve, an amused smile on his lips. “I must admit, you have done wonders with the child. Several days ago, she was kicking me and refusing to bathe. Now she is clean and exhibiting what look to be decent manners.”
“She’s a very sweet child,” she said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her.
Lord Emory raised a brow. “Why do I have a feeling there is abutcoming?”
“There is nobut. There is awho.”
“I don’t follow.”
“She is a sweet childwhoneeds her father.”
“I’m right here.”
She couldn’t argue with his statement. He was providing food, shelter, care, and an education for his child. Nothing more was expected of a gentleman in his position. Nothing more was expected of any man.
But Frances needed more.
“You have been extremely thoughtful, my lord. The handkerchiefs were a wonderful gift that I know Frances will cherish. There is one thing I did want to address with you.”
