Even Watson had been put off by her, and he could not for the life of him think of how Amy had scared off such a frightening woman. Yet she had and, in a way, especially now, Watson was pleased. If she had not, he would have been stuck with Mrs Stretson and Miss Percival never would have walked into their lives.
“They say she has milky porcelain skin and such kind eyes that several of your maids are quite jealous of her,” Heath continued, drawing Watson from his memories of Mrs Stretson with great relief.
“I cannot imagine that people have spoken so much of her already!” Watson protested, shaking his head, quite unable to believe that word had spread quite so quickly. In fact, he had half been hoping that he might be able to keep Miss Percival to himself for a little while. He told himself that it was for Amy’s benefit, that he wished for them all to settle in together, but the truth was that it was perhaps something far more serious than that.
“Is it not true that her hair is so blonde it shines like spun gold in the morning sunshine?” Timothy asked.
Feeling his hackles rise, Watson responded with a harsher tone than he ought to have. “Timothy, are you attempting to take up poetry again? If so, I believe you ought to try and get a little more practise.”
Yet his response did not anger his friend. In fact, it did quite the opposite and the smile that spread across Timothy’s face unnerved Watson. The dark-haired man turned to the dark blonde teacher and asked, “What do you think, Heath? Is the Duke’s reaction quite appropriate for someone trying to hide a treasure?”
Heath seemed to muse over Timothy’s words for several moments, tapping his index finger upon his lips before he finally nodded. “I do believe it is, my dear friend, Timothy.”
“I rather think that perhaps we ought to go and see this treasure for ourselves, do not you, Heath?” Timothy continued and Watson opened his mouth to offer warning but before he could, the man added, “Besides, it has been quite long enough since I last saw my dear niece.”
That last sentence, Watson could not argue with. He had been so busy of late that he had not been around to invite either of them to spend time with his daughter. Yet he knew as well as they did, how much she loved their company. Lady Amy had always loved her uncle Timothy, related by blood, and her uncle Heath who she merely called so because he was her father’s closest friend and had known him all her life.
Watson had always thought that his daughter could not have asked for two better uncles but at this very moment, he could not help but feel threatened by them. Determined to keep calm, he sucked in a deep breath before warning them both.
“You both know that you are always welcome in my home, but I shall put my foot down right here and now. No matter how beautiful Miss Percival is, there shall be no funny business with my governess, do you hear me?”
“Oh! She isyourgoverness now, is she?” Heath chuckled glancing at Timothy as if hoping that the man had also gleaned the meaning in the conversation. It appeared that he had.
“Forgive me, Watson, but I thought that Miss Percival was Lady Amy’s governess,” Timothy commented, chuckling as if he almost could not keep a straight face to add, “Have you reverted to childhood? Is your situation quite so dire that you need a little extra tending, Your Grace? If we had known, I am sure that Heath and I would have happily saved you the trouble of looking for a carer.”
Watson gritted his teeth, determined not to rise to his friend’s jests. He was certain that if he did, he would only be setting himself up for further ridicule.
“Heed my warning, both of you. I will not tolerate any fraternizing with my staff.”
“Of course not!” Timothy exclaimed. “We would not want another incident now, would we?”
Watson cringed at that, remembering how when they had all been much younger, Timothy had fallen for one of Watson’s father’s serving girls. It had caused a great uproar and quite a large amount of chaos before Timothy had come to his senses and the girl had been sent on to work somewhere many miles away.
Watson’s stomach churned at the thought of having to do something similar with Miss Percival if anything were to go wrong.That cannot happen!he told himself, his blood turning to ice in his veins at the thought of losing the best governess his daughter had ever had.Besides, we are all grown men now. We all know better!
Yet, even as he thought it, he realised that he also could not stop thinking of Miss Percival and all that his friends had said about her. They were not wrong. She was indeed perhaps the most beautiful governess that he had ever laid eyes on, and she was by far the best that his daughter had ever had the opportunity to work with.
Her high recommendations from previous employers had definitely been right. She was kind and professional and hardworking, clever, and perhaps even a little ingenious when it came to figuring his daughter out.
“So, will you bring a few of the books?” Watson asked, trying to change the subject before he lost himself once more in thoughts of Miss Percival.
“Have I ever let you down before?” Heath asked, with a scowl and a shake of his head and Watson realised that he had to agree.
***
Upon returning home that afternoon after some further business in town, Watson found again that Mr Burns was looking extremely pleased. Though the Duke had been half-dreading returning home, half-expecting that things would be the polar opposite of the day before, he found that when he entered the manor, the air was calm.
Listening closely, he tried to pick up on the sounds of laughter he had heard the day before, but he could not hear any.
“Is all well, Burns?” he asked even as the butler helped him off with his outer jacket.
“All is very well, Your Grace,” the butler responded and even though he stood behind the Duke, Watson could hear the genuine smile in his tone. “If you wish to see Lady Amy before dinner, I will need some time to go and collect her from the garden.”
It was clear that the butler had already guessed the first thing on Watson’s mind and the Duke quickly shook his head. “No, do not trouble yourself. I can go and find her.”
“The last I saw, she was beside the pond with Miss Percival,” the butler explained and just as he said, that was how he found his daughter and her governess.
Creeping slowly through the rose garden maze that surrounded the pond, so not to disturb them both, Watson peered over the hedge nearest to the centre to find them both lounging on the grass beside the pond with a book in hand.