“I do indeed,” he said, “though I cannot say that I regarded my first tutor as a saint when he taught me to read. He used the rod far too often for my liking!” Edna giggled. “Well, that was silly,” Flora said. “How could you learn properly when you were being beaten? And even worse, how could you enjoy learning? It reminds me of the orphanage when we were taught to sew. I never did learn properly, and I still hate sewing. We never ever got beaten at school, and I will never ever beat my pupils no matter how badly behaved they are or slow to learn. Or my children—if I ever have any.” Claudia pursed her lips. Flora was running on rather. However, her passion was to be commended. “I can see,” the marquess said, “that you will be a superior governess, Miss Bains. Your pupils will be fortunate children. And you, Miss…? He looked with raised eyebrows at Edna, who blushed and giggled and looked as if she wanted nothing more than for a black hole to appear at her feet to swallow her up. “Wood, your grace,” she said. “I mean, my lord.” “Miss Wood,” he said. “Are you to be a governess too?” “Yes, my lord,” she said. “I-I mean your grace.” “I believe,” he said, “that titles must have been invented to confuse us all horribly. As if the fact that most of us are blessed with at least two names is not challenge enough for those who meet us in the course of our lives! And so you are to be a governess, Miss Wood. And doubtless a superior one too, well educated and well trained at Miss Martin’s School.” He looked immediately at Claudia in such a way as to signal to Edna that she need not feel the necessity of composing a reply to his observation. It was, Claudia admitted grudgingly, thoughtful of him. “Miss Martin,” he said, “I came to see if the three of you are ready to retire for the night.