Mrs. Stibbons stirred the fire, then replaced the poker in the brass stand. “I suppose I should get to work. Do you need anything else, miss?”
“No, thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”
The housekeeper beamed pleasantly, then left.
Anna waited until the woman’s footsteps had faded before she tossed her napkin onto the table and leaned over to push open a window. It was a beautiful summer day, the sky blue without a cloud in sight. Below, the garden swayed sleepily in the sunlight, a cacophony of pink, purple, blue and green. The house sat quietly, as if at rest. But somewhere inside the house were five very determined children who were probably even now scheming to oust their new governess, sight unseen.
Fortunately for those five determined children, Anna was not going anywhere. She needed Greyley’s funds if she was going to establish a real home for herself and Grandpapa.
Anna knew the general lot of the children of the ton, and Greyley’s wards seemed to fit the pattern. Confined to the care of unfeeling servants, and allowed out of the nursery only to be shown to company, many children went weeks without seeing their own parents. Anna’s approach as governess was slightly different from most—she tried to improve not only the children’s behavior, but that of their parents as well. Most parents did not maliciously neglect their children; they were merely continuing a pattern they themselves had experienced.
Most governesses wouldn’t have had the opportunity for frank speech, but Anna’s unique position as both a former member of the ton and as the most sought after governess in London had given her access to the lords and ladies she worked for. Like her grandpapa, she never turned from the opportunity to fix same aspect of another person’s life.
Schedules, indeed. Anna sniffed. One of the first things she needed to change was Greyley.
For too many years the earl had had his own way in life—she could see it in the way he expected complete and immediate obedience to even the simplest requests. With unlimited funding, a respected and ancient title solidly behind him, and an impressive physique that left him towering over most men, Greyley believed that he knew what was best for everyone.
It was a very dangerous habit for a man to possess, and Anna decided it was one that needed amending as soon as possible.
But how? She was mulling over this particularly thorny problem when a knock sounded at the door.
A liveried footman appeared holding a silver salver. “A note, miss. From Lord Greyley. He said there was no need to wait for an answer.”
Anna took the note from the salver, and the footman bowed and left.
The vellum was crisp in her fingers, the handwriting bold and strong, each letter marked with a sweeping flourish. Even if she hadn’t seen it before, she would have known Greyley’s handwriting.
Thraxton, the note read.
The children will be assembled in the library at two to meet you. Do not be late.
Greyley
Anna crumpled the note into a ball. It would have been polite to have at least asked if the time was convenient. For an instant, Anna toyed with the idea of sending the earl a note telling him that she would be resting at two, that four would suit her much better. But she was ready to meet her new charges.
Anna resumed her seat at the table and buttered her bread with an efficient swipe of her knife. If she was to win the children over, she’d have to start from their first meeting. What she had to do was surprise them, keep them off balance long enough for her to get under their defenses.
She looked down at her stiff bombazine gown. If the children were expecting an average governess, then she was dressed in the perfect manner. Her gaze drifted to the wardrobe that now contained her few clothes. Reworked gowns in a princess’s closet…but she had one or two items that were not reworked. Her new riding habit, for instance…A thought took hold and she smiled. Perhaps Grandpapa was right after all. It wouldn’t do to appear like a common, ordinary governess. Especially not before the Elliot children.
They might have been under the care of a wide assortment of governesses, but they’d never met Anna Thraxton before. Fortunately for everyone concerned, that was about to change.
Chapter 9
Women provide the only true link to civilization. Men simply are not ruthless enough to survive on their own.
The Countess of Chesterfield to her friend, Mrs. Oglethorpe-White, while taking tea at Lady Bedford’s
Anna reached the library at exactly two. Greyley glanced at her as she entered, then looked again, a frown between his brows.
She didn’t acknowledge him at all, but sailed past to the line of sprites that faced the desk. They stood from tallest to shortest as if placed in line for a military inspection, poor things.
Anna ignored the children’s expressions, which ranged from anger to sullen hostility to simple curiosity, and smiled as brightly as she could. She waited for Greyley to begin the introductions.
He, however, apparently had other things on his mind. He lifted his quizzing glass from where it hung on a ribbon at his waist and looked up and down her form, as if inspecting a horse. “What in bloody hell do you have on?”
Anna glanced down at her riding habit of sapphire blue, the large white feather that adorned the hat brushing her shoulder. The entire ensemble had cost her dearly, and she’d decried her lack of resistance for weeks after she’d purchased it. Still…she trailed a hand along the trimly fitted coat. It had been well worth the money, no matter what Greyley thought. “Don’t you like it?”
“It fits you,” he said, still peering at her through that damnable quizzing glass. “Very well indeed.” There was a hint of warmth to his voice that sent a shiver down Anna’s spine.
Really, she had to regain some control over her traitorous responses. “Lord Greyley, as heartwarming as it is to know that my riding habit has won your approval, I’ve more important things on my mind. Perhaps you should introduce the children.”
He dropped the glass, and his brown eyes seemed darker than usual. “Of course. Children, this is Miss Thraxton, your new governess.”
“She doesn’t look like a governess,” the tallest child muttered, sending her a sullen scowl. He appeared to be eleven or so years of age, with a pale, thin countenance and a reed-slender body. His hair was the Elliot brown, somewhere between a true chestnut and a dull brown, the thick locks standing on end here and there, as if unwilling to bend to a brush.
His dark gaze flickered over her with suspicion. “Why are you wearing your habit?”
“Because I plan to go for a lovely jaunt around the park.” She glanced at Greyley, who stood watching her with a faint smile. “I will need a mount.”
“I already had one in mind—a bay with an even gait. I think you’ll enjoy her.”
“So long as she has some spirit, I’m sure she’ll do nicely.”
“Governesses don’t go for rides,” the boy said with a superior smirk. “Grooms go for rides.”
“I’m not your ordinary governess.”
That did not appear to please the boy at all. He scowled. “How are you any different?”
“For one thing, I plan on spending time with you. A lot.” she said briskly.
His frown deepened. “Doing what?”
“Reading, playing, eating…almost everything.”
“Everything? All day?”
“Oh yes,” she said cheerfully. “From the time you awaken, to the time you fall asleep, I will be there.” Most governesses jealously guarded their free time, but Anna had learned to use every moment. After all, the more immersed she was in the lives of her charges, the more influence she had. Once things were better established, she would have no compunction in turning them over to other servants or a groom. But for now, they were her primary concern. “I daresay you are going to get quite tired of me before the day’s out.”
The boy’s jaw tightened. “Bloody hell.”
“Desford,” Greyley growled.
“Master Desford, is it?” An
na said. “How nice to meet you.”
He stared back, resentment in his gaze, making no move to take the hand she held out.
That’s the way he wishes to play this, eh? She dropped her hand back to her side. “I can see that one of the things we will have to work on are your manners.”
He smirked. “I have manners. I just don’t find them necessary in my cousin’s house.”
Greyley’s brow lowered. “Desford, I’m going to—”
“My lord,” Anna said, “please don’t protest on my account. I find challenges stimulating.” She met Desford’s gaze with a direct one of her own. “In fact, the more challenging the position, the better I like it. It is the other positions, where the children are perfectly behaved, that I deplore.”
“Why’s that?” Desford asked, clearly unhappy with what he was hearing.
“Boredom,” she said airily. “I left one job three months early because I was bored to tears. I simply couldn’t stand such perfect children.”
He tried to hide it, but Anna could see that she had nonplussed him. It wouldn’t last, of course, but she’d given him something to think about which was quite enough for the first meeting. She came to the next child in line. “Who might you be?”
The girl began to dip a curtsy, then caught Desford’s gaze and stopped, flushing.
Greyley sighed. “This is Miss Elizabeth Elliot.”
Anna examined Elizabeth. Though shorter than Desford, Elizabeth outweighed her brother by a good stone. Plump and red cheeked, she had the air of a country maid. But Anna noted that the child’s hair was brushed and braided, a bright red ribbon threaded through the whole in an inexpert manner. “How lovely,” Anna murmured, touching the ribbon. “I do so like to curl hair.”
As Anna had expected, Elizabeth’s eyes lit. “Do you?”
“Oh yes. I have my own irons, too. We can curl it this evening, if you’d like.”
“Liza,” growled Desford.
Elizabeth bit her lip and Anna could almost feel the child backing away from her. Refusing to bow to such heavy-handed tactics, Anna merely said, “I have some extra ribbons, as well. Some lovely blue ones.” Then she stepped on to the next child. “Who have we here?”
The little boy was an exact replica of Desford, but his narrow face was shadowed, his eyes haunted. Anna held out her hand. “How do you do?”
He didn’t move, just stood staring up at her. She could feel Greyley at her side. “Richard doesn’t speak,” he said quietly.
Anna knelt in front of the boy and smiled. “I daresay you will speak when you have something to say, won’t you?” She reached out to smooth a strand of hair from his brow. The moment her fingers brushed his forehead, he jerked back, his mouth thinning into a mutinous line.
Anna chuckled. “At least you are still able to think for yourself. I will remember that you don’t like anyone touching your hair.” Though the child didn’t move, she thought she detected a gleam of faint approval in his glance.
She stood and brushed her knees, then went to the next child, a girl of about six with a head of curly hair that longed for a brush, her stout body dressed in a torn and grass-stained gown. “How do you do?”
The girl wiped her nose on a rather grimy sleeve. “I’m Maid Marian.”
“Miss Marian Elliot,” Greyley said in a tone of long suffering.
Anna had to swallow a chuckle. “How do you do, Maid Marian. I loved the stories of Robin Hood when I was young, too.”
Maid Marian glanced at her brothers and sisters, who were all glaring at her. The sight seemed to give her courage, for she straightened her shoulders and then said in a defiant tone, “Desford made a bow and some arrows for me.”
“How kind of him! I didn’t have a brother to help me and I was forced to make a bow and arrow out of the broom handle and a bit of string and just pretend to shoot. I daresay you are quite good.”
“I beat Desford,” Marian said in a proud tone.
“Did not,” the young boy said hotly. “Liza jostled my arm or I’d have hit the bull.”
Marian plopped a hand on her hip. “Liza didn’t touch you and you know it! I hit closer to the center than you. Therefore I won.”
Anna had to give the child credit—she wasn’t about to let Desford bully her. Which was a good thing, because it was painfully obvious that he was their unspoken leader. Perhaps that was the weak link in the chain—none of them was as angry as Desford.
Anna moved on to the last child in line. She was tiny, with silky brown ringlets falling over her brow and shoulders, and thickly lashed blue eyes that focused on Anna with unwavering regard. The child held on to a ragged doll that was missing an arm and one eye. The little girl didn’t seem to mind, for she hugged it tightly while sucking on one of her fingers.
“This is my troublemaker,” Greyley said. Though the words could have been harsh, they were more a rough caress and the little girl knew it, for she grinned up at him, unabashed. He ruffled her hair, his expression softening slightly. “She looks like a baby, but she’s devil spawn from her topmost ringlet to her chubby toes.”
“I did it all,” she replied proudly, sticking her thumb in the middle of her own chest. “By myself, too.”
“So I’ve been told,” he said with mock gravity. He met Anna’s gaze. “According to Desford and the others, Miss Selena is the cause of all the unrest here at Greyley House.”
Anna looked at Selena. “Even the frogs?”
“I catched them all,” she said in a well-rehearsed voice. “With my fingers.”
“My, how brave! I dislike frogs myself.” She leaned forward. “It’s a good thing they don’t bite.”
Selena’s gaze widened and she looked at Desford.
“Frogs don’t bite,” he said, his brows so low they almost met at the center.
Selena appeared relieved and Anna hid a smile as she straightened. “I am so looking forward to being with all of you. Perhaps we should begin with a ride.” She turned to face Greyley. “What do you think?”
“The children have rides Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Perhaps you would like to ride with the children then.”
“Oh no. I would much rather ride with the children today.”
It appeared Greyley had suddenly remembered something very sour, for his mouth pulled in at the corners. “Miss Thraxton—”
“It’s my first day and I believe it would benefit the children if we could spend a little time together.”
The earl took a slow breath, as if to release some sort of inner pressure. “Thraxton, you and I have to—”
“Who,” said a shrill voice from the doorway, “is this? Greyley, please tell me you didn’t hire yet another governess without asking my advice.”
Anna turned to see a woman walking toward them, her hair dyed an unnatural black, her face highly painted, black silk draperies fluttering about her stout form. Her small blue eyes took in Anna from head to foot, noting the expert cut of her habit with a frown. “Who is she? And why is she dressed in such a way?”
At her militant tone, the earl regarded his visitor with a pointed expression.
The woman’s mouth thinned, but the earl did not reply. Finally the woman said in a testy voice, “I daresay it is the new governess, though why she has on a riding habit is beyond me.”
Greyley’s gaze narrowed. “Lady Putney, allow me to introduce Miss Thraxton.”
“Thraxton? I’ve heard that name before.”
“I’m sure you have,” the earl said smoothly. “The Thraxtons are an important family in Bath. Miss Thraxton is reputed to be the best governess in all of England.”
Anna thought she detected the slightest flicker of something in Lady Putney’s face, but all the woman said was, “I hope she lasts longer than the others.” She turned her back on Anna and began talking to the children. “There you are, my sweets. Grandmama just returned from town with some candies. Come to my room and I’ll give them to you.”
“Evaline,” Greyley said stern
ly. “You are not to stuff the children with candy before dinner. We have already discussed this.”
“Yes, but the children—”
“—do not need to have their dinner spoiled every time you visit the village.”
Lady Putney clasped her hands together. “You don’t care about the children, do you? You just want them under your control, just as you wish to control everything around you!” She placed a hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder and pulled the plump child against her. “Do not fear, my darlings. Grandmama is here to help you.”
Anna felt as if she’d stumbled into a very poorly written play. Apparently Greyley thought the same, for he said in a heavy tone, “That’s quite enough, Evaline.”
“I just want the children to have some candy,” Lady Putney said softly, her bottom lip quivering. “Would you forbid them even this one small pleasure?”
The children turned questioning eyes on the earl.
“I said no,” he snapped.
His voice seemed harsh after Lady Putney’s sugared tones, and Anna grimaced. Heavens, but she had her work cut out for her. The children fixed sullen gazes on the earl while Lady Putney just looked pathetic.
Anna cleared her throat. “Lord Greyley, as I was saying prior to meeting Lady Putney, perhaps the children could go for a ride with me this afternoon. Would you mind?”
Greyley’s gaze swung Anna’s way. “The children—”
“I’d like to ride,” Elizabeth said, breaking from Lady Putney’s side. The child’s face brightened. “More than anything.”
“Me, too,” Marian said, stepping forward.
Greyley’s brow lowered. Anna placed her hand on his arm and leaned forward to say quietly, “It will do them good to get out of the house.”
“But the schedule,” he said stiffly.
Heavens, when had the man become so stern and unyielding? She remembered some of the tales Sara had told her about Greyley’s youth, and Anna had to fight a sudden giggle. “My lord, I’m surprised you are so attached to the concept of a schedule. There was a time when you were more impulsive.”
“Me?” he asked, apparently insulted by the thought.
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