Rory finally dragged his gaze to his daughter, whose brow was furrowed in concern. “Miss Brooking and I want to have your eyes examined. We believe you may need spectacles.”
Miss Brooking’s head snapped up, and she stared at him, her mouth agape. He raised a brow, and she closed her mouth and looked back down.
“Spectacles?” Frances said. “Only elderly people wear spectacles.”
“Rubbish,” Rory said. “I knew a boy at school who wore spectacles.”
Frances cocked her head. “What was his name?”
Rory opened his mouth to answer but realized he only remembered the boy’s sobriquet. They’d all called him Specsie. He couldn’t tell Frances that. “John,” he said a little belatedly. “His name was John.”
Frances looked at Miss Brooking. “I don’t want spectacles.”
“Be brave, Frances. This examination will not hurt at all, will it, Doctor Acton?”
“No, no. Not at all.” The doctor straightened. “Might I have another lamp in here?”
Gables brought another, and Miss Brooking convinced Frances to sit in a chair. The governess held her hand while the doctor looked at her eyes and had her read letters on paper from various distances. When he asked her to cover one eye, she released Miss Brooking’s hand.
The governess watched her charge for a moment, then, seeing she was more relaxed, moved away and came to stand beside Rory at the window. He knew better than to assume this was by accident.
He looked at her, but she kept her gaze on Frances.
“I feel I should apologize for my behavior, my lord,” she whispered. “I assure you, I have never before done something like that with an employer. I honestly do not know what happened or who kissed whom.”
“You kissed me,” he said quietly.
She glanced at him, and he saw a flash of what looked like anger in her eyes. Then she turned back to face the room.
“I am mortified and do apologize again. I will understand if you want to terminate my employment immediately.”
The thought made his heart jump. “Not at all, Miss Brooking,” he said. “We can move past the, er, incident. In fact,I’ve forgotten it already.” Rory had always been a smooth liar, but even he was surprised at how convincing he sounded. Move past that kiss? He didn’t think he’d forget it for months.
She didn’t speak for the length of three heartbeats. Her back visibly stiffened, and then she nodded once. “So have I, my lord. On another topic, I owe you my thanks.”
Rory’s brows went up. “For?”
“Summoning the doctor. I know you didn’t want Frances examined for spectacles. Thank you for listening to my suggestion. Again.”
“You’re welcome, Miss Brooking,” he said.
The doctor had opened his bag now and withdrew several pairs of small spectacles. He tried a pair on Frances and had her read one of his charts of letters and numbers. Then he gave her another pair and had her try again. She tried on three options and then went back to the second, a pretty gold-rimmed pair. Miss Brooking moved forward. “What do you think, Frances? Can you see better with those?”
Frances looked up at her, large brown eyes even larger behind the spectacles. “You have freckles, Miss Genevieve.”
“I do, yes. We both do.”
“But I never saw them unless I was very close to you.” She pointed to the window behind Rory. “I can see the trees outside the window. It’s a little blurry.”
“It is raining outside,” he said.
She nodded. “I never saw the trees before. Everything looked like a fuzzy puddle.” She rose. “May I go look at the rest of the house?” she asked.
“Go ahead,” Miss Brooking said. “I’ll join you shortly.”
Frances scampered away, pausing every few moments to stop and look at something in the room before she finally made it to the foyer. Rory heard her exclaim and glanced at Miss Brooking, who was smiling.
The doctor turned to Rory and nodded. “Children Miss Lumlee’s age often break or lose their spectacles. Shall I order her a second pair with the same magnification?”
