Free The Baron's Governess Bride by Deborah Hale

rise.” The familiar words poured out of him. Truth be told, he often felt closer to his Creator when he watched the first green shoots of corn rise from the earth, or listened to the song of a nightingale on a still spring evening, than in this handsome old building of stone and glass. The parts of the Bible that most stirred his soul were those that spoke of the glories of nature.
    As the second verse began, Rupert became aware of a pure, sweet voice trilling the meaningful words of the hymn. As he listened to Miss Ellerby sing, something stirred within him, just like when he heard a nightingale. For a moment it struck him as ironic that such beautiful music should issue from such a drab source. Then again, he reminded himself, it was not the magnificent peacock or the elegant swan that produced the loveliest songs in nature but little brown larks and thrushes.
    That thought made him smile to himself. For a moment, his heart felt whole and lightened in a way it had not for a very long time.
    * * *
    Lord Steadwell had a fine singing voice. Grace secretly admired it as they joined in the hymn. It had a warm, rich depth that lent the words special meaning. Somehow, it drew her closer to him and his daughters, making her feel more a part of the family than she had in any of her previous positions.
    Then the final chords of the hymn died away and that fragile illusion shattered. Phoebe and her father seemed willing to accept Grace, and Sophie might give her a chance…if not for Charlotte. Thinking back over her earlier exchange with Lord Steadwell’s eldest daughter, Grace silently implored the Almighty to give her more patience and help her find a way to gain the child’s respect, if not her affection.
    No brilliant revelation came to her, yet she left the service feeling strengthened and encouraged. As the closing words of the hymn had assured her—everywhere she would be in the coming week, God’s presence would be with her.
    On the way out of the church, Lord Steadwell introduced her to the vicar, who greeted her cordially. “Ellerby? Not by any chance related to the Reverend Jonah Ellerby, late of Witney?”
    “His daughter, sir. Did you know my father?”
    The vicar beamed. “We were at school together. He was a fine man and a most inspiring preacher. His passing was a sad loss for the church and his friends. But it is a pleasure to meet his daughter. I must ask my sister to invite you to tea at the vicarage so we may become better acquainted.”
    A rare sensation of happiness swelled in Grace’s heart. She could imagine few things more agreeable than the opportunity to converse with an old friend of her father’s.
    “Why, thank you, sir!” Grace forgot all about her resolution not to smile in Lord Steadwell’s presence. “I would welcome—”
    “That is very kind of you, Vicar,” his lordship interrupted. “Perhaps once Parliament recesses next summer, Miss Ellerby will not have her hands quite so full with my daughters in my absence.”
    “Yes, of course.” The vicar offered an apologetic smile. “I should have given thought to your duties, Miss Ellerby. When you are less occupied, perhaps.”
    Though she agreed meekly enough, in her heart Grace bristled. Why had his lordship broken in on her conversation in such an imperious manner? Was he trying to imply that one brief visit to the vicarage would interfere with her duties?
    She maintained a frosty silence as they crossed the churchyard, but his lordship appeared not to notice or care that she was vexed with him.
    Most of the other parishioners had departed for home but Mrs. Cadmore and her son lingered at the gate. She was a handsome woman who looked a few years older than Grace, with abundant dark hair elaborately styled. Her lavender-colored pelisse and elegant grey hat suggested that she had recently emerged from the traditional period of mourning. Her son looked a good deal like her.
    Though Mrs. Cadmore had been polite enough, in a rather