‘I have my reputation to consider, my lord.’ And Red would be furious with her if he ever found out. Not that he really had a say in the matter, but she hated to upset him.
The biggest problem was her assignation with the blackmailer. She must not miss that.
‘Then I must thank you, Lady Marguerite, for agreeing to help me. Knowing you will care for my girls, as I would myself, is a great weight off my mind. Also...’
What would he ask of her next? She found herself curious, to say the least.
‘Once I have the applications for the position of governess, I wonder if you would be good enough to assist me in making the selection?’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘You mean you trust the judgement of a woman in this regard?’
He frowned. ‘Not just any woman, Lady Marguerite. But I do trust yours, I believe. At the very least, we can review them together. I will, of course, make the final decision.’
‘And I, sir, will do my best to ensure you make the right one.’
He laughed.
It was the first time she had heard him laugh. It was a deep, dark, warm sound that seemed to start a fire low in her belly.
Excitement bubbled in her veins. Reason told her that taking this position was not one of her best ideas. Red would not like it. Her sisters would be concerned, but she felt...happy. Happier than she had in years.
It must be the luxurious surroundings which she would enjoy to the full for the next several weeks and the thought of finally being free of the consequences of her youthful folly.
She rose to her feet and dipped a little curtsy. ‘If you will excuse me, my lord, I will go and impart the news to my charges.’
He rose and bowed. ‘If you would be so good as to send Nanny James to see me.’ He grimaced slightly. ‘Perhaps you could assure her that nothing bad is to happen. That she is not to be summarily dismissed and so on.’
The man had a kind heart, despite his gruffness and his rules. ‘I will indeed. You may expect to see her in half an hour.’
‘Thank you.’
Marguerite made her escape. Outside the study door, she halted and put her hands to her stomach, which was fluttering wildly. What had she done? Was he the reason—that smile, that endearing way he had of taking her by surprise with his kindness—that had caused her to agree to his proposal?
Certainly not. Yes, he was an attractive man. A woman would have to be blind not to see it, or dead. And she was neither. But she had taken the position for the children’s sake. To ensure that his rules did not ruin their lives as Neville’s rules had ruined hers. As well as to finally be free of the legacy of Neville’s persecution—her blackmailer. That was all it was.
But the thought of spending time with the handsome Lord Compton had made the decision easier than it should have been. Smiling to herself, she took a deep breath and hurried upstairs.
Chapter Eight
Two days later, Marguerite had the girls’ lessons organised and a daily routine established. With Mrs York’s help, appropriate menus had been set up with Cook. Lucy had turned out to be a wonderful help to Nanny. The old lady liked the young woman and quickly allowed her to take over most of the work. Once she realised Lord Compton was going to pay her a generous pension which would allow her to live out her days in comfort, she had readily agreed to remain only as long as it took the children to become accustomed to her departure.
At the end of a long morning, during which Marguerite had worked on the formation of the letter f with the girls, she glanced out of the window. If only it would stop raining, she could put one of Lord Compton’s rules to the test: his willingness to allow the girls to spend an afternoon out of doors. She also needed to find one last plant in order to finish the set of drawings she was working on. Provided they remained within the boundaries he had set, their walk might as well do double duty.
Unfortunately, the skies had been grey for days. If it didn’t clear up soon she would have to seek her specimen in the rain. Why was she so hesitant? She and her siblings had never let a bit of rain stop them from tramping around the countryside, should they feel in the mood. Besides, they would not be going far. The rule demanded that they stay within sight of the house at all times.
Fortunately, primroses were easy to find. They grew in every hedgerow and ditch at this time of year. She was sure to find one or two at the edge of the woods that had been strategically planted to frame the lawns that surrounded the house.
She left the schoolroom and joined the children in the nursery, where they were waiting for lunch to be served. Their faces were bright and shining and their hands were scrubbed clean. Netty was also at the table seated on a pile of books, her purple eye startling against her pale skin. She was looking very proud of herself.
‘I hope you don’t mind, my lady,’ Lucy said clearly, seeing Marguerite’s look of surprise. ‘She is old enough to sit at the table.’
At nearly three, she was definitely old enough. Marguerite had been thinking of her as a baby, because that was how Nanny had been treating her and no one had noticed she was ready to join her sisters in some of their activities.
She smiled at the little girl, who beamed back. ‘Bread?’ she said.
‘Say please,’ Lucy answered.
Yes, Lucy was going to be perfect in the nursery and had been thrilled to be asked. ‘I am going to take Lizzie and Jane out for a walk, this afternoon,’ she said. ‘Please have them ready after luncheon. I will let the butler know that we will need two of his footmen.’
‘It is raining, Lady Marguerite,’ Lizzie said.
‘I know,’ Marguerite said. ‘Won’t that be fun?’
The two girls gazed at her open-mouthed.
Lucy passed around the soup. ‘Eat up, my ladies. If you are going outside, you need to eat hearty. You watch how Lady Marguerite does it and you will know how to go on.’
The girl was an absolute treasure and Marguerite noticed that Lucy, too, was watching to see how it was done.
Marguerite tried not to smile as she picked up her spoon. She delicately scooped up a spoonful and sipped at it.
The two older girls followed suit. They had clearly done this before. Netty made a wobbly attempt and managed to spill a good deal of it on her bib.
‘Well done, girls,’ Marguerite said, as Lucy mopped Netty’s face and chin. ‘The more you practise the easier it will get.’
They were almost finished when the door opened and Lord Compton walked in. His hair was plastered to his head and his face was ruddy as if he had been out in the wind. ‘Good afternoon, ladies.’ He bowed.
‘Good afternoon, Papa,’ the girls chorused, while Marguerite and Lucy added their greetings.
‘That soup looks good enough to eat,’ he said.
The older girls giggled. Netty patted the last of the soup in her dish with her spoon and it splashed everywhere. ‘Soup. Good,’ she said.
More laughter. Compton took the cloth from Lucy, crouched down beside Netty and swiped at the mess. ‘You are supposed to eat it, not throw it about, young lady,’ he said, but he was grinning and he dropped a little kiss on the top of Netty’s head when he was done cleaning up.
He looked happier than she had ever seen him. A glow spread outwards from her chest. This man truly loved these girls. It seemed there was hope for them yet.
Inwardly she winced. Now she needed to give him her decision about this afternoon. ‘After lunch Lizzie, Janey and I are going for a walk. Would you care to join us?’
He frowned. ‘It is raining.’
‘Not hard enough to keep you indoors. The girls will be properly attired.’
The joy in his face disappeared. ‘I do not think—’
She tilted her head in enquiry and as a reminder of their agreement that she was responsible for the girls’ education.
‘I have other plans for this a
fternoon,’ he said stiffly, rising to his feet. ‘An appointment with my bailiff.’
‘Then I would be grateful if you would arrange for the two footmen to accompany us. At two of the clock.’
He grimaced. ‘Indeed.’ He bowed and left.
Marguerite felt terrible. He clearly was not happy about her plan. For a moment, she toyed with the idea of cancelling the outing. But that would be giving in to his unspoken pressure, the way she had always given in to Neville. She’d let him bully her out of fear of what he might do in reprisal. She was not going to let Lord Compton bully her, too. She was not afraid of him and there was absolutely no good reason why the girls should not go outside for an hour this afternoon. Indeed, it would do them good.
Leaving Lucy in charge, she went back to her suite of rooms. It had been agreed that the time between one and two was hers and she liked to retire here with a fortifying cup of tea. At three, her responsibilities for the girls was over for the day and she was free to work on her drawings.
It was an excellent arrangement for all of them. Little minds could only cope with a certain volume of information and instruction before they became restless and unhappy. And she needed time away from their endless questions and need for assistance.
Had she had such an arrangement when her siblings were also her charges, she might not have become so opposed to children of her own.
Though with the way Neville was with her, she would never have changed her mind.
* * *
The task of finding primroses had not gone as smoothly as she had hoped it would, despite the fact that it had stopped raining a short while after they had gone outside. The footmen had obviously been given very explicit instructions by Lord Compton and they were determined that she and the girls would not go off the lawn at the back of the house. They certainly were not going to let them take one step into the woods.
Exasperated, Marguerite had decided after half an hour of being blocked from her intended destination to return indoors. Lizzie, who had been running ahead and thoroughly enjoying herself, suddenly stopped. Marguerite frowned.
‘There is a ditch here,’ Lizzie called out.
Oh, great heavens above. The little girl was standing at the edge of a ha-ha. A straight drop into a ditch in the middle of what looked like one long stretch of lawn. Marguerite hadn’t known it was there. Like most country houses, the feature had been designed to be invisible from a casual glance so as not to interrupt the view.
‘Come back from the edge,’ she called to Lizzie as she hurried closer. Lizzie skipped back towards her.
Marguerite closed her eyes briefly. The little girl could have run right over the top. ‘Hold my hands, girls, and we will take a closer look.’ They quickly obliged.
The feel of little hands clinging to her gloved hands was like a memory from the past. She had walked like this with Petra and Jonathan, until Jonathan had preferred to spend his time with his older brother. She recalled how she had missed him once he’d deemed himself too old to spend time with his sisters. She’d been hurt by it.
She gazed down at the two girls. Oh, heavens, she was going to miss them, too, when it was time for her to leave. She really ought not to let herself get too fond of them. If she did, it would make parting with them so much harder. When they reached the edge of the ha-ha, she peered over the top, making sure she had a firm grip on their hands as they, too, looked over.
‘Why is there a cliff in the middle of the grass?’ Lizzie asked.
‘It is called a ha-ha,’ Marguerite said. ‘It stops cattle and deer from coming too close to the house and eating the shrubs and plants in the garden.’
‘Is that a primrose?’ Janey asked, pointing.
‘What sharp eyes you have,’ Marguerite said. ‘It is indeed.’
‘And there is another,’ Lizzie said.
‘Good spotting,’ Marguerite said. ‘Now, how to get them?’
‘Ask Alfred,’ Lizzie said, pointing at one of the lingering footmen. The young man who had been so helpful the night Netty fell.
She called him over and explained what she wanted, then handed him her trowel. He trotted off to a spot where he could pass around the end of the ditch and come back to where they were standing.
‘The yellow flower there,’ Marguerite said. ‘Please dig around it so you can get all the roots.’
Fortunately, the rain made it easy to dig up the plant and Alfred was soon back with his prize. He looked at the plant and then at Marguerite. ‘It is a mite muddy, my lady. It were better I carried it, since I am already dirty.’
The other footman smirked, clearly glad he was not the one who had been asked to grub around in the soil. ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘Thank you. I think we will return to the house now.’
Alfred looked relieved. ‘Yes, my lady.’
‘That was fun,’ Janey said.
‘Can we do it again tomorrow?’ Lizzie asked.
‘We will be going outside every day,’ Marguerite said firmly. But she was going to have to talk to His Lordship about the rules he had given his footmen.
The man was impossible.
* * *
Jack watched Lady Marguerite and his daughters return from their walk from his bedroom window. Lizzie was running ahead a little way and then running back to her sister and Lady Marguerite. At any moment, Jack expected her to take a tumble. He would have to add the requirement that she walk, not run, to his list of rules. As well as confining them to the formal gardens.
He’d almost leapt from the window when he saw Lizzie running towards the ha-ha. His heart had been in his throat. He’d opened the window to call out to her, but she had stopped and, clearly realising the danger, Lady Marguerite had held their hands before approaching the deadly drop.
Damn it all, he’d said she could go for a walk and he hadn’t given a thought to the danger in the middle of the lawn.
All right, so he had come up here to keep an eye on them on their first walk when he should have been out visiting one of his tenants who was concerned about the water rising in the river near his house.
He’d also been fascinated by the sight of his footman digging up some sort of plant in the ditch below the wall while the ladies looked on. He strode downstairs to meet them in the entrance hall.
‘Papa,’ Janey said upon spying him. She held up her arms and he lifted her up. Her coat felt a little damp.
‘What have you ladies been about?’ He certainly wasn’t going to tell them he’d been watching their every move.
‘We went for a walk,’ Lizzie said. ‘And we found a primrose in a ditch.’
He smiled at his eldest daughter. ‘Excellent.’
‘Janey saw it first,’ she said. ‘She has sharp eyes.’ She looked really puzzled.
He laughed. ‘It means she is good at seeing small things.’
‘Oh, like when Nanny lost her needle on the floor and Janey found it.’
He tried not to grimace at the thought of needles with sharp points. ‘Yes. Like that.’
‘I gather your outing was productive,’ he said, looking at Lady Marguerite.
‘It was,’ she said, but she sounded less than happy.
Well, that made two of them. ‘Run along to the nursery, ladies,’ he said, putting his daughter down. ‘Lucy will have some dry clothes for you and a nice warm fire.’
Lizzie frowned. ‘I’m not cold, Papa. I’m hot.’
A breath caught in his throat. Her face was a little flushed. He felt her forehead.
‘She is hot from running,’ Lady Marguerite said.
All very well for her to say. How did she know it would not turn into a fever? ‘I would like a word with you in my study.’
He thought he had spoken pleasantly enough, but when she stiffened he could see how she might interpret his request as an order. ‘If you have time,’ he added.<
br />
She stripped off her gloves and removed her bonnet, handing it to the butler. ‘Actually, your request is most timely. I have matters I wish to discuss with you.’
He led the way and, once she was seated in front of his desk, he rang for tea. A tendril of hair had escaped from her pins and become glued to her cheek. He wanted to set it free. He wanted to set her whole glorious mane free to riot about her shoulders. He wanted to spear his fingers through those riotous waves, had wanted to since the moment he had seen them in all their glory when he had visited her cottage.
He became aware of her quizzical expression. The awareness in her green gaze. She was breathing faster than usual, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. She was as interested in him as he was in her. Nonsense. He had not been interested in a woman since his wife died. Why, he had barely laid her to rest... He closed his eyes briefly. Two years. She had been gone two years. Perhaps he had grieved long enough.
Surely, he wasn’t planning to have an affair with his daughters’ governess? Temporary governess, remember. A widow. His blood heated. His body stirred to life. Devil take it, what was he thinking?
‘I will have a fence built along the ha-ha,’ he bit out.
She frowned. ‘Were you watching us?’
‘I happened to glance out of the window.’
‘You were spying.’ There was an odd note in her voice. Not merely annoyance but a note of...fear? ‘If you do not trust me...’
‘It is not a matter of trust. I merely wanted to see how the girls enjoyed their walk. However, now we are having this conversation, I do think it better if you would confine your perambulations to the formal gardens, where there are no steep drops and help is near to hand should it be required.’
‘Tomorrow, I will be taking the girls into the woods so they can learn about different kinds of trees. I want them to draw the different patterns of bark.’
He blinked. She didn’t seem to have heard a word he had said. ‘No woods. It is one of the rules.’
‘A rule we are going to change. Nor are the footmen to be given instructions to prevent us from wandering where we will. They are there to guard us, and I accept this, but they are not there to control our every step.’
A Family for the Widowed Governess Page 10