What Happens in Piccadilly

by Bowlin, Chasity

  “I believe that his relationship with his father might have been strained. I know he had not seen his brother in some time as he’d been residing in Spain for many years.”

  “Is this more gossip from our servants?” Effie asked.

  “Please don’t be cross with them. I did ask them, after all,” Callie stated.

  “Given the sort of trouble you girls have been finding lately,” Effie asserted with a smirk, “I might need to raise their wages for being such accomplished spies. Regardless, I find it somewhat unusual that he had such a small number of relations and seems to have suffered some estrangement from them both.”

  “We can hardly hold him responsible for his brother’s situation. Given the rather unorthodox manner in which the children have been brought up thus far,” Callie pointed out, “we must assume that he was living in a fashion that was not compatible with that of our society. And as for his father… well, Effie, we both know that many men father children when they are quite unsuited to the raising of them.”

  Effie nodded. “You’re quite right. And I imagine that regardless of the nature of their relationships, he must be grieving, even if in his own quiet way.”

  “I would certainly say that is true,” Callie agreed.

  Effie eyed her suspiciously for a moment. “You aren’t worried about his intentions at all, are you, Callie?”

  Callie’s blush deepened further and she could feel the all-knowing, all-seeing gaze of her friend and mentor penetrating through to the very heart of the matter as always. “He is a very attractive man and one to whom it would be unwise for me to develop any sort of attachment or feeling. He is my employer, after all.”

  “Yes, but you feel something for him?”

  “I barely know him! Why, we’ve only just met!” Callie protested.

  “Wasn’t it Marlowe who said, ‘Whoever loved that loved not at first sight’?” Effie reminded her. “I’m not suggesting that you’ve fallen in love with him. That would be utterly preposterous. But I am suggesting that if you find him attractive, and given your obvious and immediate affection for those children, it puts you in a particularly vulnerable position, Calliope St. James… one that is cause for great concern to me.”

  “I’ll be quite all right. He is the Earl of Montgomery, after all, and I know very well my own place in society is quite different from his.”

  “As if that means anything!” Effie scoffed.

  “It means everything,” Callie insisted. “I do not think he is the sort of man who would thumb his nose at propriety and all that society mandates for him when choosing a bride. And as we both know, I would never consent to be anything else. Yes, I find him handsome and witty, and I think he’s a very good man. But that doesn’t make me love him, nor does it make me suddenly forgetful of our very disparate situations in life.”

  Effie nodded after a moment. “You will be cautious, won’t you? I’ve never heard anything untoward about him but that doesn’t mean anything. I have my own sources that I can suss out information about him through. And I fully intend to do so before you go to that house on Monday.”

  Callie rose. “And I won’t even try to stop you. I do believe he’s an honorable man, but if women were capable of truly determining a man’s character based on such short acquaintance, there would be no need of a school such as this one to tend all the resulting births of that dishonor!”

  “True enough. I must go out. I have errands to run and you, my dearest Callie, have lessons to plan. Lots and lots of them it would seem.”

  To that end, Callie went upstairs to her small room and began looking at her materials. She had some primers and some simple mathematics books. They would do for a start, but she’d provide a list to the earl on Monday of all that they’d need to truly begin the children’s instruction. She fervently hoped that providing daily instruction would be enough for them. There was a loneliness, a sadness in those children. As if despite having had their mother and father, they’d never truly had anyone, that they’d been alone for most of their lives. It was a feeling that Callie understood all too well.

  *

  Effie had taken a hack to her destination. Dressed in a heavy cloak, the hood pulled up to shield her face from any passersby, there was little fear of anyone recognizing her. Climbing the steps to the rather imposing edifice of the townhouse that was twice as wide as any other on the street and an entire story taller, she lifted the ornate knocker and let it bang heavily against the brass plate beneath.

  The butler answered almost immediately. His raised eyebrows were his only indication of shock. “May I help you?”

  “I’m here to see Lord Highcliff. He’s expecting me.”

  “No, Madam, he most assuredly is not,” the butler replied.

  “We are old friends. He is always expecting me,” she stated firmly, in a tone far haughtier than she would typically use with anyone. “Now, let me inside and you may tell him that Effie is here.”

  Apparently, the tactic worked. The butler stepped back and allowed her to pass. As she stepped into the hall, Highcliff appeared from the doorway of a room down the hall. He looked at her sharply, clearly recognizing her in spite of her disguise.

  “Come,” he said rather sharply and gestured for her to join him there.

  Effie closed the distance, walking along the corridor. The house felt empty. And as she looked about, she could see a fine film of dust on everything.

  “Have you no servants beyond your butler?” she asked.

  “I have a housekeeper and a maid who comes in a few times a week.”

  Her own eyebrows arched upward at that. “Really?”

  He shrugged. “I never said they were particularly good at their jobs, did I?”

  “No,” she agreed. “And if you did, I would have to call you a liar or a fool. Why are you living this way, Nicholas? You’re not a pauper, you’re not a man who has never lived with luxury. You could have an entire battalion of servants to see to your comfort!”

  “Because the fewer people who are in this house, Effie, the more I get to be me. Not the me that I have to be out there,” he said softly. “All the pretending grows tiresome. And here, with only my butler and a cook who remains in the kitchen, I need not do so.”

  There was something in his tone that created a sharp, biting fear in her. She’d never heard him sound unhappy. Bored, sardonic, angry, sarcastic and biting—but never unhappy, never lonely. And tired, she thought. He sounded utterly exhausted. “Then give it up,” she urged him. “Let someone else do it for a change! I worry about you. For the toll it takes on you.”

  “And what should I do instead?” he asked simply, ushering her into his study. “Manage my estates? They are all in good hands. Entertain? Go about in society as the man I truly am and not the mask I’ve worn for years? I’d soon be a pariah, as well you know. No one, Effie, likes to be played for a fool, and save for those gentleman who have worked with me and for me and you, I have played them all for such. It’s not something that would be easily forgiven.”

  “You could marry. Have a family. You wouldn’t have to be alone, then.” Even as she said it, it cut her to the quick. The very idea of him loving someone else pricked her soul, but she’d paste a glad smile on her face if it meant he’d have even a moment’s happiness.

  He looked at her for a moment. There was something in his gaze she could not identify. Then he smiled at her rather patronizingly. “That is not for me, Euphemia Darrow, as well we both know. And you should not be here.”

  “I need information,” she said. “I made assumptions when I received a letter requesting the services of a governess for the Earl of Montgomery. I didn’t realize that the title had been passed down to the son.”

  Highcliff frowned. “Winn? I honestly don’t know much about him. But that’s a good thing, really. The less I know, the less likely he is to associate with those he should not. He’s a good sort, as far as I know. He’s never been heavily into gaming or… ladies.”

>   “Prostitutes, you mean.”

  He donned an expression of mock outrage. “Such language, Miss Darrow! What would your charges think?”

  “That I’d learned it from listening to them. Contrary to what people might think, it isn’t just the castoff bastards of gentlemen I instruct. I’ve taken some special cases from the workhouses and even debtor’s prison. Will Calliope be safe going to and from his home? Will she be safe in his home?”

  He ushered her deeper into the room and showed her to a small sitting area near the window. “You cannot protect them from everything, Effie. You know that, don’t you? These girls are not girls at all! They are women fully grown and the world, as we both know, can be a vicious place.”

  “Which is all the more reason that I should do what I can to mitigate the risks,” she pointed out. “I only want to know that I haven’t put her in harm’s way by not doing my own due diligence.”

  He leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily. “I will look into it. I’m certain he’s fine. I’ve never heard a single word about him that was unfavorable. In truth, people rarely talk about him at all. That can only be a good thing. His brother, on the other hand, he was another matter. Wild, reckless, faithless. But he took off for Spain amidst a scandal and eloped with the youngest daughter of a nobleman whom he’d compromised quite thoroughly. I am assuming it’s their children the Earl of Montgomery is employing a governess for?”

  “Yes,” Effie admitted. “Calliope says the children are very troubled. I hope she can help them.”

  “For what it’s worth, so do I,” he said. There was a long moment of silence then, not uncomfortable but certainly filled with a kind of tension that had been growing more noticeable and more persistent with every meeting between them. “This is no place for you. Don’t come here again, Effie.”

  “Why not?” she asked. There were a dozen reasons. He was a man. She was a woman. They were both unmarried. Her career depended upon her sterling reputation. His reputation was anything but. They were in Mayfair where nothing went unnoticed. The list continued. She was waiting for him to utter something irrevocable. That he was done with her. That he despised her. That she was as unwanted by him as she was by her father.

  He looked at her, that one dark brow lifted in challenge. “You know why. I am an unmarried man and you are an unmarried woman. I don’t even have enough servants in this house to keep it together, much less provide even the barest hint of respectability.”

  She shook her head. “I was careful to keep my identity concealed… and I have nothing to fear from you, Nicholas. You are my friend.”

  “No. I am not,” he said. “I was once. But that was a long time ago. Men and women of our age, unmarried and unfettered as it were, cannot be friends. Besides, being your friend, now or in the past, does not make me any less of a threat to you.”

  She rolled her eyes at that. “You would never harm me.”

  Those were the last words she uttered. He lunged forward in his seat, one of his arms closing about her waist to pull her forward while the other one wound through the loose chignon of her hair, scattering pins as he gripped it tightly. Their faces were less than a single breath apart. “There are many ways to harm a woman.”

  Effie’s chin notched upward and she met his gaze boldly. “Then go ahead. Do whatever it is that you mean to do. Teach me your lesson. Because that’s what this is about, isn’t it? You don’t desire me. You don’t want me. You never have. But you’re damned determined to make me a slave to my fear, so go ahead!”

  His eyes darkened, the pupils dilating until they were pools of black ringed by pale silver. Then they narrowed, dropping to the curve of her lips. And before she could even think that he actually meant to do it, his lips touched hers. As fierce as his hold was, the strength of his arm like a steel band about her and his other hand tightly wound in her hair, his lips were gentle. It was the merest whisper of contact at first. His mouth brushed against hers once, twice, and on the third pass settled more firmly, mapping the curves of contours found there.

  Effie let out a soft sigh, a sound that was half-pleasure and half-dismay. It was a moment she’d been waiting for, as if now that it had occurred, she could finally release that little bit of breath she’d been holding for more than half her life. Then he deepened the kiss, the press of his lips more firm over hers, the sweep of his tongue as it invaded was insistent but also seductive. And she was lost. She’d longed for that moment for many so years, for him to kiss her or acknowledge that there was something between them. And now that he’d done so, she regretted it instantly. She could feel it changing her, altering the very fabric of who she was. Wondering what it would feel like was so much easier than knowing it and wishing fervently for it to happen again.

  It might have been only a moment or it might have been an eternity. Either was both not enough and entirely too much. But he drew back abruptly and rose, crossing the room to the window, keeping his back to her, and leaving her alone there, bereft and rejected.

  “You need to leave,” he said. “And do not come back. I’ll send word when I have it, or if there’s simply none to be had.”

  “Why did you do it?” she asked, hating that her voice trembled and tears stung her eyes.

  “Why did I kiss you?” he asked without ever turning to face her.

  “Yes. We’ve known each other for nearly two decades and you have never touched me in such a manner.”

  He didn’t turn around. His voice echoed, bouncing off the glass in front of him as he replied, “Because I can. Because you need to know that you are vulnerable, Effie. That there are men in this world who would take advantage of you, and God help us both, but I am one of them.”

  Chapter Three

  It was exactly eight in the morning when Callie knocked upon the door at the Earl of Montgomery’s elegant Palladian home. The butler, a dour-faced man who was being shadowed by a youngish and nervous-looking man that had worn footman’s livery on her last visit, met her there and frowned. “As a servant, Miss St. James, you should not be making free with the front entrance. From this point forward, you will utilize the servants’ entrance below stairs.”

  Callie laughed. Recalling Effie’s often stated motto, begin as you mean to end, she said, “Oh, no. I will not. I’m not a servant. I’m a governess. A sought after, highly respected graduate of the Darrow School. You might be able to bully girls from other agencies, but I’m not one of them. I’ll come and go through the front entrance as is my right as a young woman of quality and I will not skulk about in any manner that suggests my presence here is anything other than entirely appropriate. But thank you for this little talk. It’s certainly nice to know where one stands in the household.”

  With that, Callie breezed past the man, approached a maid who was standing there agape in the corridor, and asked, “And are the children awake yet?”

  “Certainly, Miss St. James. They are in the breakfast room with his lordship. Do you wish to join them?” the maid asked as she looked past Callie to the disapproving butler.

  Callie smiled warmly at the girl, as if her power struggle at the door with the butler was nothing of note. “I’ve already broken my fast, but I would certainly love to go in. It will be beneficial to me to see how their table manners are at present and to know what we might need to work on.”

  “This way, Miss,” the maid offered and led Callie down the corridor, past the grand staircase and toward a small room that overlooked the garden. The Hepplewhite sideboard was laden with dishes but the matching table was a scene of chaos. Claudia and William were throwing bread at one another. Little Charlotte was blowing bubbles in her teacup and the earl had his nose buried in his news sheet, ignoring the lot of it.

  Callie made a great production of clearing her throat. The news sheet folded down and the Earl of Montgomery met her gaze across the top of it. “Would you care to explain all of this?” she asked.

  “I think it rather self-explanatory, Miss St. James,” he said
. “They are savages.”

  Her lips pursed, as much in actual disapproval as to keep from laughing at his rather flat delivery of such a statement, Callie countered, “My lord, as the only adult in the room, if the children are behaving savagely, it is a result of the direction you have given them, or in this case, I would rather guess it is the direction you have not given them.” To illustrate her point, she called each of the children down in turn. “Charlotte, we do not blow bubbles in our teacup. Tea is for drinking and not for playing. Claudia and William, we do not throw food. It is for eating and not to be used as some sort of weapon. Now, I want all three of you to sit down, face the table as intended, and eat your breakfast. If you do so, then we will go out for a walk in the park before we begin our lessons.”

  Lord Montgomery lowered his news sheet then, folding it and placing it just so next to his plate. “And that, Miss St. James, is how you take control of the situation? By resorting to bribery?”

  Callie seated herself next to Charlotte and took the little girl’s serviette which was tucked into the front of her dress and draped it over the small child’s lap. “We don’t tuck our serviettes into our clothes like we’re field hands. They are draped across our laps just so. It’s much more convenient for wiping sticky fingers,” she said and then gave the child a little pat on her head. Turning her attention back to the earl, she said, “It is only bribery if I’m offering incentive for them to do things they should not. Offering incentive to do things they should is simply a reward. We all like to be rewarded for our work. I wish to be paid for being a governess, after all.”

  “And what, precisely, is their work?” the earl demanded. “They are children, after all!”

  “The work of children is to play and to learn by doing so. It is also to learn how to emulate the adults around them and function in the world when they are grown,” Callie replied simply. “For that to happen, we must interact with them and teach them by example rather than ignoring them in favor of our news sheets.” The last statement was rather pointedly directed at him and his arched eyebrows and tightened jaw indicated that he was well aware of it.