The Governess Club: Bonnie Read Online Free

eased herself over into the space between the two boys and pulled the cover over all three of them. Within moments, both had sought out her warmth and snuggled into her sides. Taking comfort from the weight of their small bodies, Bonnie drifted back into dreamless sleep.
    S tephen grimaced against the bitterness of his second cup of coffee. He had not slept well the night before, jumping at every possible creak and groan the house made. Strange how different the place felt without George and Roslyn. Even the bed had felt less comfortable and the fire had lacked warmth. At least the food had not suffered. He gulped down the remains of the coffee and pushed away his empty plate. He had work to do.
    He strode into the hall, calling for Burdis. “Have my horse saddled,” he instructed the butler when he appeared.
    “Sir,” Burdis began.
    “I’ll be down momentarily,” Stephen continued, making his way to the stairs. “I expect to be out for most of the morning.”
    “But—” Burdis tried again.
    “I have little time to waste, Burdis,” Stephen said.
    “I couldn’t agree more.”
    Stephen halted on the stairs. He turned to look at Burdis, not recognizing the new voice, but something tugged at his memory as he looked at the visitor. He stood in the drawing room doors, his hands behind his back and his eyes made owlish by a pair of spectacles. His gaze met Stephen’s briefly before dropping respectfully into a bow.
    Stephen studied the stranger as he made his way back down the stairs. He took in the man’s stature, so tall and thin as to be likened to a flagpole. There were not many people Stephen had to tilt his head to look at, but this man clearly belonged in that category.
    “Sir Stephen, it is a great relief to know you have arrived. Mr. Sylvester Renard at your service.” The tall man straightened out of his bow.
    The memory returned with that thought—George’s man of business, Mr. Renard. Older than Stephen, Renard’s dark hair had become liberally streaked with gray. His clothing struck Stephen as odd; while well-made and conservative, they were the exact brown of the walls, giving the impression of blending in. It seemed to take the idea of being an invisible servant to a new level. When Stephen did get a good look at the man of business, he thought a stiff Scottish wind would blow him over, he was so thin.
    Stephen nodded his greeting. “I was unaware of the situation prior to my arrival yesterday. If I had known, I would not have delayed.”
    “Yes, of course.” Renard adjusted his spectacles. “It was an unfortunate tragedy to lose Viscount and Viscountess Darrow in one fell swoop like that. I remain, however, at your service.”
    Stephen cocked his eyebrow. “Is any tragedy fortunate?” he queried.
    Renard blinked. “Of course not, sir.”
    Stephen turned to the butler. “My horse, Burdis.”
    Renard interrupted. “If I may be so bold, the delay in your arrival has left a great deal that requires attention. Perhaps now is not a good time to leave?”
    Stephen looked at the door. He had intended to ride over to where the old bridge had been, to examine it for any hint of anything suspicious. Time and inclement weather being factors, the probability of him discovering any such thing was already low; the thought of delaying even more did not sit well with him.
    Yet Renard was also correct. Though he doubted an hour or two’s delay would change the mountain of paperwork much, Stephen recognized the atmosphere clinging to the manor. It wasn’t just mourning spoiling the mood, but resentment. As much as he wanted to discover more regarding his friends’ deaths, he knew that George and Roslyn would want him to focus on caring for their sons. Doing so would honor their memories.
    “Burdis, I will be going for a ride after luncheon. Be sure to have my horse readied then.”
    S tephen reined in his horse, Emperor, to study the river from a vantage point. A new stone bridge had been built a short