The Governess's Secret Baby. Janice Preston

about not wanting his niece’s life disrupted, what did he think he was doing now by avoiding all contact with her every day? He might just as well not live here, for all Clara saw of him.

      Grace kept her counsel. For the time being. For now, she was content to expend her energy in making their upstairs rooms more homely and in coaxing smiles and more words from her daughter.

       Chapter Seven

      ‘Good afternoon.’

      It was the fourth day of her new life at Shiverstone Hall. Grace and Clara had been playing on the lawn in front of the house and now Clara was chirruping away to herself as she gathered pretty stones from the carriageway, piling them into a heap. Grace tore her attention from Clara, shielding her eyes against the low-lying sun. A young man, clad in a black coat and black, low-crowned hat, stood a few yards away, smiling at her.

      ‘Good afternoon. Mr...?’

      ‘Rendell. Ralph Rendell.’ He raised his hat, revealing a mop of curly light brown hair. ‘I am the curate at St Mary’s.’