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‘Yes,’ he said.
‘And you changed your mind.’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I changed my mind. William shall accompany us to London for the Season.’
It was difficult to tell if the boy was pleased or not. But she very much hoped that he was. She hoped that he would enjoy his trip, and she even hoped that she could be the one to take him to some of those places he was so interested in. Places she had never been either.
* * *
It was a five-hour carriage ride to London, and William was alternatively fidgety, fussy, quiet, and extremely talkative. He spent a good hour of the trip telling Beatrice each and every fact he possessed about Italian architecture. And there were quite a lot of them. Later she realised that it was the same time in the afternoon that she had first arrived at Maynard Park. When William had been screaming inconsolably.
They had to stop so that the little boy could relieve himself, and they paused the carriage, and rather than his governess accompanying him, it was Briggs who got out of the carriage.
Alice made a study out of avoiding any sort of eye contact with Beatrice. Which she supposed was probably common enough, but she didn’t have anyone to talk to. She was older than governesses often were. She reminded Bea nothing of the little frothy blonde creatures her father had favoured putting her in the care of.
Though she had a feeling her governesses had not been selected because of the care they might give her. A thought that made her skin feel coated in oil.
She squirmed in her seat and thought about getting out simply to stretch her legs and get some distance between herself and the unfriendly woman.
But a moment later she heard a great wail, and the governess immediately departed the carriage. Beatrice wasn’t far behind. William was on the ground, refusing to be moved. Briggs looked...grim, stone-faced, but determined.
‘William,’ he said, not raising his voice at all. ‘We must get back in the carriage now.’
‘I’m tired.’ William was flopped, utterly, limply across the ground.
‘It doesn’t matter if you’re tired. You cannot sleep here. You may sleep in the carriage.’
‘I can’t sleep in the carriage. It’s too noisy.’
‘William.’
‘I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.’
And that began a period of long repetition. Denials and recriminations. The young boy thrashed on the ground like a fish, and refused to be settled. He ground his heels into the soft mud, kicking and flinging rocks into the air.
Beatrice was frozen. She had no idea what to do, what to say. She felt useless.
And for the first time she wished she were back at Bybee House. Where she was safe. Where she could not cause the harm that she had clearly caused here by begging Briggs to bring William.
Finally, Briggs plucked him up from the ground and held him as close to his chest as possible while the boy squirmed.
‘Back in the carriage,’ he bit out to both Beatrice and the governess.
The governess obeyed quickly, but Beatrice stood and stared at him.
‘Do you find there is something to gawk at?’ he said.
‘No,’ Beatrice said. ‘I’m not gawking.’
‘You do rather a good imitation of someone who is.’
He moved past her, opening the carriage door and depositing William inside. William continued to howl unhappily.
‘Get inside,’ he said.
And she obeyed.
‘William,’ sh
