Page 30

Miss Dowding blinked back her surprise. “Excuse me?”

“And you have done a fine job. I should never have doubted you.”

“I…” She could not have looked more shocked. “Ah… thank you?”

“Perhaps this time, I should be thanking you.” He smiled quickly for her, an appreciative nod of the head, and then he went back to watching Isabella play.

“That is…” She hesitated as she studied Frederick, as if she was seeing him for the first time. “That is quite all right, Your Grace. And thank you for saying.”

She turned back to finish watching Isabella, the smugness gone, the satisfaction faded. Rather, it was pride that he saw in her eyes.

“I did it!” Isabella cried with glee when she finished. “Did you see! Did you see!”

“Very well done,” Frederick said, clapping along.

“Good show!” George agreed. “We have a generational talent on our hands!”

“Isabella, I am so proud of you,” Frederick continued. He went to walk around the pianoforte and hug his daughter, only for Isabella to leap up and run for Miss Dowding instead.

She threw her arms around Miss Dowding and pulled her into a tight hug, and Miss Dowding returned it, laughing along as she did. “I told you that you could do it. Didn’t I? I am so proud of you.”

Frederick might have been envious of the sight. If it had been Miss Wanton or one of the other governesses, he certainly would have been. But watching Miss Dowding hug his daughter, and his daughter relishing it, it was not envy that he felt. Not even close.

“She is something, isn’t she?” George whispered in his ear.

“Yes, she really is…”

“I was not speaking of your daughter…” He winked and nudged Frederick in the side. “But neither were you, I think.”

To that, Frederick had no answer. Only this time, he didn’t feel the same sense of shame or denial as he might have before. Confused, certainly. Unsure, most definitely. But it was beginning to look as if there was more to Miss Dowding than he had originally thought. Much, much more.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Oh, this one,” Esther said as she pulled a roll of fabric from the wall. The color was dark green, almost emerald, with lighter green stitching woven through it in a floral pattern and golden hems. “This coloring will go with your hair. I have always said that you look good in green.”

“And I told you, there is no need for me to have a new dress made. I have plenty already,” Caroline sighed… even if she could not help but eye the fabric in a way that made it clear how much she agreed.

“Nonsense, dear,” Esther dismissed. “If you remember, when you turned up on my doorstep, you had naught but the clothes on your back. And even those I would not dress a pig in.”

“Why on earth would you put a dress on a pig?”

Esther shrugged. “For a laugh, I suppose.”

“Please tell me, Esther, that this is not something that you have done before.”

“Of course not!” Esther said, only to smile sheepishly. “Well, maybe just one time. I thought it might look cute!”

“And?”

“Decidedly not cute. And it was not the dress that you wore, either. That, I threw in the trash the moment I got it off you.”

“Good to know,” Caroline chuckled.

“The point is,” Esther continued, still holding the green length of fabric out for her to see, “you do not have plenty of dresses. In my estimation, you have far too few. Less now that we lost half of them in the fire.”

Caroline clicked her tongue. “Then I shall pay for?—”

“Nonsense!” she cried out. “And do not insult me by suggesting it.” She widened her eyes in warning at Caroline.