tiny bob of his head was her only answer. Both Lady Milford and Lord Simon had mentioned the duke’s shy nature. Who could blame him for being timid when he’d lost his parents and had been left to the care of servants? When his own uncle viewed him as a burden?
Annabelle curtsied. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace. I am Miss Annabelle Quinn, lately of Yorkshire.”
He made a credible half bow from the waist. Someone had taught him manners. Regarding her with wary green eyes, he whispered, “Are you … are you truly my governess?”
“Indeed I am. And may I add, I’ve traveled quite a long distance to meet you. I do hope you can forgive me for being too impatient to wait until morning.”
He nodded slowly. Just then, she noticed that he was clutching something in his hand.
Curious, she took a few steps closer, careful not to alarm him. She spied a small army of toy soldiers arranged on the rug before the fire. The sight touched her heart. Was this the only time he had to play? In secret, after he’d been put to bed?
It would seem so. It also seemed likely the canny little rascal had arranged the pillows in his bed so that it would appear as though he were asleep to anyone who came to check on him.
Annabelle knelt down, as much to examine the battlefield as to place herself on his level. The array of figurines were a sight to behold. He had made two armies facing each other, one of soldiers and the other of cavalry. The uniforms appeared somewhat old-fashioned, and the paint was chipped on a few as if they’d enjoyed frequent use.
“What a fearsome battle. May I take a look at one?”
Nicholas lifted his small shoulders in a shrug.
Annabelle decided to take that as an assent. Careful not to disturb the formation, she picked up a red-coated soldier holding a musket. Although the piece fit perfectly into the palm of her hand, it was surprisingly heavy. She glanced up to see that Nicholas held a miniature cavalryman on horseback. Keeping a furtive eye on her, he ran his fingertip over the figurine as if it were precious to him.
“Is that one special?” she asked.
Another shrug. His reluctance to speak could not be more clear.
Poor lad, she couldn’t blame him for being wary. No one had warned him that a new governess was to arrive. He had no way of knowing if she’d tattle on him or snatch his toys away.
Annabelle ached for him to realize that he was safe with her. Perhaps the toy soldiers gave her a chance to do so.
“Have you had these for a long time?” she asked gently.
He hung his head, rather guiltily, she thought.
“I shan’t scold you for being out of bed, at least not this once.” She placed her hand over her heart. “On my honor, I do solemnly swear that anything you confess to me will not go beyond these four walls.”
Nicholas stared down at his small bare toes. After a moment he glanced up and whispered, “I found them.”
“Found them where?”
He pointed toward a chest in the corner. “In there.”
“Then they are yours.”
His chin tilted down, he shook his head. “They belonged to Papa … and Uncle Simon. I’m not to touch them without permission.”
Annabelle couldn’t imagine why Nicholas should be denied the use of his father’s old toys. Everything in the castle belonged to him by birthright. Except, of course, that as the boy’s guardian, Lord Simon held the reins of power. “Then we must obtain your uncle’s consent.”
His face going pale, Nicholas lifted his chin to gaze beseechingly at her. “Please don’t tell … he’ll be angry.”
Annabelle’s heart squeezed painfully. How appalling that he should be terrified to ask his uncle a simple question. The man must have treated Nicholas harshly to have inspired such fear in him.
A hearty dislike for Lord Simon solidified in her. Family members should love each other, especially when one was a lonely orphaned boy in desperate need of affection.
A sound out in the
Annabelle curtsied. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace. I am Miss Annabelle Quinn, lately of Yorkshire.”
He made a credible half bow from the waist. Someone had taught him manners. Regarding her with wary green eyes, he whispered, “Are you … are you truly my governess?”
“Indeed I am. And may I add, I’ve traveled quite a long distance to meet you. I do hope you can forgive me for being too impatient to wait until morning.”
He nodded slowly. Just then, she noticed that he was clutching something in his hand.
Curious, she took a few steps closer, careful not to alarm him. She spied a small army of toy soldiers arranged on the rug before the fire. The sight touched her heart. Was this the only time he had to play? In secret, after he’d been put to bed?
It would seem so. It also seemed likely the canny little rascal had arranged the pillows in his bed so that it would appear as though he were asleep to anyone who came to check on him.
Annabelle knelt down, as much to examine the battlefield as to place herself on his level. The array of figurines were a sight to behold. He had made two armies facing each other, one of soldiers and the other of cavalry. The uniforms appeared somewhat old-fashioned, and the paint was chipped on a few as if they’d enjoyed frequent use.
“What a fearsome battle. May I take a look at one?”
Nicholas lifted his small shoulders in a shrug.
Annabelle decided to take that as an assent. Careful not to disturb the formation, she picked up a red-coated soldier holding a musket. Although the piece fit perfectly into the palm of her hand, it was surprisingly heavy. She glanced up to see that Nicholas held a miniature cavalryman on horseback. Keeping a furtive eye on her, he ran his fingertip over the figurine as if it were precious to him.
“Is that one special?” she asked.
Another shrug. His reluctance to speak could not be more clear.
Poor lad, she couldn’t blame him for being wary. No one had warned him that a new governess was to arrive. He had no way of knowing if she’d tattle on him or snatch his toys away.
Annabelle ached for him to realize that he was safe with her. Perhaps the toy soldiers gave her a chance to do so.
“Have you had these for a long time?” she asked gently.
He hung his head, rather guiltily, she thought.
“I shan’t scold you for being out of bed, at least not this once.” She placed her hand over her heart. “On my honor, I do solemnly swear that anything you confess to me will not go beyond these four walls.”
Nicholas stared down at his small bare toes. After a moment he glanced up and whispered, “I found them.”
“Found them where?”
He pointed toward a chest in the corner. “In there.”
“Then they are yours.”
His chin tilted down, he shook his head. “They belonged to Papa … and Uncle Simon. I’m not to touch them without permission.”
Annabelle couldn’t imagine why Nicholas should be denied the use of his father’s old toys. Everything in the castle belonged to him by birthright. Except, of course, that as the boy’s guardian, Lord Simon held the reins of power. “Then we must obtain your uncle’s consent.”
His face going pale, Nicholas lifted his chin to gaze beseechingly at her. “Please don’t tell … he’ll be angry.”
Annabelle’s heart squeezed painfully. How appalling that he should be terrified to ask his uncle a simple question. The man must have treated Nicholas harshly to have inspired such fear in him.
A hearty dislike for Lord Simon solidified in her. Family members should love each other, especially when one was a lonely orphaned boy in desperate need of affection.
A sound out in the
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