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than bring up the point. There were a thousand ways to accidently overstep one’s boundaries in society. She carried no placement in society but Lord Mitchell did, and she needed to be careful with her words. She and Charlie were fortunate with this opportunity and a roof over their heads.
“I have complete confidence in your skills. My grandson, Graeme, stands as the only hope for this family. I am in charge of this house, but for some unknown reason my younger son, God rest his soul, did not name me as the boy’s guardian. I know Thomas and John were close, but why he would choose…” Lord Mitchell stopped in mid sentence. “I don’t have much patience for children. I feel the boy needed guidance and a governess rather than the house staff will help. I need to make it clear that any decisions past the hiring of you today are to be run through my son… John ,” he said the name as if he just bit into a rotten apple and found half a worm in the uneaten side.
“Is your son here today, Lord Mitchell? I would very much like to meet him before tomorrow’s lessons begin.” Vivienne smoothed hands over her thick dark blue satin skirt.
“Now that I have your word you have taken the position, follow me.”Lord Mitchell pulled his large girth from the gilded chair. “If you wish to meet my son, I will take you to him.”
Vivienne trailed after the lord as they moved down the great hall. House staff nodded and curtsied as the lord passed. They entered a cheery sunroom decorated in yellow and gold brocade walled in ancient tapestries.
Lord Mitchell strode across the room before stopping in front of a settee. He jabbed the shoulder of the sleeping man with his cane. The man rolled their direction and opened his eyes.
“Father?” the man asked and rubbed bleary eyes.
“Look at you… get up.”
The man began to pull the blanket off his legs. Vivienne felt heat flush her cheeks as she said a silent prayer of thanks when she saw he wore his pants. What kind of a game were this father and son playing? Her excitement over the position hire faded quickly into uncertainty.
“This is my son, John,” Lord Mitchell announced. “John, this is Vivienne Ravenhill, Graeme’s new governess.”
Vivienne wasn’t sure what she should do in a situation such as this. The younger Lord Mitchell held his face placid, as one did in social settings, but the man was obviously as embarrassed as she. He ran a hand through his dark hair and cleared his throat as he stood.
“Miss Ravenhill, I… did not know we were expecting company this morning. Much less that my father had taken it upon himself to hire a governess for Graeme.” His large hands and long fingers lay quite against his thighs.
“It’s Mrs. Ravenhill. I am a widow. My son Charles and I will be moving into our room in the east wing this afternoon.” She paused. “Am I to understand that decisions regarding Graeme will be brought up to you?” When he nodded, she added, “I feel I must allow for your additional approval of my position.
Lord John watched her for a moment. “Of course. Graeme needs… someone. I am sure you will be a fine choice as governess and that my father has screened your credentials thoroughly.”
Vivienne nodded. “I would like to discuss any guidance or suggestions you have for Graeme’s. There is no rush. If you have suffered a difficult night, continue your rest and have the staff call for me when there is a more convenient time later today. Are you ill, Lord Mitchell?”
His father grumbled, “Ill? Ha, just another night’s drinking bout. Worthless.”
The hurt from his father’s words reflected clearly in John’s eyes. He looked from his father back to her. “I insist you call me John. I have never been concerned with titles.” His eyes were the color of rolling hills near the farm where she grew up, a bright, deep green, but the filled with sorrow. Vivienne thought of her son. She hoped she never put that look in her
Pattie Mallette, with A. J. Gregory