Read Online The Secret Desires of a Governess by Tiffany Clare - Free Book Online
Authors: Tiffany Clare
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Martha had something to do with that. The woman didn’t believe in her ability as a teacher. Had made a point in saying she was too young on the first day they’d met.
Had further questioned her abilities whenever they’d chanced to meet. The dislike most likely stemmed from not successfully having one day of studies with Jacob. It wasn’t precisely her fault she couldn’t find the child.
How did a child of eight go about his day alone? How was it that the staff allowed such a thing? Or that Lord Brendall permitted his son to be left to his own devices morning, noon, and night? It wasn’t right. It stirred up empathy in her breast, and a desire to help the child in any way she could. She just didn’t know what she should do.
Lord Brendall was no help. She’d not seen him since her and Thomas had taken the cart back from town. He kept to himself as far as she could tell. She was a bit thankful for that.
Finishing a bowl of warm oats and tea for an early breakfast, she left the women to their meal preparations to search for Jacob. She was determined to find him today and would leave no stone unturned in doing so. Wrapping her shawl around her shoulders, she headed for the stables hoping to have a smidgen of luck on her side.
All six stalls for the horses were occupied— including Ivan’s— which meant Lord Brendall was in residence. Not that she cared. She was simply taking notice that he often didn’t leave the castle.
She turned where she stood, studying the inside of the stable area. There were two doors. One was painted a deep red and led back outside, the other a ruddily worn wood door that probably housed the stable hand.
She walked over to the adjacent room and opened the door. Empty, aside from a cot and small table. It was dusty enough to attest to the fact that no one had slept here for some time. She shut the door and pressed her back to the hard surface. This old castle had too many hiding spots to name.
If she were eight, where would she hide?
There was a ladder that led up to a hayloft. She’d have to check there before she searched the abandoned half of the stable. Setting her shawl over the door of Ivan’s stall, she rubbed at his muzzle before making her way to the ladder and climbing the steep steps. It was quite high up.
There was plenty of hay stacked up here, but no dark-haired child.
“Jacob?” she called.
Not that she expected an answer. All she hoped was that her search
wouldn’t take her the majority of the day. Would the little rascal hide in among the stacks of hay?
She climbed up off the ladder and hunched over so she didn’t hit her head on the low- hanging beams of the ceiling.
“Jacob,” she called again.
There was a small square window set into the east wall.
The wood planks beneath it were cleared of hay, and a few marbles littered inside one of the larger knotholes. Evidence that the boy did spend time hidden away up here.
With that knowledge, Abby reluctantly made her way back down the ladder.
If she didn’t find him today, she might sit up there for the full day tomorrow. It was better than sitting in the library where she’d set up her teaching things, or in silence with the kitchen staff.
She looked over her shoulder to assess how much farther she needed to climb down and met the stoic gaze of Lord Brendall.
She lost her footing. Foolish of her to be distracted by the man. He habitually showed up without warning.
To say he caught her before she could land on the ground was and wasn’t quite the truth. It was much more than simply stopping her fall. Her chin hit one of the ladder rungs, leaving a sharp sting and a light ringing in her ears; her knee smacked against another step lower down, and her skirts rode up high enough to reveal her drawers.
She knew this last fact because she felt Lord Brendall’s warmth seep right through the frivolous, impractical silk.
“I’m sorry.” It was the best she could come up with by way of apology. Her arms
Had further questioned her abilities whenever they’d chanced to meet. The dislike most likely stemmed from not successfully having one day of studies with Jacob. It wasn’t precisely her fault she couldn’t find the child.
How did a child of eight go about his day alone? How was it that the staff allowed such a thing? Or that Lord Brendall permitted his son to be left to his own devices morning, noon, and night? It wasn’t right. It stirred up empathy in her breast, and a desire to help the child in any way she could. She just didn’t know what she should do.
Lord Brendall was no help. She’d not seen him since her and Thomas had taken the cart back from town. He kept to himself as far as she could tell. She was a bit thankful for that.
Finishing a bowl of warm oats and tea for an early breakfast, she left the women to their meal preparations to search for Jacob. She was determined to find him today and would leave no stone unturned in doing so. Wrapping her shawl around her shoulders, she headed for the stables hoping to have a smidgen of luck on her side.
All six stalls for the horses were occupied— including Ivan’s— which meant Lord Brendall was in residence. Not that she cared. She was simply taking notice that he often didn’t leave the castle.
She turned where she stood, studying the inside of the stable area. There were two doors. One was painted a deep red and led back outside, the other a ruddily worn wood door that probably housed the stable hand.
She walked over to the adjacent room and opened the door. Empty, aside from a cot and small table. It was dusty enough to attest to the fact that no one had slept here for some time. She shut the door and pressed her back to the hard surface. This old castle had too many hiding spots to name.
If she were eight, where would she hide?
There was a ladder that led up to a hayloft. She’d have to check there before she searched the abandoned half of the stable. Setting her shawl over the door of Ivan’s stall, she rubbed at his muzzle before making her way to the ladder and climbing the steep steps. It was quite high up.
There was plenty of hay stacked up here, but no dark-haired child.
“Jacob?” she called.
Not that she expected an answer. All she hoped was that her search
wouldn’t take her the majority of the day. Would the little rascal hide in among the stacks of hay?
She climbed up off the ladder and hunched over so she didn’t hit her head on the low- hanging beams of the ceiling.
“Jacob,” she called again.
There was a small square window set into the east wall.
The wood planks beneath it were cleared of hay, and a few marbles littered inside one of the larger knotholes. Evidence that the boy did spend time hidden away up here.
With that knowledge, Abby reluctantly made her way back down the ladder.
If she didn’t find him today, she might sit up there for the full day tomorrow. It was better than sitting in the library where she’d set up her teaching things, or in silence with the kitchen staff.
She looked over her shoulder to assess how much farther she needed to climb down and met the stoic gaze of Lord Brendall.
She lost her footing. Foolish of her to be distracted by the man. He habitually showed up without warning.
To say he caught her before she could land on the ground was and wasn’t quite the truth. It was much more than simply stopping her fall. Her chin hit one of the ladder rungs, leaving a sharp sting and a light ringing in her ears; her knee smacked against another step lower down, and her skirts rode up high enough to reveal her drawers.
She knew this last fact because she felt Lord Brendall’s warmth seep right through the frivolous, impractical silk.
“I’m sorry.” It was the best she could come up with by way of apology. Her arms
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