“If only Hugh had not taken it into his ridiculous head to run off to Bristol,” Selena murmured. Her eyebrows rose in exasperation. She looked so like Hugh that Philomena had to turn away, fiddling with a vase of dried lavender on a nearby table. Her fingers, shaking and clumsy, broke off half a dozen stems. In her distress, she hardly noticed as they showered her apron with tiny fragrant flower heads.

“What business he had in the West Country, I do not know.” Selena shook her head. “I suppose he is off to find some more complicated machines to thresh the wheat or dig the earth or some such ridiculous nonsense.” Selena’s delicate little nose wrinkled. “Hugh used to disappear like this often when Beatrice was alive, but since you came, he has appeared almost content.” She could not know how her words sliced Philomena’s heart like knives.

Unable for the moment to speak, Philomena slipped into the next room. She busied herself replacing John’s crayons in their container and sorting his drawings into neat piles until she was sufficiently collected to speak.

She turned back to Hugh’s sister, determined to avoid a rift between Selena and her brother. “Dear Selena. You have been so kind to me. Please trust me now when I say that this is for the best.” Her voice broke a little, but she squared her shoulders and continued. “I cannot reproach your mother for attempting to prevent a liaison that would be most unsuitable. I know I must leave. I am glad that Lady Thatcham’s plans have made it possible for me to go at once.”

Selena snorted. “What nonsense, to say you are unsuitable, just because you are not a member of a great family. We are not living in the eighteenth century, you know. Why, no one cares about that sort of thing any more. Worrying about rank or money only leads to unhappiness. Look at Hugh himself.” Selena grew pink with indignation. “No one could have been more unsuitable for Hugh than Beatrice. Why, she shared none of his interests and made him thoroughly miserable, despite coming from one of the best old families. I am sure Hugh wished he never married her. Although she was very beautiful and rich, I would far rather have you for a sister and I care not who knows it.”

Selena subsided, cheeks aglow. She blew her nose noisily into her handkerchief and allowed Philomena by degrees to comfort her. A little older and far wiser than Selena, she tried in vain to explain that differences in birth did matter and that any relationship with a nursemaid would severely damage Hugh’s reputation. The words she spoke rang true, though each echoed in her own ears like a funeral dirge.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

“John,” Philomena said. They were alone in the nursery. “Your grandmamma has had a happy thought.”