When a Duke Loves a Governess

by Olivia Drake

  “Or someone who’d already known of its existence.” Still wearing that strange accusatory expression, Carlin prowled back and forth in front of her. “I first mentioned the map to you on the day that you and Sophy were in the conservatory. The same night I came upon you hiding here in the darkness. Right over there by my trunk.”

  Icy fingers crept over her skin. Was he suggesting that she was behind this robbery? Surely not. “I was looking for a book on heraldry.”

  “In my study? I found that odd at the time and even more so now.” He slowly shook his head. “I suspect you were hunting for the treasure map. When I took you to the library, you asked about it again. Tell me, was that kiss designed to put me off my guard?”

  She bristled at his wrongful interpretation of events, even as a part of her cringed that he could think her so devious. “Certainly not. Carlin, you must believe me.”

  He stalked closer, planted his hands on the arms of her chair, and stared straight into her face. In the early sunlight, the gold flecks in his brown eyes flashed like sparks of fire. “Stop lying to me, Tessa. You’ve been lying all along. And I presume you have a partner in this scheme.”

  “A-a partner?”

  “Orrin Nesbitt. Did you pass those notebooks to him just now in the garden?”

  “No! I swear I did not.”

  His lips compressed. “I’ve sensed from the start that you were not who you claimed to be. I should have heeded my instincts, Banfield’s too. He also saw you with Nesbitt in the garden.”

  So that was why the secretary had looked so suspiciously at her and had requested a private word with the duke. Her spirits sank even lower. “I already explained to you, Orrin is merely a friend.”

  “Enough of these Banbury tales. A constable will be summoned to take you to Bow Street. The Runners will uncover the truth. If necessary, you’ll be arraigned before a judge and charged with theft.”

  Tessa gazed at him in horror. It would be her word against the testimony of a duke. She could well imagine how that would turn out. She’d be confined for the rest of her life in prison. Orrin, too. When the diaries weren’t found, Carlin would accuse him of having already sold them to the highest bidder.

  A knock broke the tense silence. As if from a distance, she saw Carlin go to open the door. A footman entered, bearing a silver tray, and the duke directed him to place it on a table by the hearth. Her mind felt so mired in panic that she couldn’t think. It might have been a moment later or ten minutes that the duke took her arm and drew her up out of the chair.

  She stiffened at his touch. Visions of iron-barred cells swam in her head. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Over here. Now sit, you look pale enough to swoon.”

  Tessa collapsed onto a chaise near the hearth. She scarcely felt the softness of the cushions. A fire burned on the grate, though she could not recall seeing anyone light it. The radiating heat caused her to shiver, making her realize she felt frozen to the core.

  Carlin pressed a cup into her hand. “Take this.”

  She obediently wrapped her fingers around the hot porcelain, took a sip of dark scalding liquid, and grimaced. “Ugh, coffee. And it’s far too sweet.”

  “You’ve had a shock, and this will restore you. Drink it.”

  Tessa lacked the strength to defy that brusque command. She choked down the coffee, wishing it were tea. But at least it helped to thaw her body from that terrible chill.

  Carlin sat down opposite her and drank his own coffee. He took a jam tart, then offered the plate of pastries to her. She shook her head. Her stomach felt so cramped that not even a cream bun could tempt her.

  Within a few moments, though, she rallied enough to say, “You should be happy for me to swoon. Then you needn’t bother with chains when you haul me off to prison.”

  “I wouldn’t need chains for a dab of a woman like you.”

  The remark did nothing to bolster her confidence. She was well aware that a man of his tall, muscled build could easily overcome any resistance from her. It was hard to fathom that this hard-eyed stranger was the same warm man who had kissed her with such passion, who had shown her his parrots and his plants, who had sought her advice about his daughter’s conduct.

  But perhaps that was a big part of this, Tessa thought wretchedly. The duke had confided in her and now he felt betrayed. As much as it pained her to admit it, the circumstances were damning. By her own foolish lies, she had landed herself in hot water. And she couldn’t fault him for thinking the worst of her.

  He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “You should know that you didn’t succeed in stealing the treasure map. It wasn’t in my notebooks.”

  She blinked. “Oh?”

  “Do you understand what I’m saying, Tessa? It means you’ve failed, and those diaries are useless to you. If you’ll return them at once, I might be persuaded to drop all charges.”

  A flicker of hope in her wanted to believe he still harbored a modicum of faith in her. But he didn’t, and the only way to restore that faith was to admit everything. Not just to save her own skin but to offer restitution in the form of honesty. Even if he dismissed her, even if she ended up on the street with nowhere to go, she must do what was right.

  Collecting her courage, she set aside her cup and folded her hands in her lap. “I will confess, Your Grace. But only to the charge of coming here to Carlin House under false pretenses. The truth is … I’ve never before worked as a governess. In my previous position, I was a milliner’s assistant.”

  “A hatmaker!” His startled gaze burned into her. “You swore that you were experienced with children.”

  “I am. I grew up in a foundling home, where it was my job to watch over the younger girls. If you doubt me, you may check the records at St. George’s on Mercer Street, where I lived for eight years. When I was fourteen, I found work at a millinery shop.” She lifted her chin. “And you cannot deny that Lady Sophy’s behavior is much improved. I’ve succeeded where your more proper governesses failed.”

  “Of course I can’t deny that.” Carlin eyed her skeptically while refilling his cup from the silver pot. “Yet your speech is too refined for someone who grew up in the East End.”

  At the orphanage, Tessa had been taunted by the matron for her fancy airs and had learned to pepper her words with local color. “I paid close heed to the ladies who frequented the shop. But more important, I was taught proper speech by my mother. Mama picked it up while working as a maid in a lord’s house, until he got her with child and turned her out onto the street.”

  That drew a sharp frown from Carlin. She expected him to recoil at her base birth, but he merely said, “Which lord?”

  “I don’t know. That is the crux of the matter, and the reason why I came here to Carlin House. I was hoping to discover his identity.”

  Carlin set down his cup with a clatter. “Good God. If you’re implying he was someone in my family—”

  “No, I’m not. Let me explain.” Tessa drew out the delicate gold pendant and let it rest in her palm. “My mother was struck down by a carriage as we were crossing the street. As she lay dying, she gave me this necklace. She said it would help me to find my father. But being only six years of age, I had no notion of-of what she meant.”

  As her voice choked, the duke’s expression seemed to soften. But in the next instant he flicked a doubtful glance at the pendant. “You expect me to believe that no one at this foundling home noticed that you were wearing a gold chain around your neck, let alone ever tried to steal it?”

  “I made sure always to wear a high-necked gown or a shawl at my throat. Mama had warned me to guard it, you see. It wasn’t until recently that I realized the design on it is more than just a pretty decoration, it’s the key to identifying my father. You’ll understand if you take a closer look.”

  Carlin left his chair and sat beside her. He picked up the pendant and leaned closer to give it a cursory inspection in the sunlight. The mere brush of his fingers disturbed he
r heartbeat, as did his scent of dark spice. It brought the haunting reminder of how low she’d fallen in his esteem.

  “It’s a coat of arms,” he said flatly.

  She nodded. “My father’s coat of arms. I’ve tried for the past year to look for this crest on carriage doors or on a house here in Mayfair. But while working at the millinery I had only one afternoon free a week. That’s why I took the position here, in the hope of having more opportunities to walk around the neighborhood. Alas, you forbade me to take Lady Sophy off the premises.”

  “An elaborate ruse when you needed only to consult a book on heraldry.”

  “Perhaps you’ll think me stupid, but I didn’t realize that such a book even existed until Miss Knightley told me. That was on the very afternoon before you found me here in your study.”

  Carlin dropped the dainty pendant back into Tessa’s palm. “For all I know you could have picked up that necklace in a pawnshop.”

  Bitter frustration clogged her throat. “Then ask Miss Knightley. She can confirm my story. Or would you rather believe that I bought an article of jewelry on the off chance that I might need to con my new employer with it? As if I could even afford such an expensive piece on the pittance I was earning!”

  His dark brows snapped together in a frown. He seemed to consider her words a moment before gruffly saying, “All right, then. Presuming you’re telling the truth, what do you mean to do once you’ve learned this man’s name? Blackmail him?”

  “Certainly not,” she said through clenched teeth. It wouldn’t do to antagonize the duke when her life hung in the balance. “All I have ever wanted in life was to open my own millinery shop. So when I find my father, I intend to ask the callous lecher to advance me a loan. It’s the least he can do to make up for his years of neglect.”

  Angling away from Carlin, Tessa turned her head lest he spy the hot moisture welling in her eyes. Her fingers trembled from the force of her emotions as she tucked the pendant back inside the bodice of her gown. It was clear that the duke still mistrusted her. Was that any surprise after she’d confessed to being a liar?

  All of her hopes and dreams had come crashing down around her. She had not identified her father, she would never have her shop, and she’d be lucky to escape this awful quandary with her neck intact. And she had only herself to blame.

  She drew a ragged breath and blinked away tears before pivoting back toward Carlin. He hadn’t bothered to return to his seat. He was lounging beside her on the chaise, watching her. A certain grimness lingered at the corners of his mouth, yet that harsh severity had eased, and he merely looked like the arrogant duke of their first meeting.

  If his mood had mellowed, even a little, then she desperately needed to press her advantage. The alternative was to be imprisoned on false charges. “Please, Carlin, you must believe me,” she implored. “I’ve told you everything. And I beg you not to have Orrin arrested. He came here today only to tell me that he’s been making inquiries about where Mama may have been employed. So take out your wrath on me if you like, but not on him.”

  During her speech, Tessa unthinkingly extended her hand across the cushion to touch Carlin’s. How warm and strong his fingers felt, how dearly she wanted him to caress her as he’d done in the library. Then she realized her foolishness. Lud, now he would think she was trying to work her wiles on him.

  Yet when she tried to withdraw, he gripped her fingers for a stirring moment and gave her a brusque nod before releasing her. “I won’t turn either of you in to the law. But I intend to do a thorough investigation. As to your father, we’ll see what can be discovered when the book arrives.”

  Relief welled up in her and bubbled forth in a tremulous smile. “I-I don’t know what to say except … thank you. I vow, I didn’t come here to steal any treasure map. I knew nothing about it when I applied for the post.” Seeing the value of a little self-enhancement, she added, “I’m truly sorry for lying, but pray consider, if I’d confessed my background from the start, you wouldn’t have hired me. And Lady Sophy would still be terrorizing the nursery staff.”

  An appreciative glint lit his dark eyes, though it didn’t quite reach his lips. He stood up. “We’ll discuss my daughter later. For now, you’re to stay inside this house. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, of course.” Tessa also arose, feeling as light as air without the weight of her secrets. A way to make restitution occurred to her. “I was thinking … even if I were to find my father, I needn’t leave your employ at once. Lady Sophy will require a proper governess eventually, but it’s too soon yet and you won’t want her to lapse back into bad behavior. Of course, that’s only if … if you wish for me to remain here for a time.”

  “We shall see. I’ve other things on my mind at present.”

  The robbery. In all the turmoil over her own fate, she’d nearly forgotten there was a thief to apprehend. She glanced around at the remaining chaos. “This was no ordinary burglary, Carlin. If it was about the treasure map, surely that confirms the culprit was someone who was here yesterday evening.”

  He raked his fingers through his hair. “Frankly, I don’t know what to think.”

  Because he’d been certain it was her and he hadn’t yet considered anyone else. So Tessa speculated on his behalf. “Well, if I were a thief, I’d have hidden myself somewhere in the house after the lecture. There are any number of places on this floor, or perhaps even upstairs in one of the unused bedchambers. Then I’d have waited until everyone was asleep, searched for the diaries, and left by the back door. It was unlocked, you’ll recall.”

  Carlin went to pull the bell rope. “I’ll assemble the footmen who were on duty last night. They’ll know if any visitor was not observed to have departed.”

  “Of course there’s another possibility,” she mused, picking up one of the framed paintings from the floor. “The villain may have left through the front door and then sneaked back inside by way of the garden before Roebuck locked the doors. In which case, it won’t do any good to question the footmen.”

  “Very true. Has anyone ever told you, you have the mind of a criminal?”

  “Yes, you have.”

  Her tart retort wrested a chuckle from Guy. He was relieved to be back on friendly footing with Tessa. If truth be told, he’d never wanted to believe her capable of the crime. But once he’d noticed that his diaries were missing, logic had forced him to assemble her actions into an inescapable conclusion. The inconsistencies in her personal history. His discovery of her in his study that one night. Her rendezvous with Orrin Nesbitt in the garden.

  All of it had pointed toward her guilt. However, Guy had been missing half the pieces of the puzzle. He hadn’t known the truth about her background or her reason for seeking the position of governess.

  When Roebuck entered, Guy tasked him to fetch the footmen. Then he set to work hunting for the guest list among the papers strewn across his desk.

  As he did so, Guy surreptitiously watched Tessa, who was absorbed in straightening his books. A hatmaker, by God. One couldn’t help but admire her audacity. She was a clever, plucky woman, and as much as he despised her deception, he could understand why she had done it.

  Her story was perfectly plausible. Growing up in an orphanage explained her unfamiliarity with aristocratic homes, her unorthodox approach to child rearing, and her occasional lapse into a lower-class dialect. As for the gold pendant, however, he remained dubious. Perhaps the necklace had come from a lord—there were plenty of noble by-blows in England. Yet a six-year-old’s memory of her dying mother’s words seemed a bit unreliable.

  Tessa believed it, though, he was sure of that. Her voice had held the passion of conviction. In particular, he winced to recall that glimmer of tears before she’d turned her face away from him. Then as now he felt the powerful urge to protect her.

  The early-morning sunlight kissed her buttercream hair and lit the delicacy of her face. The fine manners of the upper class seemed to come naturally to her, yet no socie
ty lady he knew would ever have pitched in to clean up this mess. Perhaps that was why he vastly preferred Tessa’s company to that of any of the debutantes who were considered suitable for a man of his rank.

  The footmen trooped into the study, half a dozen of them, and he painstakingly reviewed the names on the guest list with them. Once he glanced up and spotted Tessa edging toward the door, but he motioned to her to stay. He didn’t want her returning to the nursery just yet. Not when she might offer some insight on the attendees. At least that was the excuse he gave himself.

  In the end, only one guest had not been observed by anyone to have departed. His identity left Guy numb with surprise. He swore the footmen to secrecy, dismissed them, and stood frowning at the empty doorway.

  Tessa appeared at his side. “So the culprit is Lord Haviland. If I may ask, how well do you know him?”

  Guy turned a bleak eye on her. “We’ve been friends since our school days. Blast! It just can’t have been Will.”

  “You did mention that he’s a gambler. Perhaps he’s in desperate need of funds and hopes to enrich himself with the treasure map.”

  “Still, I cannot believe it of him. Despite his faults, he’s always had a certain sense of honor.”

  She was silent a moment, then said, “Well, perhaps there were others at the lecture with a reason to steal the map. Remember, the robber may have left by the front door and then reentered at the rear in order to throw you off the scent. There was a middle-aged man with a beaky nose who kept hounding you about the treasure.”

  “Lord Churchford. He’s as rich as Croesus yet he’s always greedy for more gold. Yes, I could see him funding an expedition if he had the map.”

  “Then add him to your list. Is there anyone else?

  Mentally reviewing the guests, Guy prowled back and forth on the plush carpet. “Another possibility is the Honorable John Symonton. He’s a scholar at Bullock’s Museum.”

  “Was he the young gent wearing spectacles?”

  “One and the same. For Symonton, it would be less about the gold and more about the archaeological value of the treasure. Such a find could be the makings of a young man’s career.”