When a Duke Loves a Governess
Page 18
“Sensible of her. Respectable ladies aren’t Will’s usual cup of tea.”
Tessa made no mention of the passionate kiss in the gamekeeper’s hut that had been told to her in confidence. “That isn’t all. Apparently, she and Lord Haviland quarreled in the garden after the lecture. Avis said that he stormed out by way of the garden gate.”
Carlin gave a low whistle. “So that explains why he was so tight-lipped yesterday. He threw me out of his house when I asked why no one had seen him depart after the lecture. He must have been protecting Avis’s reputation.”
Tessa found that commendable of Lord Haviland. Perhaps he truly did care for Avis. Yet if Lady Victor were to find out that her companion had been alone with him, there would be an uproar. And the parallel between that situation and Tessa being here with Carlin tonight was uncomfortably obvious.
He was sitting close to her, and more than once she’d caught his gaze dipping to her bosom, as it did now. Being unaccustomed to revealing any flesh, she was surprised by how effective even a modestly cut bodice could be in luring a man’s attention. And by how a mere glance from him could quicken her heartbeat.
She took a bracing sip of wine. “Does this exonerate Lord Haviland, then?”
His gaze snapped back to hers. “Not entirely. Don’t forget, he might have returned later and slipped inside the house before Roebuck locked up.”
“What about the other gentlemen? Have you found out anything yet?”
The duke shrugged. “Little enough. When I tracked down Churchford at his club yesterday, he spent the better part of an hour trying to talk me into letting him finance an expedition to find the pirate’s gold in exchange for a cut of the proceeds. That isn’t something he’d have done if he had the diaries. There wasn’t sufficient time for him to have combed through them and to realize he didn’t already have the treasure map.”
“Perhaps he was attempting to throw you off the scent.”
“Perhaps, although I’m leaning toward a not-guilty verdict for him.”
Picking up the decanter, Carlin offered to refill her glass, but Tessa shook her head. She was giddy enough in his presence. When he leaned back and propped his feet on a leather ottoman, she, too, wiggled into a more comfortable position. She batted away the fleeting thought that it wasn’t appropriate for a governess to slip off her shoes and tuck her feet beneath her skirts. But Carlin didn’t seem to mind, so what did it matter?
“As for John Symonton, I’m less certain,” he continued. “I called on him this morning and we had a long conversation about my travels. He attempted to persuade me to give him the map in the hope that the treasure might include artifacts of value to the Bullock Museum. The best I can say is that he’s dedicated to his studies to the point of obsession, and that such a passion could lead a man to rationalize a crime as being for the good of science.”
Tessa pondered that for a moment. “A reasonable conclusion. Yet there must be other possibilities, too. Have you been investigating anyone else?”
His face sobered. “As a matter of fact, yes.”
That grave expression made her uneasy. Perhaps it was a family member like his cousin, Edgar, who also had attended the lecture. As the moment of silence stretched out, she ventured to ask, “Won’t you tell me who?”
“Indeed. I was investigating you, my dear.”
Chapter 14
Guy watched the play of emotions across her lovely features. In the firelight, Tessa looked startled at first, then worried and watchful. She sat very still, her expressive blue eyes vigilant on him. He wanted to take her in his arms and calm her fears, but given the intensity of his desire for her, he knew that would only lead to trouble.
More trouble than he could afford.
From the moment she’d stepped into the study, he had been captivated by her presence. Her insightful conversation and astute observations had further drawn him under her spell. He felt perfectly at ease in her company and knew she felt the same with him, judging by her unconventional way of curling her stocking feet beneath her. Yet now her delightful warmth of manner had gone underground, and it was evident that she believed him to be repelled by what he’d found out.
If only she knew, his visit to St. George’s Home for Girls had stirred an entirely different reaction in him.
Upon stepping out of his carriage at the orphanage, Guy had been greeted by the unpleasant sight of a vagrant with an empty gin bottle lying in a stupor on the street. The neighborhood in the slums of Seven Dials had been crammed with pawnshops, secondhand warehouses, and rickety tenements. But at least the dingy brick orphanage had showed some signs of careful upkeep. Though the windowpanes were cracked, the glass sparkled, and the front steps were swept clean of debris.
A girl of perhaps twelve in a starched white apron answered his knock. She stared openmouthed at Guy, and upon learning his identity, left him in a cramped office and scampered off to fetch the matron. Glancing around, he saw that the piles of papers on the desk looked tidy and an attempt had been made to beautify the place with a few scraggly flowers stuck in a chipped blue vase. The air held the acrid scent of a cleaning solution, and he could hear girlish voices reciting their alphabet somewhere down the corridor.
The gaunt, middle-aged dame in black bombazine who hurried into the office introduced herself as Mrs. Plunkett. She dipped a curtsy and afforded him a look of more restrained curiosity than the girl’s. “How may I be of assistance, Your Grace?”
“I’m seeking information on a Tessa James who once lived here.”
Mrs. Plunkett obligingly removed a battered ledger from a shelf, searched the records, and found confirmation that matched the dates he provided her. “Departed here at age fourteen, eh? Why, we never let ’em go until sixteen, when they’re better prepared to deal with the harsh world out there.” Her mouth formed a thin line. “But then, ’twas before my time, milord. The last administrator had to be cast out for mistreating the girls.”
“What do you mean?”
“She used the orphans to pad her own pockets, that’s what.”
Mrs. Plunkett revealed a number of disturbing facts, then took him on a tour of the house, from top to bottom, where he saw for himself that the girls looked happy and industrious at their studies. They were garbed in clean though patched clothing, and it was painfully obvious from the stark surroundings that funding was scarce.
“You mustn’t think ill of us, Your Grace. That bad apple is long gone, thank the Almighty. We take good care of our dear orphans now, and their schooling is of the utmost importance. Of course, there are always books and chalk and slates to purchase, but I do my best on what little we have.”
Guy hadn’t needed that hint to empty his pockets, giving Mrs. Plunkett a handful of gold guineas and promising to dispatch additional moneys in the future. Her effusive thanks had stirred only shame in him for having neglected charitable works until now. Although he’d always been aware of the poor, it had struck him deeply to actually witness children suffer such scarcity when his own daughter lived in the lap of luxury.
Now, seeing Tessa’s anxious expression, he felt a powerful wish to erase all her bad memories of growing up in that place. “As you will have guessed,” he said, “I visited St. George’s, and you’ll be happy to hear that it’s under new directorship. It is no longer a workhouse where the girls are forced to stitch clothing from dawn until dusk. Now it is a proper school.”
Hopeful disbelief lit her face. “Truly?”
“I saw the children in their classrooms myself.” Mindful of how she would react to the rest of what must be said, Guy softened his voice. “I also saw the records book. Your name was in there, Tessa, with the notation that you had run away to escape an apprenticeship.”
She blinked, then glanced toward the fire. “Yes.”
Seeing that she needed a nudge, he went on, “You might also be interested to learn that the previous matron was arrested five years ago. She was convicted of peddling the older girls for nefar
ious purposes.”
Her stark gaze flashed to his. “Good!” she said fiercely. “I sent an anonymous letter of complaint to Bow Street as soon as-as I was able. I hope Mrs. Cobb is rotting in prison. Hanging is too quick for the likes of her.”
“I wholeheartedly agree. Will you tell me what happened to you?”
She regarded him with haunted eyes, then lowered her gaze to her lap. “After Mama’s death, I was taken there at the age of six. Though St. George’s was called a foundling home, it was really a workhouse where we sewed cheap clothing. In time, it became my job to train the younger girls, to make sure they met their daily quotas while I also completed my own. The worst part was trying to keep their spirits up when they were sad or exhausted.” She looked at him again. “Even the little ones, girls no older than Sophy, had to sort threads and fold clothes. They should have been in school or playing with friends.”
At the anguish in her voice, he reached out to clasp her hand. It felt small and delicate in his, and for the first time, he noticed the slight calluses on her fingers from years of hard work. Now he could understand better why she had succeeded with Sophy where others had failed. Tessa’s affinity for children was deeply rooted in the sufferings of her past.
Not wanting to distract her, he reluctantly drew back. “And then?”
“When I was fourteen, Mrs. Cobb informed me that I was to be apprenticed to a modiste, a dressmaker. Though I disliked leaving the other girls, especially the little ones who needed me, I was happy for the chance to escape the drudgery, to work with pretty fabrics instead of coarse fustian, and so I went willingly enough. But she took me to a house on the pretext of needing to speak to the landlord. And…” Shuddering, Tessa stopped.
A frustrated anger gnawed at him. If only he could have been there to rescue her! Although Guy burned to know the full story, he said gruffly, “If it’s too painful, you needn’t go on.”
“You might as well hear the rest,” she said in a subdued tone. “I-I glanced into the parlor and saw several gents who were … fondling women in scanty garb. Mrs. Cobb was gripping my collar while she haggled with the procuress. That’s when it struck me that … I was being sold. This was the apprenticeship, and I would be forced to behave like those women. When Mrs. Cobb let go of me to take her cash payment, I seized my chance to run. There was a big bruiser guarding the door, but I managed to duck past him.” Tessa drew a shaky breath. “Looking back, I can scarcely believe my luck in getting away. For several days I applied to dressmakers but could find no work until Madame Blanchet hired me at the millinery.”
For next to nothing, no doubt. Guy clenched his jaw and imagined her as a frightened young girl wandering London alone, sleeping in alleys and scrounging for food in rubbish bins. But even that was not as horrifying as the fate that he’d feared had befallen her at the brothel.
With the weight of that worry gone, he felt a portion of his tension dissipate. “It is by the grace of God that you’re here now, and safe.”
Despite his fervent words, Tessa stared forlornly into her empty wineglass. “I felt so … so stupid, though. Other girls had been taken away for apprenticeships, you see, and I had thought nothing of it. I’d envied them, in fact. I’d never once realized what had really become of them.”
“Of course you didn’t,” he said, his voice rough with feeling. “You were a child of fourteen, confined to a workhouse. What could you have known of such matters?”
She gave him a sad little smile, then set down her glass. “Well, Carlin. Now you have discovered the full extent of my fraud. I’m a baseborn hatmaker who barely escaped being sold as a lightskirt. Wouldn’t it set society on its ears if they knew you’d hired a governess with such a disreputable background and no formal schooling at all?”
He disliked hearing Tessa denigrate herself. “Devil take them. As you delight in pointing out, you’ve dealt with Sophy far better than anyone else. Whatever knowledge you lack can be studied and acquired. By the way, how did you learn to read?”
“Mama had taught me my alphabet and a few simple words. Once I left St. George’s, I was determined to educate myself. I read whatever I could find, from fashion journals to hymnals to penny novels.”
“Then your abilities are all the more noteworthy. I’ve met many a lady with every advantage of education who had nary an intelligent thought rattling inside her head.”
Tessa raised her chin. There was a desolate quality to her expression that reached into his heart. “Oh, pray don’t be so gentlemanly, Carlin. It really isn’t necessary. If you intend to dismiss me, I wish you would just do it.”
“Dismiss you?” he said blankly.
“Yes, you said yesterday morning that you needed time to consider if I might stay in your employ. After what you’ve discovered, there surely can be only one course of action. Isn’t that why you summoned me here?”
“Frankly, no. It was any number of things. The heraldry book, the Norwoods, and yes, the orphanage, but only to find out what had happened to you there.” When she still looked unconvinced, Guy brought the back of her hand to his lips for an ardent kiss. Rashly, he added, “I also simply wanted to see you, Tessa. Two days was too long to be separated from you. I crave your company, more than that of anyone else of my acquaintance.”
A glow flickered to life in her eyes and softened her face. All the anxiety melted away as a tremulous smile hovered on her lips. Her bosom rose and fell with several ragged breaths. “Carlin.”
She flung her arms around him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He was instantly bewitched by her lush breasts and hourglass curves. Holding her close, he rubbed his cheek against her hair and savored her spellbinding scent. Everything about her supple form was soft and feminine, yet he very much liked that her inner spirit was strong and resilient, too. An unwavering warmth of sentiment held sway over him. He didn’t care to examine the feeling too closely; he knew only that no other woman had ever affected him as profoundly as Tessa. His fingers were actually trembling as he brushed back a lock of silky blond hair and tipped up her chin.
He settled his mouth over hers and kissed her long and deep. The wild beating of his blood banished all wisdom to the farthest reaches of his mind. She tasted of wine and desire, a potent combination made more powerful because she was Tessa. He had been burning for her ever since that scorching encounter in the library. No, long before that. He’d been lost since she had first walked into his study more than a fortnight ago, with a jaunty chip-straw bonnet framing the finely etched cameo of her face, all pert manners and sapphire eyes, charming her way into his heart.
Yet he oughtn’t be feverishly wondering how he could smuggle her upstairs to his bed to spend the night in a heaven of heated lovemaking. Now more than ever, Tessa must be forbidden fruit. Intimacy would lead to disastrous consequences for everyone—Tessa, Sophy, his family, himself.
He simply could not indulge in an affair with his daughter’s governess.
With the utmost regret, he broke off the kiss and pulled air into his lungs in an effort to clear his passion-fogged mind. Then he disentangled himself from her arms. “Tessa … we can’t do this.”
“Mm.” She nuzzled his throat. “But I like kissing you, Carlin. Don’t you like kissing me?”
The tickle of her warm breath on his skin sent a bolt of temptation straight down to his loins. “I like it entirely too much. That’s why you’re returning to the nursery right now.”
By a forceful application of willpower, Guy sprang up from the chaise, then offered his hand to assist her to her feet. The moment she stood upright, however, Tessa swayed against him, her fingers clutching at his shirt. An infectious giggle tumbled from her lips as she looked up at him with dancing eyes. “Oh, dear. My foot must have fallen asleep.”
At her giddy smile, he fought back a grin. “Tessa, surely you can’t be bosky from one glass of wine.”
She shook her head in vehement denial. “Oh, no, I feel perfectly fine. Though the wine was deliciou
s, by the way. Might I have more, please? There’s really no need for me to go just yet.”
Guy wrapped his arms around her slender form to stop her from reaching down to the table for her glass. “Not another drop.”
Keeping Tessa glued to his side, he guided her to the partially open door of the study. He must ensure she made her way back upstairs without being seen. It had been unpardonably reckless of him to have engaged in that steamy embrace when anyone might have walked in.
“Oh, no! It seems Cinderella has lost her slippers.” Tessa twirled away from him and lifted the hem of her gown to allow a provocative view of slim ankles and toes clad in only white stockings. In the doing, she bumped into the door, shutting it with a click. “Perhaps you’d be so kind as to walk me back over to the chaise. I must don my magic slippers before the clock strikes twelve. Otherwise, you might turn into a frog.”
Guy was so much taken with this flirtatious side of her that they were halfway across the study again before he realized he ought to have just fetched the shoes for her. “I believe you’re mixing your fairy tales.”
She tapped a finger to her cheek. “That may be so since they’re all new to me,” she said. “I’ve read any number of wonderful stories to Sophy these past few weeks. Did you know that in Mother Goose’s Tales, there are children who live in a shoe?”
As Tessa seated herself, he knelt before her and picked up one of her plain leather slippers, so much more practical than a lady’s satin heels. “I daresay it was a bigger shoe than this one.”
“Perhaps like the ones worn by the giants in Gulliver’s Travels. Have I thanked you for sending that book up to the nursery?”
“I’m pleased to hear you enjoyed it.”
Those inadequate words couldn’t begin to describe how much Guy wanted to give her all the books that she hungered to read, all the knowledge that she had been denied, all the experiences that a woman of her keen intellect craved to learn. Though he knew it wasn’t his place to provide a governess with an education, his desire to do so persisted nonetheless, especially after what he’d learned about her today.