The Smithfield Market Romances: A Sweet Regency Romance Boxset

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The Smithfield Market Romances: A Sweet Regency Romance Boxset Page 6

by Rose Pearson


  Miss Blakely had been more open with him than anyone before. She’d told him exactly what she thought of his character, exactly what she saw of his nature, and Andrew had found he could not disagree. There was nothing for him to disagree with since it was all quite correct.

  He was a cruel, selfish, arrogant gentleman and it had never bothered him until the moment Miss Blakely had stepped into his life. Suddenly, he found himself questioning everything he was, everything he thought he enjoyed, everything he thought he lived for, seeing himself in a whole new light. A light that revealed every drop of dirt on his skin, every bit of grime that had seeped into his soul.

  And now, for whatever reason, he had told her about his charge back at the Radford Estate. He could not renege on his promise now, not when he was trying to prove to her that he would no longer pressure her to come to his bed as his mistress.

  Letting out another loud groan, Andrew threw himself out of his chair and hurried towards the decanter, pouring himself a large glass of brandy which he swallowed in five large gulps. Pouring another – a smaller one this time – he made his way back towards the fire and looked into it, feeling the heat flicker across his face.

  There was no thought of going to his bedchamber. He had too much to ponder, too much to consider, before his mind would let him rest. The shame he felt was agony, burning into his skin and branding him a rogue, a rascal, a scoundrel, a rake. He was not respectable or worthy of honor, and yet it was given to him regardless simply because of his title and status. Over the course of his life, he had simply come to expect such things, having never once considered how he treated those around him.

  Setting his glass down on the mantlepiece, Andrew squeezed his eyes closed as his head began to thump painfully. He would not sleep tonight, not when there was so much to consider. One thing was for certain, however. He would emerge in the morning a different man than the one who stood here now and perhaps, despite the pain, that would turn out to be a good thing.

  7

  One week later and still Lord Radford had not sent for her. In fact, Elsbeth had barely seen him. He was not often at home, although she had heard the footmen comment that the master had not gone to his usual haunts either – not that she knew what they were.

  She thought back to that night as she tidied away the slate and the chalk from Miss Sarah’s lesson, which had gone rather more smoothly than she had thought it would. Lord Radford had appeared to be tormented by what she’d said, but she had no idea how many of his words had been genuine. That being said, he had not appeared at her door or demanded that they meet to converse in order to try and convince her to give up her life as a governess. In fact, even though he had promised to speak to her again, he had not sent for her in the last week.

  Elsbeth hated how much she thought of Lord Radford, even though she told herself it was simply because she wished to see whether or not Lord Radford had been honest in what he’d said. She still could not get the picture of him sitting with his head in his hands out of her mind. At one point, when he had dragged his gaze to hers, she had been sure that there had been tears in his eyes, but she had dismissed that thought almost at once, quite certain that he had been playing with her emotions.

  But now, as the days had passed, she had become less and less certain of such a thing.

  “That Miss Sarah’s having her luncheon.”

  Turning around, Elsbeth smiled at the nurse, Mrs. Simpson, who had come back into the schoolroom to help Elsbeth tidy up. “I thought she did very well today.”

  “Yes, she did,” Elsbeth agreed, thinking how the little girl had surpassed Elsbeth’s expectations. “She seems to remember what she’s already learned with a great deal of accuracy.”

  “Shame her parents are coming back sooner than they’d planned,” the nurse murmured, shaking her head. “Only a fortnight and they’ll be back to claim her.”

  Elsbeth froze, her hand on the chalk. “Oh?”

  The nurse chuckled. “Don’t you look so concerned. I know that Lord Radford had already made arrangements for you. You’ll have a job to go to.”

  Shaking her head, Elsbeth stood up straight. “I don’t think that’s true, Mrs. Simpson.”

  “Of course, it is!” the older lady exclaimed with a laugh. “I’ve been given permission to talk to you about the girl since I’m the one who took care of her for Lord Radford in the first place.”

  Sitting down slowly, Elsbeth’s stomach began to churn as she looked into the smiling face of Mrs. Simpson. “So, it is true,” she murmured, half to herself. Lord Radford had said something about having another charge for her to care for, but she’d never truly believed him.

  “Course it’s true,” Mrs. Simpson chuckled. “I’m sure you’ve heard all the rumors going about the place, but the truth is that Lord Radford is taking care of this young thing for his own good reasons. Reasons I can’t explain.”

  Shaking her head to clear her dizzying thoughts, Elsbeth tried to smile at Mrs. Simpson, trying not to show her confusion. “Might you start at the beginning, Mrs. Simpson? I am not quite sure what you are speaking of.”

  Mrs. Simpson nodded patiently. “Of course. Rumors never help matters, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “I haven’t heard any rumors,” Elsbeth replied, firmly. “I’m the governess, which means the staff isn’t all that keen to talk to me.” That was one of the difficulties of being in her position. She was neither the level of the staff nor of the lord of the house, which meant that, aside from the nurse, she had very few people to talk to.

  “Ah, yes. Of course,” Mrs. Simpson murmured. “Well, I don’t mind telling you that Lord Radford has been doing his utmost to keeping this charge of his as a closely guarded secret but, as it always is with staff, there are plenty of rumors flying about.” She gave a slight shrug. “Not that anyone has the truth, however, which is just as Lord Radford wants it.”

  “The child,” Elsbeth said, a touch impatiently. “Is the knowledge of her presence kept secret due to the fact that it might harm Lord Radford’s reputation in some way? Does he think that he might have less influence with the ladies of the ton if they knew the truth about him?”

  Mrs. Simpson laughed and shook her head. “Not in the least, Miss Blakely! Think of what you know of Lord Radford and tell me, do you truly believe that he will be harmed by such a thing? Or that, even if he was, he would care?”

  The answer was already plain for her to see. “No, of course not,” Elsbeth replied, with a slightly dark look. “I can imagine that he would not care a jot. I suppose then, it must be for the child’s sake.” That too went completely against what she knew of Lord Radford, believing him to be nothing more than a selfish, egotistical gentleman who cared nothing for others – but to her surprise, Mrs. Simpson nodded slowly.

  “It surprised me also, to hear of it, but that is the truth,” she said slowly, seeing Elsbeth’s surprise. “It is more than just the child he is protecting by keeping the knowledge of her presence to himself as much as he can, but in due course, I know that he plans to do all he can for her.”

  “How do you know?” Elsbeth asked, frowning slightly. “I do not understand. I thought you were Miss Sarah’s nurse.”

  “I am,” Mrs. Simpson replied, with a small smile. “But before she came along, I was sent to Lord Radford’s estate, to look after the child until other arrangements could be made. It was only for a short time, you understand, for my duty was to the Lord Radford’s brother and his then expecting wife, but it was a lovely few months. I am sure you will find the girl to be a very sweet child.”

  Elsbeth nodded slowly, her brow furrowing as she thought about what Mrs. Simpson had said. “So I am to be sent to the Radford Estate to care for this child instead of Miss Sarah,” she said quietly, her eyes still lingering on the smiling face of Mrs. Simpson. “I will be truthful with you and say that when first Lord Radford mentioned it to me, I thought him to be making up the whole scenario.”

  Mrs. Simpson chuckled.
“Which I can well understand, my dear,” she replied, with a broad smile. “Lord Radford is not the best of gentlemen, which I can see you are well aware of. However, I have heard that these last few days have seen him quite out of character, although I do not know why.” She gave Elsbeth a small shrug before getting to her feet. “Perhaps it means that finally he is willing to take on the duties of his title, as he ought,” she finished, shaking her head. “I have often heard his brother complain about Lord Radford’s lack of duty to the title.”

  Elsbeth got to her feet and followed Mrs. Simpson to the door. “Thank you for coming to speak to me about this, Mrs. Simpson,” she said, gratefully. “I have been quite at a loss this last week, not knowing what is to become of me when Miss Sarah returns home. It is a relief to know that I will have somewhere to go instead of being sent back to Smithfield House – should they be willing to accept me back!”

  Mrs. Simpson patted Elsbeth’s hand. “I am glad to have been of service to you, Miss Blakely. I will miss your company, although our acquaintance has been short, and wish you every happiness in your new post.”

  Elsbeth found herself smiling, relieved that she was not to be thrown into Lord Radford’s path to be used as he pleased. She trusted Mrs. Simpson implicitly, which meant that the child did exist and that her role as governess was, in fact, to continue. “Thank you, Mrs. Simpson.”

  Closing the door behind the lady, Elsbeth wandered to the window of the schoolroom, looking out across the small gardens that lay at the back of the townhouse. She had not expected to hear such a thing from Mrs. Simpson, still believing that Lord Radford had made the whole situation up to calm her fears that he would try and claim her as his mistress once his niece had gone home. Now, it seemed, he had been telling her the truth.

  Not that this was cause to trust him completely, for one truth in the midst of a whole muddle of manipulations, coercion and outright impropriety did not make his character any the better in her eyes.

  As she was thinking this, her eyes fell on none other than Lord Radford himself, who appeared to be meandering through the gardens with no purposeful direction. He was moving slowly, his head down and his shoulders slumped. A picture of misery.

  Elsbeth was unable to prevent herself from watching him, finding him to appear very different from the gentleman she had first met. He did not appear to be in a good frame of mind, given the downcast demeanor, and she could not help but wonder what was the matter.

  Shaking her head, Elsbeth tried to turn away from him, tried not to allow her eyes to linger on him any longer but found that she could not help herself. She had so many questions about him, confused as to who Lord Radford really was and whether anything he had said to her about what her words had done to him could truly be trusted.

  Her mind screamed at her to stay away from him, to reject every single word he said, and refuse to believe a single sentiment, and yet her heart could not forget the agony in his eyes when he’d looked at her and confessed that her brutal honesty had torn his heart.

  On top of which, he had not come near her in the last week, dropping his attentions from her completely. She had expected him to send for her almost immediately, so that he might begin to press her again, but instead she had been waiting – and that in itself had unsettled her.

  “Unless he is simply waiting until I begin to believe him,” she muttered to herself, unable to prevent her distrust from rising again. “Only to pounce when I least expect it.”

  To her horror, Lord Radford then looked up at the window where she stood, as if he’d heard her speak. Their eyes met and Elsbeth found herself unable to move, staring down at Lord Radford as he stared up at her. Her cheeks mounted with color, wondering what he must think to see her watching him.

  And then, he beckoned her down.

  She stumbled away from the window at that, her heart quickening in her chest. He had beckoned her, wanting her to come down to him in the gardens, and now she had no choice but to do as he asked.

  But the gardens? A place hidden from the staff, where Lord Radford might be alone? That was not the wisest place for her to go, given that she was still suspicious of his motives.

  And yet, she knew she was obliged to do as he asked. She had already agreed to converse with him whenever he asked it of her, and now he would be waiting for her to attend him. A shudder shook her body as she picked up her shawl and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders. She was afraid.

  Her legs were still shaking by the time she reached the gardens, stepping out through the wide-open doors and looking all around for Lord Radford.

  “Ah, Miss Blakely. I wasn’t sure you would come.”

  She twisted around to see him approaching her from the left, emerging from a pile of bushes which seemed to hide a small path. Her mouth went dry as he came closer, her heart beating frantically.

  “Thank you for doing so,” he continued, when she said nothing. “I am aware that I have not sent for you since our last conversation but, as I believe I said to you at the time, I have had a great deal to think about.”

  She managed a tight smile, still fearful about his intentions. “Yes, I remember, my lord.”

  He frowned, the light fading from his expression. “You do not look particularly at ease, Miss Blakely. Is everything quite all right?”

  Her arms still folded tightly about her chest, Elsbeth nodded jerkily. “Of course.”

  “You have nothing to fear from me any longer, Miss Blakely,” he said softly, still standing a good distance away from her. “I mean to prove to you that I am intent on changing my ways. You have been the impetus I needed to set me on an entirely new path and I confess that I feel indebted to you for that.”

  Swallowing hard, Elsbeth studied Lord Radford’s open expression, seeing no hint of the arrogance she’d expected to see there.

  “You will not believe me straight away, of course, which I quite understand,” he continued, with a small sigh. “But I will prove it to you, if you will allow me the opportunity. I want to ensure that you are well taken care of and that you are able to fulfill your role as you ought, without fear from me or from anyone else. I will no longer be pushing you as I once thought to do, for I realize now that this was quite wrong of me. In fact, I realize that there is a great deal wrong with how I have been living my life these past few years – which I will not go into at this present moment for fear of boring you.” He chuckled, and, to Elsbeth’s surprise, she found her lips curving into a small smile in return.

  “Mrs. Simpson spoke to me of your charge,” she said when he smiled back at her. “I confess that I did not believe her to be real.”

  “She is very real, Miss Blakely,” Lord Radford replied, with another wide grin. “And has everyone in my staff under her command, as I am sure you will soon see. That is, of course, so long as you are still willing to come to my home and be the governess to Miss Amy?”

  “Miss Amy?”

  He nodded. “Did I not tell you? I do apologize. Her name is Amy and she is only a few months older than Miss Sarah.

  “I see,” Elsbeth murmured, her mind beginning to fill with questions over the young girl. “And she is your charge?”

  Lord Radford glanced at her, frowning. “She is not from my loins, if that is what you are thinking, Miss Blakely.”

  Elsbeth felt herself blush as she looked away, wondering how he’d been able to read her thoughts.

  “And yet I can understand why you might think so,” he continued, a little more heavily. “I will not divulge all, but regardless, the child needs a governess. Will you take up the post, Miss Blakely? It would mean a great deal to me if you would.”

  “You are giving me the choice, Lord Radford?” Unable to hide her surprise, Elsbeth stared at the gentleman in front of her, a little unsure as to why he would consider giving her the option to refuse.

  A wry smile touched his lips. “After how badly I have treated you, Miss Blakely, I hardly think it right or fair of me to demand that you do as I ask
. You have every reason to distrust me.”

  “And yet you know that I have very little option but to remain with you,” she said slowly, still doubting him. “Where else could I go?”

  He sighed and looked away. “I would not have you out on the streets even though I know you would do as well as you could there. If you truly do not wish to remain with me and come to the Radford Estate, then I will make sure you have a new position to go to.”

  Her mouth fell open, her breath gone from her as she saw the sincerity in his eyes. This could not have been anything but the truth, she realized, seeing that he was determined to do right by her. There was to be no more of his chasing, no more of his determined advances. He had been telling her the truth, her words had somehow had a profound effect on him.

  And now she had the chance to leave his house and his company forever.

  “I know that Lord and Lady Dalrymple plan to advertise for a suitable governess for their somewhat precocious son, Miss Blakely,” Lord Radford finished, with another small smile. “I am sure you would do very well there.”

  “Might I think about it, Lord Radford?”

  He smiled. “Well, at least that is not an outright refusal to stay in your post. Yes, of course, Miss Blakely. I will gladly give you all the time you require with this.”

  “Miss Sarah is to leave us very soon, I understand,” Elsbeth responded, finding it hard to know how to react to this new Lord Radford, finding him so very different from how he had been with her before. “Might I think over things until then?” She held her breath, seeing the intensity in his gaze as he studied her for a long moment, before finally nodding.

  “But of course, Miss Blakely. That would suit me very well.”

  She nodded, her fingers tightening as she clasped her hands together, suddenly filled with a nervous tension – although she did not say from where it came. Was it because Lord Radford was behaving so very differently to before? Or was it merely because she was close to him and still afraid that he might, somehow, reach for her in a most inappropriate manner?

 

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