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More Than a Governess

Page 19

by Sarah Mallory


  ‘Someone is coming.’ Disappointment washed through her as she heard the approaching footsteps. He kissed her again, quickly. ‘I am thwarted at every turn.’ He stepped away from her just as Sir Richard appeared from a side path. ‘Rick, are you looking for me?’

  ‘Aye. Plumstead tells me Lady Ormiston has arrived.’

  ‘Yes, alone, too,’ said the Major. ‘It is too much of a coincidence. Do you think Leeson has contacted her?’ He observed Sir Richard’s hesitation and continued bluntly, ‘You need not mind Miss Wrenn, she knows as much of this affair as anyone, including the fact that Leeson and Lady Ormiston were lovers.’

  ‘Very well, then. I believe she plans to succeed where Leeson failed.’

  Juliana gasped. ‘The children!’

  ‘They have Nurse and Matthew, one of my footmen, looking after them at the moment,’ said Damon. ‘I made sure of it before I came out here.’

  ‘Good, but I do not believe they are in any immediate danger,’ mused Sir Richard. ‘It is more likely that Leeson snatched the child as a way to manipulate Damon.’ He looked at the Major. ‘What could he hope to gain from that?’

  Damon frowned. ‘Do you think I haven’t considered that, Rick? I have no influence at Court, no state secrets to hand over. Good God, I do not even have a fortune to tempt him.’

  They began to stroll along the path, Sir Richard swinging his quizzing glass gently to and fro on its black ribbon.

  ‘Then if you will let her remain here as your guest, Damon, we must watch and wait for Veronique to make her play. You look troubled, Miss Wrenn. What is on your mind?’

  Juliana felt the colour rising to her cheeks.

  ‘Come, Ju,’ said the Major roughly. ‘What is it?’

  ‘You—you say you will wait for Lady Ormiston to make her play, but what if it is for…for—’ She broke off, blushing furiously.

  ‘You think she might try to seduce me?’ The Major laughed. ‘I am not a man to be caught twice by that trick. However, you are very right to remind us of the proprieties, Miss Wrenn. You had best go off and change your dress, Giles has sent word that he is dining with Fewell’s brother in Burnley—and will be talking of engines all night, I have no doubt! We need you to make a fourth at dinner.’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Juliana dressed with care, not with the intention of pleasing the gentlemen, but more in the spirit of going into battle. She rejected her new cream gown in favour of the grey silk, which showed no signs of the tea Gwendoline had spilled over it, and the rustle of the skirts gave her confidence as she made her way to the drawing room. She found Major Collingham there alone, and stood, hesitating, at the door.

  ‘Come in, Miss Wrenn. Our guests have not yet left their rooms.’ He came forward and said, as the butler closed the door and left them alone together, ‘You look nervous. There is no need, I am sure you have not forgotten the social graces required at the dinner table.’

  ‘No, sir, but—’

  He continued as if she had not spoken.

  ‘As my hostess, I expect you to take your place opposite me, at the foot of the table.’

  ‘Oh no, surely—’

  ‘It is essential.’ He stood before her and ran one finger down her cheek. Even that light touch made the blood sizzle in her veins. ‘If I have you any closer to me, I shall not be able to keep my hands off you.’

  That treacherous finger moved past her chin and began to trail down her neck. She reached up to clasp his hand in both her own.

  ‘Oh, please don’t say such things to me. How can I remain calm when you treat me thus?’

  His blazing look turned her insides to water and she closed her eyes, fighting to maintain her composure. How could she doubt that he loved her? She heard him laugh softly.

  ‘You are quite right, Miss Wrenn. We must observe the proprieties this evening, must we not?’ He gently withdrew his hand from her grasp and stepped away from her. It was not a moment too soon, for the door opened and Plumstead ushered Lady Ormiston into the room.

  Juliana sank down on to one of the straw-coloured sofas and began to fan herself gently, as much to disguise her shaking fingers as to cool her cheeks.

  Lady Ormiston immediately crossed the room to Major Collingham. ‘Forgive me for keeping you waiting, Damon.’

  He kissed her fingers. ‘You did not, ma’am. We still await Sir Richard.’

  She did not look too pleased with this answer, but her smile widened and she turned to look about the room.

  ‘Well, this is to be a cosy little dinner, is it not?’ She appeared to notice Juliana for the first time. ‘Oh, is it the custom for the governess to dine with you, Damon?’

  The Major replied easily, ‘Miss Wrenn has agreed to act as my hostess while you are here, Veronique.’

  Lady Ormiston’s silvery laugh rang out. ‘But, Damon, you and I do not need a chaperon, I am a married woman!’

  ‘All the more reason not to give Ormiston cause for suspicion. And while I think of it, Veronique, how long are you planning to stay? Thursday is the day of the Burnley fair, you see. It is a tradition at Blackthorpe that the staff are given a half-day’s holiday. That is the day after tomorrow. There will be nothing but a cold luncheon for us and we take pot luck with our dinner when Cook returns. For the afternoon we will be left to our own devices.’

  She gave him a roguish look. ‘Oh, I am sure we shall contrive to amuse ourselves, Damon.’

  ‘I am sure we will.’ Damon looked up as Sir Richard entered. ‘Ah, in good time, Rick.’ He held out his arm to Lady Ormiston. ‘Madam, shall we go in to dinner?’

  ‘Miss Wrenn?’

  Juliana looked up at Sir Richard and relaxed a little when he winked at her.

  ‘My knees are shaking,’ she confessed in a whisper as he escorted her to the dining room. ‘I depend upon you, Sir Richard, to help me through this.’

  When Juliana had left the garden, she had taken a circuitous route through the back rooms to avoid a chance meeting with Lady Ormiston. She had seen the footmen storing the mahogany leaves from the table in their green baize-lined slots in the corridor behind the dining room, so she knew the table had been reduced for what Mrs Plumstead described as a snug little party, yet when she was seated at one end of the table with the Major facing her and their two guests on either side, Juliana was aware of a strong sense of isolation. A dazzling array of silver covered the space between her and the other diners, and the distances seemed vast. Her spirits drooped as she watched Veronique flirting with the gentlemen. She was recounting an amusing anecdote and flashing those huge black eyes towards each man in turn. As the meal progressed, Sir Richard left the Major to entertain the vivacious Frenchwoman and turned instead to talk to Juliana, who responded gratefully, while part of her attention remained fixed on Lady Ormiston. She wondered if she was being too sensitive, but the lady seemed intent on fixing her interest with her host. She was leaning forward, turned slightly towards Damon as he replied to a question, as if she was telling him he was the only man in the room.

  Juliana glanced at Sir Richard, who was calmly eating the lamb fricassee. The occasional glances he cast at his guest were merely amused. Juliana wished she could be so complacent, or that she was close enough to deliver a well-aimed kick at Damon’s shin, since he had designated her as a chaperon for the evening. As it was, she could only curb her frustration and wait for the Major’s sign that the ladies should retire. When it came, she rose solemn-faced from the dining table and led Lady Ormiston from the room.

  ‘Well,’ said Sir Richard, once the ladies had gone, ‘what do you think she wants?’

  Damon watched as Plumstead filled their glasses with brandy, then dismissed him with a gesture.

  ‘Veronique is too clever to let me know that yet,’ he said when they were alone. ‘I believe she is trying to set me at my ease.’

  ‘Have a care, my friend,’ said Sir Richard. ‘She is a fascinating woman.’

  Damon gave a crack of laughter. ‘A l
ovely piece of work, ain’t she?’ He frowned at his glass, then tossed back the brandy, saying in a quite different tone, ‘Miss Wrenn was very quiet at dinner—I depended upon you to look after her, Richard.’

  ‘We talked a little, but in the main we were enjoying the performance you and Lady Ormiston were putting on for us.’

  Damon frowned. Even while Veronique had been flirting so outrageously, a blatant invitation in her eyes, he had been aware of the grave little figure sitting opposite him, picking at her food.

  ‘You may have enjoyed it, my friend, but I am damned sure Miss Wrenn did not.’

  ‘No, you are right.’ Sir Richard reached for the decanter. He gave his host a speculative glance. ‘Taking little thing,’ he said. ‘Of course, in looks she cannot hold a candle to the lovely Veronique.’

  ‘But she has a heart, and I would not see it bruised,’ retorted Damon. ‘I must talk to her. I would to God I had refused to let Veronique stay. I should have sent her away and foiled her little scheme.’

  ‘But then we would never learn what that scheme is, and I am very anxious to find it out.’ He sat back, holding up his glass to study the contents through half-closed eyes. ‘It will do no harm to let her think she is succeeding in charming you—she may let slip just what she wants.’

  Damon frowned. ‘But you think she is involved in something that could have national importance.’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Out with it, Rick.’ Damon refilled their glasses. ‘What is in your mind? Come, my friend, we have known each other too long for secrets, even state ones.’

  ‘Very well. I suspect the lady to be involved with the plot to rescue Bonaparte. You will recall I mentioned it to you in London. Somehow, you and your family have become embroiled in her scheme.’

  ‘Then we must try to find out what it is.’

  ‘Exactly, but I would not ask it if I thought there was any real risk of harm to your family. The fact that Veronique has come here so openly suggests that she means to take what she wants by stealth.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Rick, I will protect my own.’

  Juliana glanced at the clock. The gentlemen had been sitting over their brandy for nearly an hour. She knew such rituals could go on for much longer, but surely if they suspected Veronique of planning mischief they would come in soon. The ladies had made themselves comfortable on the satin sofas that flanked the empty fireplace and engaged in desultory small talk that Juliana found extremely trying. Now a difficult silence had settled over the room.

  ‘Will we see the Major’s delightful children this evening, MissWrenn?’ asked Lady Ormiston at last, when other subjects like the weather and the state of the roads had been exhausted.

  ‘Yes, I believe Major Collingham has requested that they should come down.’

  ‘And what are they like, these little girls—are they in awe of their papa?’ She gave a soft laugh. ‘No doubt he is very strict with them, is he not? He is an army man, after all, and used to order.’

  ‘Naturally he likes the children to behave well.’

  ‘But children like to play and run wild, do they not, Miss Wrenn? No doubt they have much more freedom here, to use up their energies. The moors must be an exciting place for them to roam free.’

  ‘The children are never allowed out of doors unaccompanied,’ said Juliana, choosing her words carefully. ‘Major Collingham is very conscious of the children’s safety.’

  She looked round hopefully when the door opened, but it was not the gentlemen as she had hoped. Nurse stood on the threshold, asking diffidently if the children should come in.

  ‘But of course!’ cried Lady Ormiston, spreading her arms wide to welcome them. ‘Bring them in—ah, little darlings, come here, that I may look at you.’

  Gwendoline and Wilhelmina approached and made their curtsies to their father’s new guest, who gave them her dazzling smile, complimented them on their pretty gowns and asked them how they liked Blackthorpe. Gwendoline made some polite reply, but Minna merely stood beside her sister, staring wide-eyed at their beautiful visitor. Lady Ormiston put her head on one side and smiled at her.

  ‘Little Wilhelmina, you have said nothing—you are not afraid of me, are you? Of course not. And you have your little doll with you—how charming. What is her name?’

  Wilhelmina drew back a little, hugging the doll even closer.

  ‘That’s Sarah,’ offered Gwendoline, adding with the superiority of her twelve years, ‘It is Amy’s doll. Minna couldn’t bring her own doll downstairs because her arm came off and Thomas is mending her. She wouldn’t come downstairs without a doll. She takes one everywhere.’

  ‘Everywhere?’ Lady Ormiston’s amused glance turned to Juliana. ‘Even into the schoolroom?’

  The two children looked towards Juliana. She realised from their anxious faces that they were thinking of Lady Frances’s visit that morning.

  ‘Not generally, ma’am. We leave the dolls to Nurse’s care while we take our lessons.’

  ‘Papa!’ Wilhelmina ran across the room as Major Collingham and Sir Richard came in. With a laugh, he swung her up into his arms.

  ‘Well, Minna, have you been entertaining our guest?’

  ‘She has not said a word,’ scoffed Gwendoline.

  ‘She is a little shy, but I think we will all be great friends.’ Lady Ormiston waved her fan gently as she watched the Major set his daughter gently on her feet. ‘This is a side of you I have not seen before, Damon.’

  ‘I believe Collingham is becoming quite a family man,’ observed Sir Richard, following his host into the room.

  ‘I think you are right, Rick, and you may believe I will go to any lengths to protect them.’

  The Major’s implacable tone sent a shiver through Juliana—was he trying to warn Veronique off? If so, the lady did not appear to notice. She continued to talk to the children, but, despite her best efforts, Wilhelmina could not be induced to give her more than monosyllabic answers to her questions. The little girl stood beside Juliana, clutching her doll and watching Lady Ormiston with a direct, solemn gaze.

  ‘Oh, dear me.’ Veronique gave an uncertain little laugh. ‘I fear I have frightened poor little Wilhelmina, she looks at me so sternly.’

  Juliana put her hand on the child’s shoulder. ‘I think she is a little tired. We have had an eventful day.’

  ‘Then what are you doing, allowing the children to stay up so late?’ growled Major Collingham. Impatiently he waved her back into her seat as she made to rise. ‘No, no, there is no need for you to go—Nurse will take them upstairs.’

  He beckoned to the old woman, who left her chair in one shadowy corner and came forward.

  ‘Goodnight, my dears.’ Lady Ormiston smiled at them fondly as they left the room. ‘What little dolls, I vow I am quite smitten. Perhaps I should find myself a pageboy.’

  ‘Pageboys grow up,’ replied Sir Richard. ‘Perhaps you should buy a pug instead.’

  ‘Yes, perhaps. Damon, do you remember that frightful Lady Corston and her three pugs? She insisted on taking them everywhere with her, even the Duchess of Almonham’s rout.’

  ‘Where they disgraced themselves on the Aubusson carpet.’ The Major grinned.

  Juliana sat back and listened as the conversation ranged around London society with anecdotes and gossip about people she did not know. She did not object, for she felt battered by the day’s events and was glad to sit quietly and allow her thoughts to wander. However, by the time the party broke up it was nearly midnight and Juliana was fighting to stay awake. Lady Ormiston declared she must retire or fall asleep where she stood.

  ‘Perhaps, Damon, you will escort me to my room? The corridors in this house are so very dark.’

  ‘No need,’ he replied easily. ‘Miss Wrenn can do that.’ Lady Ormiston pouted prettily, but he carried on inexorably. ‘You will find Plumstead has put the bedroom candles ready at the bottom of the stairs. Our guest is in the blue room, Miss Wrenn, in the west wing, beyond the bust o
f Milton.’

  ‘I know it, sir.’

  Juliana watched from the door as Lady Ormiston said goodnight to the gentlemen. They both kissed her hand, but it seemed that Damon held on to those slim fingers a fraction longer, that his eyes followed her as she glided out of the room. Juliana led the way up the stairs and along the landing to the west wing.

  ‘No doubt all the bedrooms are here,’ remarked Veronique as they turned to walk along the main corridor, where their candles reflected dimly in the polished oak panelling. The tall plinths with their marble busts threw out long shadows as they approached them; the cold, impassive faces with their sightless eyes appeared ghoulish in the candlelight. Juliana thought of the less-than-perfect head of Prometheus on display outside the schoolroom. She had passed it many times in the dark and never found it as disturbing as these less familiar sculptures. They seemed to look upon her with disapproval.

  ‘Which room does Major Collingham occupy?’ asked Lady Ormiston.

  Juliana blinked at the blunt question. ‘I—I am not sure.’

  It was a lie. Mrs Plumstead had pointed out the master’s room to her during their tour of the house. It was the door nearest the gallery, but Juliana was not sharing that information with Lady Ormiston.

  ‘No, this is not your side of the house, is it, Miss Wrenn?’

  The contempt in the lady’s voice was unmistakable. Juliana closed her lips firmly and walked on, offering no reply. The only sounds to break the silence were their slippered feet pattering on the boards and the whisper of silken skirts. As they reached the bust of Milton, Juliana stopped.

  ‘Your room is here, ma’am. I am sure you will have all you need, but I understand this part of the house has a new bell system. You only have to ring if you require anything more.’

  ‘So there are no lackeys on duty during the night?’ she murmured. ‘No footmen standing outside my door?’

  ‘No, madam.’

  With a nod of dismissal, Lady Ormiston disappeared into her chamber and Juliana made her way back through the corridor and across the gallery to the east wing. Upon her arrival at Blackthorpe Hall she had been allotted a suite of rooms for herself, Thomas and Amy, but Nurse had suggested it would be much more sensible for the children to sleep in the spare bedrooms in the nursery, where she and the Major’s daughters had their own chambers. Thomas and Amy had not objected to this, but now as Juliana entered her apartment, she was aware of the emptiness, and for the first time wished that she had the children with her. The clock in the schoolroom began to chime: midnight. She decided it was too late to look in on the children. The nursery was situated under the eaves, reached from another flight of creaky stairs at the far end of the passage, and Juliana did not wish to disturb their slumbers. She must go to bed.

 

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