“Why would he tell you such things?” Callie demanded. She couldn’t fathom what he was saying. The words all made sense, she understood them, but the meaning behind them and what they signified about her own life was not something that she could grasp in that moment. “Who admits such monstrous things to someone that, by your account, would only qualify as an acquaintance? You must have misunderstood.”
“The current Duke of Averston is in an untenable situation… he inherited the title, but the wealth is not his. It’s in trust, for the missing illegitimate daughter of his uncle. A woman, he as much as admitted to me, that he would see dead in the same manner his grandmother had done for her mother. He has no reason to fear consequences. Why would he? Wealth or no, he’s powerful and all but untouchable by the courts,” the earl continued. “And at the Arcade, when Burney commented on how familiar you were to him, he did so because he had seen the portrait as well.”
Something about the statement bothered her, creating a sense of déjà vu almost, as if she’d heard that sentiment expressed before. “You really believe this?”
“I do,” he said. “And what’s more, Burney believes it. He had some miscreant throw a rock through the window this morning with a blackmail demand tied about it. Burney is desperate but not especially clever. He’s threatened to expose your identity to the Duke of Averston if I don’t pay him.”
Callie couldn’t quite comprehend all that was coming at her. “Why on earth would he think that you would ever do such a ridiculous thing for someone who is only a governess?”
*
Because she was so much more than just a governess, and Burney, blockhead that he was, had at least managed to glean that correctly. Still, he couldn’t afford for her to be. He certainly had not planned that she would be. But from the moment he’d first laid his eyes upon her, he’d been drawn to her. Watching her with the children, literally the only family he had left, had made him realize just what was missing from his existence as a confirmed bachelor. And now, facing the possibility that she might be in danger, he knew that he would do whatever was necessary to ensure her safety.
How was he to keep her safe from harm? While others might assume he was being overprotective or jumping at shadows, he had seen the truth of it in Averston’s cold gaze. The man was capable of a ruthlessness most would not imagine. And given the incentive of the fortune he currently had access to, even in a limited capacity, he would not easily give that up.
But how could he protect her? He couldn’t even keep her under his own roof, for heaven’s sake.
You could marry Miss St. James. William’s suggestion, made from innocence and ignorance, immediately came to mind. It was not out of the question. He had no need to marry for wealth nor did he particularly care for the notion of marrying for prestige. The simple truth was, he’d never considered marriage at all. He’d been utterly content with his bachelor status. But there were many things about his life in that current moment that had changed inexorably. Why should his marital status not be amongst them?
Still, no offer was forthcoming. In part because they barely knew one another and that was a very permanent arrangement to enter into for the sake of what could prove to be temporary danger. Also, he wasn’t entirely certain of what her answer would be. And if Burney did as advised and kept his rather large mouth shut, there would be no need to go to such extremes. And if, in time, he did decide to pursue Miss St. James as something other than simply the children’s governess, they would both know he did so for the right reasons—that he wanted her solely for her own sake and not for any claim she might have to a fortune that rivaled the Crown’s.
“William might have said, in front of Charles Burney, that I should marry you,” Winn admitted.
Miss St. James laughed at that after the shock of it settled. “Why on earth would the boy have said such a ridiculous thing?”
“Because William doesn’t understand the idea of ‘just’ a governess,” Winn replied, trying not to let her disparaging tone sting overly much. “Nor should he. I should hope that he will continue, in this life, to judge people more by their actions and character than any title that might be attached to them. He thinks you’re pretty and he thinks you’re nice… and he is correct on both counts. To his mind, and indeed to the mind of most men, that would make you an exceptional choice as a bride.”
“But not for you,” she surmised.
“I did not say that. I’ve never considered myself the marrying sort. I knew Wills had provided the requisite heir and expected that more children, still, would be forthcoming from my brother’s union. I was free to live in my bachelor state as long as I desired.” And until three miscreant children and one utterly enticing governess had turned his world upside down, he’d thought that would be forever.
“I see. So you don’t object to marrying me, you just object to marriage in general,” she summed up.
Winn had the distinct impression that she was somehow insulted. “Let us just say, Miss St. James, that were I to ever enter into the state of holy matrimony, I should hope that I had thought out my actions well, chosen my bride carefully, and that I should be lucky enough for her to possess even a portion of your beauty, intelligence and kindness. Where is Miss Darrow?”
“I’m here, Lord Montgomery,” Euphemia Darrow said as she opened the door to the office and stepped inside. “Whatever could have been so urgent this morning?”
“Good morning, Effie,” Callie said. “His lordship seems to have potentially identified, albeit inadvertently, who my parents were. And now he thinks I may be in danger because of it.”
Effie’s face paled. “What? In danger? In danger from who? That is a great deal to impart without actually telling me anything at all, Calliope!”
“I believe that Miss St. James is the daughter of the former Duke of Averston and his late mistress. According to Averston, his very own grandmother had his uncle’s mistress murdered to prevent the former duke form marrying her and bringing scandal down upon the family… the child she bore him, a daughter, has been missing since,” Winn answered.
Effie nodded. “I’m going to require more details than that.”
Winn shook his head. Of course, she would. Women, all of them, were maddening. “Averston is the coldest of fish and the dowager duchess… well, she is as ruthless as they come. Because of Veronique Delaine’s occupation, she was deemed unworthy of the former duke’s affections. The intent, based upon what Averston relayed to me, was to eliminate her and the child. Mademoiselle Delaine perished in a terrible accident, but the child was unaccounted for. And all these years on, this child, a daughter, has been rumored to have survived… and I believe, with all my heart, that Calliope St. James is the lost heir to the former Duke of Averston.”
“What has led you to this belief? There must be something!”
“Another gentleman and I who were both in attendance at the current duke’s residence saw the portrait of Mademoiselle Delaine. Shortly, thereafter, Miss St. James, the children and I bumped into this gentleman, Charles Burney, while shopping. He has since noted the remarkable resemblance between Miss St. James and the woman whom I now believe was her mother.”
Both Callie and Effie Darrow blinked at him in surprise at that very succinct retelling of the events.
“Mademoiselle Veronique Delaine?” Effie asked, shaking her head as if to clear it of cobwebs. “I saw her once when I was very, very young. In a play on Drury Lane. But we were, of course, seated so far away that I could not even begin to describe her face other than to say that I had the impression she was rather beautiful.”
“And if the portrait is an accurate representation of how she appeared in life, then I daresay your impression was quite correct,” Winn said.
“Drury Lane,” Callie said, her voice distant and seeming lost in thought. “I recall now that the dressmaker I took Claudia and Charlotte to, Madame de Beauchamps—she asked me if anyone in my family had ever worked in the theater because she said I look
ed terribly familiar to her. She mentioned Drury Lane.”
“Then we should go to see Madame de Beauchamps,” Winn stated.
“No,” Effie said. “You should take Callie to your home. She should instruct the children as planned and, above all, stay indoors with them the entire time. No trips to the park. Not today. Not any day until this is sorted out. I will go see Madame de Beauchamps myself.”
“But what will you say to her?” Callie asked. “I don’t think you should involve yourself if there is danger, Effie!”
“Yes, Miss Darrow,” Winn interjected. “While I certainly have no say in allowing you to do anything, I must protest. Miss St. James is correct and you could be putting yourself in danger.”
“My lord, how could I do anything else? While I understand most people view the Darrow School as just that… a school, it is, in fact, so much more. The girls who come here are like my own children. They are my family and I would never dream of not doing all that was in my power to protect them,” Effie replied. “I assure you, my lord, that I will have all the assistance I require to see to my own safety. You, however, are charged with Miss St. James’ safety, and I hope you realize just how much she means… to all of us.”
“I do, Miss Darrow,” Winn answered. “If you are ready, Miss St. James, I will hire a hack to transport us to the house. The less we are both walking about the streets of London right now, the better.”
Chapter Eleven
The interior of the hired hack was quiet, neither of them speaking. The silence between them was neither comfortable nor awkward. It was present and noted, significant, but also necessary. Winn understood that. There was a great deal for Miss St. James to consider, a great deal to take in, and as for himself, he had his own plotting and planning to do.
Finally, when they had almost reached the house, she asked, “Do you really believe that I am in danger?”
“I think the possibility exists and it would be imprudent not to treat that possibility with all the respect and caution it deserves,” he answered honestly.
“Then perhaps I shouldn’t continue working for you, my lord. I don’t want to place the children in harm’s way,” she said.
“I don’t want them in harm’s way, Miss St. James, but I’m not willing to let you be either. Sometimes, danger must be eliminated rather than simply avoided,” Winn insisted. “And I daresay if you were to attempt to leave them, you’d face greater danger from the three of those imps than anything Averston might devise.”
The comment coaxed a soft smile from her. That gentle curving of her lips called to mind their all too brief kiss. It had been a mistake. He knew that. It was a lapse in judgment and a lapse in propriety from him that was out of character. But he didn’t regret it. He couldn’t. Not when all he wanted, more than anything else, was to repeat it. Of course, it wouldn’t be a simple brushing of his lips against hers if the opportunity presented itself once more. If he kissed her again, he meant to kiss her in a manner that neither of them would ever forget.
“We shouldn’t mention any of this to the children,” Callie insisted. “I won’t have them worry… and I certainly won’t have William doing something reckless because he thinks it’s his duty to protect me.”
“And he most assuredly would,” Winn agreed. “We will say nothing to them. As for reasons for you not taking them to the park, blame it on a megrim or some other simple malady. Or lay the blame at my door. Heaven knows they’ve all certainly done something that warrants a restriction of some sort.”
“Absolutely not! I won’t have them thinking they are being punished without just cause.”
“Whatever it takes to keep them safe,” he said. “And you.”
She eyed him curiously, her gaze direct and unwavering. “Why does it matter so much to you?”
“Because it does,” Winn stated. “Because you work for me and that places you under my protection. Because the children care for you and need you. Because… because I very much want to kiss you again, Calliope St. James, and I plan on ensuring that there is ample opportunity for me to do so.” It wasn’t something he should say, nor was it something he should feel. But it was there nonetheless and he didn’t mean to hide it from himself or from her.
Her lips formed a soft “O”. “My lord… that is, I hardly think this is an appropriate topic of conversation. And it’s hardly an altruistic motive!”
“I’m not an altruistic man, Miss St. James,” he admitted. “I’m not a bounder or a rogue by any means, but I’m not a saint either. And I think, if you’re perfectly honest with yourself and with me, you want the same.”
“That hardly signifies.”
Winn leaned forward and captured her hand in his. He made no other move, simply held her delicate hand in his for a moment, feeling the slightness of it, the impression of fragility that could only be misleading. “It does signify. Tell me the truth.”
“I shouldn’t.”
He needed to know. As much as he needed his next breath, he needed to know that she felt at least some stirring of attraction for him. “Do it anyway.”
“I liked it when you kissed me,” she admitted, almost defiantly. “And while the thought of repeating it does appeal to me, it is unwise and we should not even be discussing it much less contemplating it.”
Satisfied with that, Winn relented. “Fair enough, Miss St. James… for now. I’ll take my victory, no matter how small it is.”
Callie rolled her eyes. “We are not at war, my lord.”
“Aren’t we? I certainly feel as if I am under siege. I think of you constantly,” he admitted.
For the longest moment, she simply blinked at him, apparently stunned by his admission. When she’d managed to regain her composure, she pointed out, “You’ve known me for less than a week.”
He felt the tug of a grin at his lips, though it was certainly a rueful one. “To borrow your own phrasing, Miss St. James, that hardly signifies. Whether I’ve known you for ten minutes or ten days or ten years… I daresay you are the type of woman a man never forgets. You invade us… our thoughts, our dreams, until we’re nothing but hollowed out wrecks of our former selves.”
She stammered for a moment, attempting to formulate a reply. But wide-eyed, she eventually gave up and simply stared at him. He’d caught her off guard that morning, in more ways than one. Finally, she managed to say, “That’s hardly a flattering assessment.”
“Isn’t it? I had thought myself immune to such things… that no woman could ever get under my skin in quite that way. And yet here we are. In short, Miss St. James, you’ve turned me into a jabbering, calf-eyed fool like some fresh out of the schoolroom lad who doesn’t know his head from his—well, regardless. You have a singular kind of power, Calliope St. James. I urge you to wield it wisely.”
“I don’t feel powerful,” she admitted. “I feel confused and frightened and out of my depth at every turn. But the one thing I am certain of is that the kiss we shared, as such things go, was fairly benign.”
Winn shook his head. “I wouldn’t say it was benign. It was relatively chaste in the overall scheme of things, but no less potent for it.”
She nodded. “I suppose that’s an accurate assessment. You said you wanted to kiss me again… why haven’t you? There has certainly been opportunity to do so.”
“I suppose I’m waiting for you to decide that you’d like to be kissed.”
“Oh. Would it be only a kiss?”
“If that is what you desire,” Winn replied.
“Then perhaps you should kiss me now. It might be that the first one was an aberration of sorts,” she suggested.
He didn’t laugh. In fact, he half-hoped she was right. Yet, he knew that if he kissed her again, it would only solidify one truth for him. Calliope St. James had the power to tie him in knots.
Winn pulled her across the small distance separating their seats until she was pressed against his chest. His arms closed around her and she leaned into him, her lashes fluttering as sh
e closed her eyes. Unable to resist a moment longer, he claimed her lips. Despite his desire to take, to plunder, he kept his touch gentle—coaxing and seductive rather than forceful. When her lips parted under the gentle pressure of his, he teased them with his tongue, nipping at the plump curve of her lower lip. But there was nothing that prepared him for when she returned his kiss, when she mimicked those same strategies.
But there was no time to ponder it further. The hack was slowing to a stop. They had arrived.
Easing back from her, Winn straightened her hair, tucking one wayward strand behind her ear. “Not an aberration then.”
“So it would seem,” she said, looking somewhat poleaxed by the whole experience. “I always thought kissing was something done as a sign of affection… as a sweet gesture.”
“It can be. But it can also be so much more,” he answered, taking note of her slightly panicked expression. Taking pity on her, he said, “Come on, then. No more kissing or talk of kissing, not today at any rate. We should get inside and see what catastrophe awaits us.”
Winn stepped down from the carriage and reached back to assist her. Holding her gloved hand in his, even for that brief moment, brought home to him just how true his earlier statement had been. Somehow, she had invaded every aspect of his being. No part of him remained unaffected by her—heart, mind, body and soul.
*
Effie waited patiently in the small coffee house near the Royal Arcade. She knew the moment he walked in. So perfectly attuned to him was she, she could feel his presence. As he approached, she took a deep and steadying breath. When he rounded the table and took a seat at the one adjacent to hers, she knew he did so for her benefit. He was mindful of her reputation at all times.
“You summoned,” Highcliff said, his voice deep and rumbling.
“I asked you to join me,” Effie pointed out. “That’s hardly the same thing.”
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