Page 46 of The Cornish Inheritance

Yves halted, leaning close to whisper. “We have to knock, and then that horrid Miss Rodgers will come, clumping in her man’s boots.”

Caroline obliged.

After a long wait, the door opened to reveal Miss Rodgers. The discontented expression on her bony face implied she’d lost a sovereign and found a farthing. Or that she’d just drunk sour milk. Or that she’d trodden in something unpleasant. Most likely all three. “Yes?” she said, her accusing gaze running over Yves and Caroline.

“We’ve come to see Grandpapa,” Yves said, who was not given to beating about the bush. “Let us in.”

By his side, Dash wagged his tail in enthusiastic corroboration.

Miss Rodgers’s deep-set and already slitty eyes narrowed still further. “Sir Hugh is resting.”

Yves, being shorter than Caroline had a better view into the room. “No, he’s not,” he said. “I can see him sitting up in bed.”

“He’s about to be resting,” Miss Rodgers almost snarled. Had she been told not to let them in?

“Who’s that at the door?” called a querulous voice. “Is that my little Yves?”

“Grandpapa!” Yves dived under Miss Rodgers’s hammy arm and raced into the room, closely followed by Dash, barking in excitement. Miss Rodgers made a belated grab for him and missed, but in so doing vacated the door space she’d been blocking. Caroline took advantage by stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

Miss Rodgers gave a growl of fury and interposed herself again between Caroline and the bed, hands on hips and legs akimbo. “Strictly no dogs in here.”

The old man sitting propped up in the bed was made of stern stuff though. “Rodgers,” he snapped, sounding far less querulous than before. “Let the girl through. I’ve a mind to see a prettier face than yours. And that wouldn’t be difficult. Get out of her way. And if I want the dog in here, I’ll have it in here. Off you go and do something else.”

Rodgers moved out of the way but not without bestowing a threatening glare on Caroline. She moved over to the side of the room from where she had a good view of the bed and stood, arms now folded, glaring at Caroline and Yves.

Yves jumped up onto the bed with the air of someone very much at home in the sick room, and so did the agile Dash. He sat holding his grandfather’s hand in his while the old man petted the little dog with his free hand.

“Fetch up a chair, my dear,” the old man said. “Come and sit beside me so I can see you properly. My eyes aren’t what they used to be.”

Caroline glanced around until her gaze fell on an upright chair which she carried over to the bed. She sat on it, close, but not too close, as that would have been too forward of her.

“That’s better,” the old man said, his blue eyes, just like those Nat, Hetty, and Yves shared, twinkling in a roguish manner. “Now I can see you. And what a pretty girl you are.”

Well, perhaps he couldn’t see her quite that well. Caroline had no pretensions to the kind of prettiness Ysella and Hetty possessed, although Kit had once called her striking.

The old man freed his hand from Yves’s grasp and waved it at Rodgers. “What’re you waiting for, woman? I told you once already. You can go. My grandson will keep me company and this fine young lady. I’ll send Yves to find you before they go.”

Rodgers scowled even more, but she left, banging the door behind her as she went.

“That’s better,” the old man said with a sigh. “Can’t stand the woman, but she’s good at her job, and strong with it. I can’t get about the way I used to, and she’s more than capable of picking me up when the occasion arises.” He gave a chuckle. “Sadly, I’m not the man I was.” He held up a bony wrist. “I seem to have wasted away to nothing.” He patted Yves’s hand. “Now introduce me to your new friend, child.”

Yves obliged. “She’s Caroline Fairfield, my governess now, after Aunt Ruth got rid of poor Miss Hawkins.”

The old man’s eyes sharpened. “Miss Hawkins was a good governess.”

Yves nodded. “She was. But Aunt Ruth made her go. And Hester.” He grinned at Caroline. “Caroline is really nice, though. It’s just that Bridget isn’t. She’s head nursery maid now Hester’s gone and she makes me take horrible medicine.” He managed a disgusted sneer.

The old man held a trembling hand out to Caroline, his gaze penetrating. “Charmed to make your acquaintance, Miss Fairfield.”

“You have to call her Caroline,” Yves interjected. “I do when we’re not in lessons and so does Hetty. Miss Fairfield is too unfriendly sounding. That was why I used to call Miss Hawkins Hawkie. Much more friendly that Miss Hawkins.”

The old man raised his eyebrows. “Might I follow my grandson’s lead and use your first name also?”

Caroline nodded. “I should be honored if you would.” How was she ever going to get a private word with Sir Hugh with Yves in such close attendance? He and Dash looked very much settled on the bed. The little spaniel had rolled over onto his back to have his stomach rubbed and Yves was lounging back, leaning on his hands, as though nothing would budge him.

“Now, Caroline,” Sir Hugh said with a smile that reminded her of the undamaged half of his other grandson’s face. “Tell me all about yourself and how a young lady such as you comes to be such a scamp’s governess.”

This took a while and Caroline didn’t divulge all of what she’d told Nat. Not that she wanted to hide it from Sir Hugh, but rather because she didn’t want Yves exposed to that sad tale. She managed to intersperse the story with a few choice anecdotes from her life at Cadley that had both members of her audience laughing.