The Governess's Guide to Marriage

by Liz Tyner

  Without making a sound, he closed the door behind her.

  This was not the time for marriage negotiations.

  He would prefer someone who cared for him, but that came second to integrity.

  Miss Manwaring.

  He’d not asked her to marry him.

  How utterly, blasted kind of her to refuse.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The rapping at the door was much softer than the pounding in Miranda’s head. The night had been a long one. Her stepmother’s outburst had shocked her. And she wasn’t certain her stepmother was smart enough to heed the Duchess’ warning.

  Another rap sounded at the door, more insistent.

  ‘Miss.’ The maid held out a silver salver, and Miranda picked the card from it.

  She raised her eyes to the maid’s.

  ‘He’s now in the library with the Duke, miss.’

  Miranda didn’t speak, but the maid set the tray aside. ‘I’ll help you hurry, miss.’

  The maid had been trained well. She was already at the wardrobe before Miranda could rise and helped her dress quickly.

  After she had finished the last brush of Miranda’s hair, the maid moved to the doorway, snatched the salver and opened the door.

  ‘You’re very well trained,’ Miranda mumbled as she moved by.

  The maid’s gentle laugh of assent followed Miranda as she composed herself and walked to the library.

  The companionable sound of men’s voices drifted her way as she walked inside.

  ‘Miss Miranda.’ Willie’s father rushed to her, emitting concern. He wore his brown hair brushed straight back from his forehead, the silver cravat he wore tied to perfection. His thin nose darted out enough to offset the angular tip of his chin. He caught her hands. That movement shocked her speechlessness. She couldn’t move.

  ‘Why did you not alert me of the terrible circumstances of your departure?’ he asked. ‘If the constable had not questioned me, I would still be in the dark.’

  Chalgrove waited at the side and he appeared to be interested in the top of the mantel, brushing a finger along the top, checking for ash. Something she was sure he did every day.

  ‘I wanted to, but everything has happened so rapidly.’

  His grip relaxed and she pulled her hands away.

  ‘You have no idea how distraught little Willie has been.’ His voice was low, as if he didn’t want Chalgrove to listen, but she saw a lift of Chalgrove’s brows. ‘He’s missed you beyond belief.’

  ‘I’ve missed both the children.’

  ‘I assure you, Miss Miranda, they so want to have you back with them.’

  Chalgrove’s cough interrupted the silence. Her eyes darted to him.

  ‘Pardon.’ This was spoken ever so innocently.

  ‘Willie,’ Mr Trevor continued, lowering his eyes as he spoke, ‘has been unlike himself. He’s acted a terror since you’ve been gone.’ He raised his face. ‘I fear he found more eggs.’

  ‘Oh,’ Miranda commiserated. That was not entirely unlike Willie.

  ‘The horses.’

  ‘Ooh.’ She almost groaned, knowing how much Mr Trevor hated it when his horses were dripping yolk and how poor Nicky really detested Willie on occasion. Throwing eggs at the livestock equated to the same treason as throwing stones at the Prince.

  ‘You must return. Immediately.’ He gave her a smile. Which surprised her. She hadn’t realised his lips could move upwards. ‘My carriage can carry you home. I know Mrs Manwaring sent for the trunk, but when I asked the staff to prepare it, they were so downcast and surprised that you would leave without informing them... I suggested that I must make certain that it was your wish.’

  Divided inside, she made sure her true emotions didn’t show on her face. She beamed at him and, by the reaction he gave, he hadn’t known she could do that either.

  ‘I do...want to return to your home.’ The words carried the same emphasis as a spinster might accept a proposal from a rich, handsome war hero. She would see the children again. She could regain her old life.

  ‘Miss Manwaring...’ Chalgrove’s words dropped into the room like little pelts of sleet on a bare face ‘...you are a witness in a crime. A crime in which serious consequences will be levelled against the culprits. A crime against a peer of the realm.’

  The Duke moved forward, stopping near Miranda, and his eyes clamped on the other man. ‘We cannot risk her being detained again. I might not be with her next time and who knows what might happen.’

  ‘You were with her?’ Trevor sputtered. ‘With my Miss Miranda?’

  ‘Not when I was taken. Afterwards,’ Miranda reassured him quickly. It would not do for him to think of her having an improper rendezvous.

  ‘Your Miss Miranda?’ the Duke asked.

  Trevor’s neck stretched to almost double its length. ‘She has been a member of my household since my son was a babe. The word choice stands. Perhaps I should have included the children as well.’ His neck didn’t retreat and his attention swivelled to her. ‘Our Miss Miranda.’

  She hid all the emotion from her face. He had never called her that. She didn’t think he’d ever called her anything but Miss Miranda.

  ‘There was a serious crime committed,’ the Duke said. ‘Miss Manwaring could have been injured. She is protected here.’

  ‘You cannot possibly think she is still in danger?’ the older man burst out. If she hadn’t swayed away from him, he would have clasped her arm.

  At her other side, Chalgrove must have noticed, because he moved closer.

  ‘You were not told because I do not want it bandied about,’ she reassured him. ‘I could not send such a thing in a note.’ She asked her employer for forgiveness with her eyes.

  ‘She has been secluded and I am sure the criminals will be caught very soon.’ Chalgrove took her elbow.

  Trevor flinched, but his voice intensified. ‘I will have guards hired if necessary,’ he reassured her. ‘My son has been incorrigible. Only Miss Miranda is competent to guide him.’ He ended the sentence with a glare at the Duke’s hand on her elbow.

  She breathed in the masculine scent of Chalgrove. She felt the brush of his coat against her shoulder and the sensation moved beyond the fabric of the garment and deeper into her body.

  She almost wished to return to the day in the cottage so she could again be alone with Chalgrove, and have the same feeling of closeness she’d had with him when they had escaped and he’d held her in the rain.

  ‘My employer is quite kind.’ She hid the longing she felt for Chalgrove, and instead gave him what she hoped was a bland glance.

  His eyes rested on her before he spoke, and it was almost as if they were alone again.

  ‘Miss Manwaring. Your safety. I cannot risk you being harmed,’ Chalgrove said, and something in his reply reached deep inside to warm her.

  Trevor brushed the hair from his temple, interrupting the moment. ‘I have known Miss Miranda some time now and the house is empty without her.’ He lifted his view higher. ‘One might say desolate.’

  ‘Of course it is,’ Chalgrove agreed. ‘I commiserate. But Miss Manwaring’s safety is foremost in both our minds.’ He dipped his head to her when he spoke. ‘I’ll see that she visits the children.’

  Trevor’s jaw trembled as he decided how best to respond. He appraised Miranda, then studied the Duke.

  The determination in Chalgrove convinced him.

  ‘I find that acceptable.’ He gazed at Miranda a second longer than necessary. ‘If that is suitable to her?’

  Chalgrove, tension in his face, asked, ‘Miss Manwaring?’

  ‘I do miss the little ones. But I would not wish to impose on your hospitality. You don’t have to travel with me.’

  ‘Of course you miss them,’ Chalgrove said. ‘But you do not know what might happen if you were to
go out alone. Right now, few know she is staying here. This is where she is safest. I can take her to visit the children and will have a veritable army of servants with us.’

  Miranda regarded Chalgrove, a man appearing more solid than a continent. Hesitation flashed from her employer’s eyes before he moved a hair closer to her.

  ‘Your safety is foremost, my dear Miss Miranda. The Duke’s concerns are serious. We must keep you safe. Will you visit today?’ His expression was hopeful.

  ‘Yes,’ she said.

  ‘Yes,’ Chalgrove reiterated. ‘I will go with her.’

  ‘You don’t have to,’ the older man said. ‘She can ride in my coach and your army of servants can accompany us. We would not want to interrupt your many important duties.’

  ‘My number-one duty for the foreseeable future is to make certain Miss Manwaring is safe and that the criminals are apprehended.’

  Trevor moved, reticent, but still determined. He managed to take both Miranda’s hands while under Chalgrove’s disapproving glower. ‘It will mean so much to the children to see you, Miss Miranda.’

  Then he bowed to the Duke. ‘You are indeed kind in providing assistance. I didn’t realise until she wasn’t there what a difference she makes in our entire household.’

  Our again? Miranda considered that she might have misunderstood the emphasis, but from the scowl on Chalgrove’s face, she was certain she had not.

  * * *

  She studied Chalgrove when they were alone.

  ‘He should have brought the children with him...if he was indeed thinking of them.’ Chalgrove had already ordered that his carriage be readied.

  ‘They are a handful in a carriage.’

  ‘Miss Manwaring.’ He frowned. ‘I don’t like him interfering with your safety and I don’t like the way he ogled you.’

  ‘He wasn’t. He was concerned for me.’ Miranda had been relieved, reassured she had a chance to return to her job. And she’d not noticed a single ogle.

  ‘He called you Miss Miranda.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Of course?’ The word rolled from his lips like an accusation.

  ‘So do the children. Everyone in the household calls me Miss Miranda. They always have.’

  ‘That’s quite informal.’

  ‘Maybe here, at a ducal estate, but not at the Trevor household.’

  He raised a brow. ‘Did you know he fancies you?’

  She pulled a face. ‘He does not.’

  ‘I’ll make a wager he does.’

  ‘Oh, my.’ She clutched the chair nearest to her. ‘I could... If he truly, truly cared for me.’ She gulped. ‘You think he fancies me? That possibility had never entered my mind. Never.’

  She twirled around. ‘The children. I had not credited Mr Trevor seeing me as anything but another employee.’ Then she touched her chest. ‘It isn’t such a huge leap. Manwaring’s first wife always introduced me as her dear daughter. So, I am almost of the same standing as my employer is. Not so far beneath him as I had always concluded. And our ages are not as far apart as I’d once thought.’

  She rested fingers on Chalgrove’s arm, feeling a need to explain. ‘The children. They are so precious.’

  ‘I’m sure they are.’

  He strode to the window and strode back to her. ‘And they do need you in their life. They have no mother and a man with a worn-out hat for a father.’

  She put her hands on her hips and frowned at him. ‘Those are extremely precious children and my employer has always treated me with the utmost courtesy. And he dresses quite finely.’

  ‘What is his first name?’

  She paused, eyes narrowed. ‘Carlton.’

  ‘Have you ever called him that?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘I could be wrong about his being attracted to you. He would have asked you to call him by his first name if he fancied you.’

  ‘Not necessarily. His wife always called him Mr Trevor and he loved her very much. Everyone calls him that, except the children.’

  She considered the situation. Her body relaxed. ‘Thank you. Thank you for telling me that he might fancy me. I would never have imagined it.’

  She paused. ‘And, these last few days, being away from the little ones has been difficult. I understand how important they are even more now.’ She put her fingertips to her chin. ‘Maybe that’s what the kidnapper had in mind. It didn’t occur to me.’

  She put her head down. ‘When she said she was bringing me a husband, I presumed you were the man. But now I see it differently. Perhaps she did think you a tailor and was merely trying to spur my employer on to jealousy.’

  His eyes locked on her as if she were the one who’d thrown him into the room. ‘Bringing you a husband? She said she was bringing you a husband,’ he repeated, eyes tensed.

  She swallowed. ‘Yes.’

  ‘The woman is cracked.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Why would she think she had to capture a husband for someone as lovely as you?’

  * * *

  He didn’t know why a bird-witted woman would think Miss Manwaring needed any help with getting wed. After all, the old woman had him to help that dolt, Trevor, court her.

  That would have to stop.

  ‘You act as if it’s hard for you to acknowledge that someone could care for you.’ Chalgrove levelled a gaze at her. ‘Do you not fathom what a treasure you are?’

  She sputtered.

  He’d attended many dances in his lifetime. Conversed with countless beauties, but no one affected him like Miss Manwaring.

  ‘Yes,’ he insisted. ‘You care for a man’s children as if they were your own. You work to ensure the servants respect and are fond of you. You were thrown into a house with a stranger and you fought back. You ran through the rain to safety, shivering, and all you cared about was seeing the children.’

  ‘Anyone would do the same.’

  ‘I don’t see it that way.’

  He took a step closer, standing so near he could have told if she’d had a sip of wine. ‘Last night, your stepmother slapped you. I cannot tolerate anyone striking you.’

  ‘Of course, your mother told you.’

  She smelled—he paused—like nature. Like a morning when all the best trees bloomed and filled the air with the scent of their blossoms.

  ‘Why are you so kind? Does your heart take up the whole of you?’

  ‘I think the love for the children takes up my heart. I had no choice but to be who I am, if I wanted to survive.’

  ‘Of course you had a choice. Everyone does.’

  He put a fingertip to her chin. ‘It’s not what is good to us that gives strength to some people. It is what is bad. The trials.’

  ‘I was fortunate. To have my mother. To have the job of caring for two little ones daily. To be locked away with someone who could find a way out of the old cottage.’

  ‘I stand corrected. It isn’t what is bad that gives us strength. It is how we react to it.’

  He hadn’t reacted well to everyone else calling her Miranda. Well, he could rectify that.

  ‘My given name is Robert, but no one has ever called me that, except my mother when she is angry. I suppose that is why I have not suggested you could call me that as I don’t associate it with pleasantness.’

  ‘A fine name.’

  ‘I suppose I consider Chal my given name, in a sense.’

  ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe I thought you a Mr Chalgrove when we first met.’

  My father was Chalgrove and I had an honorific, but among family and the closest friends I was called Chal. I was assessed as a younger version of my father.’

  ‘Did he mind?’

  ‘No. Everyone acknowledged him as the Duke of Chalgrove and, as we didn’t question but that h
e would live for ever, I was the heir happily one step behind the man. The subordinate who relished being outranked.’

  ‘You don’t seem to me as if it would be easy for you to accept a lesser role.’

  ‘It was. And it was easy to step into my father’s duties, but hard to lose the man. The jest was that even when I had to take three steps to his one step, I was always with him.’

  He remembered playing in his father’s shadow and his father stretching out his arms, and Chalgrove had stretched, too. His father had spun so that their arms were the same length, then he’d moved slightly so that their shadowed hands touched. His father had knelt and a shadow of an arm had encompassed his shoulders.

  ‘I didn’t understand that a woman would really love children until I met you, Miss Manwaring. It hadn’t occurred to me. But if you wish to call me Robert, I would accept it.’

  ‘I see you as Chalgrove. There’s nothing wrong with that name.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Manwaring.’

  ‘Miranda,’ she said. ‘Though it would sound strange coming from your lips.’

  ‘Just different.’ He closed the distance.

  He took her hand and pulled the back of it to his lips. ‘I am pleased to meet you, Miranda.’

  ‘And I you. Do you grasp how important the children are to me?’

  ‘I can only guess.’

  ‘I was left beside the road for someone to find. Alone. I had no one. No one.’ She’d never forgotten those feelings. Even then, she’d been aware that the woman who’d found her must like her or she’d not be kept.

  She’d felt so betrayed, but then the nice woman had taken her in and Miranda saw the woman argue with her husband, a man who belonged in the house, about her presence. At first, in the vehicle, he’d only grumbled that they could take the child home, feed it and find it a place to live.

  ‘I had to make the woman, my mother, love me, or I would be tossed aside again.’ She’d caused as little disruption in the household as she could, knowing that her future would be determined by the woman’s whim.

  She’d discovered immediately that the man didn’t like her. But the woman wanted a little doll just as much as Miranda did. And Miranda had earned the toy she wanted. She did exactly as her mother requested and the only variances were times she was confused by the differences in her old world and new one and didn’t know what to do.