Ladies and Their Secrets: Regency Romance Collection

by Alec, Joyce

  “Should I leave you, your grace?” she murmured, as Lord Arthur and Sarah began to talk with one another. “I do apologize for the dancing, as well; it was only a few minutes of fun, I assure you.”

  Looking up at him, Sophia was surprised to find a curious gleam in his eye, as though a thought had suddenly struck him.

  “No, you may carry on,” he said abruptly. “Sarah, come here for a moment. Tell me, what dance was Miss Weston to be teaching you?”

  “The waltz,” Sarah replied, screwing up her face. “But I did not like it. I much prefer to do my own. I was being a butterfly, Papa.”

  Holding her breath, Sophia waited for the duke’s reaction, only to let it out in a long breath, as he laughed, patting his daughter on the head. “Very good, my dear,” he said, waving his hand at the pianist. “But I can assure you that you can be just as much a butterfly when you are waltzing as when you are dancing all on your own.”

  The music began to play again, and Sophia took a single step back from the duke and his daughter, thinking that he was about to lead Sarah onto the floor and show her some of the steps. However, much to her surprise, the duke turned to her and held out one hand.

  “I think Miss Weston and I shall show you just what we mean, Sarah,” he continued, his eyes still on his daughter, as he waited for Sophia to take his hand. “Your uncle may dance with you after you have watched us, if you wish.”

  Her throat constricted, as she stared at the duke, her heart quickening as her fingers hesitantly touched his. He grasped her hand firmly the moment she did so, as though not allowing her to escape, and they walked onto the dance floor.

  Heat poured into her face as he let go of her hand and bowed, just as he might do had they met at a ball. Curtsying as best she could, Sophia trained her gaze to go over the duke’s left shoulder, as he took her hand, jumping slightly when his other hand settled on her waist.

  “I assume you know the steps, Miss Weston,” he murmured, as he began to lead her across the floor. “No treading on my toes now.”

  Her eyes jumped to his, seeing the mirth there. Smiling a little hesitantly, she continued to allow him to lead, tension running through her limbs.

  This was not right. A governess did not dance with a duke, not even when they were supposedly showing his daughter how it was to go. She could hear Sarah laughing and clapping as they continued to spin around the floor, her mind filling with thoughts and anxieties as the duke held her tightly.

  “You must relax, Miss Weston,” the duke murmured softly, “Look at me, please. You are wound like a spinning top; I can feel the tension in your hands.”

  “I do apologize, your grace,” Sophia whispered, not able to drag her eyes toward his, as he had requested. “This is a little surprising for me.”

  He chuckled quietly. “That I can tell. You are a proficient dancer, I am sure, but you still need to relax. Look at me, Miss Weston.”

  It was a command, not a request, and so, with her heart hammering in her chest, Sophia returned her gaze to his face.

  His eyes were burning with a deep intensity, to the point that Sophia found herself entirely unable to look away. To her shock, he pulled her a little closer, a little too close given the impropriety of what they were already doing, and her breath hitched.

  Something flickered over his face, sending a warm darkness into his eyes. Sophia clung to him, feeling entirely overwhelmed and feeling such a stirring of desire and affection within her that she was sure he would be able to tell were she to continue dancing with him much longer.

  “Your grace,” she whispered, through lips that were barely able to form words. “I–”

  “Miss Weston,” he interrupted, his words soft and for her ears only. “You are a wonderful dancer. Indeed, there is more to you than I ever expected. You have blossomed before my very eyes, as a beautiful rose might slowly reveal the beauty of its petals.”

  The compliment was as unexpected as the dance, her mouth going completely dry as he looked at her, a rush of heat crawling up her spine and into her face.

  And then, the music came to a close. Sarah and her uncle were still busy dancing, although Sarah was getting none of the steps correct whatsoever, and much to Sophia’s relief, neither of them seemed in the least bit interested in what had been going on between Sophia and the duke.

  The duke slowly released her waist but kept her other hand in his. Sophia pressed her lips together as he lowered his head to her hand, his lips brushing the back of her hand as though she had truly been a lady at the ball, had truly been his dance partner for one of the two waltzes that would be played that evening.

  Sparks shot into her vision, her skin prickling as he held her hand for just a moment too long. Nothing was said between them, but Sophia knew that she would never be able to see the duke in the same way again. She had been in his arms; she had felt the heat rushing through her veins, as she had danced with him and allowed her heart to fill with a rush of affection that could never be returned.

  “Thank you, Miss Weston,” he said, his voice a little hoarse as he stepped back. “I do hope my daughter was watching.”

  With one lingering look, he stepped away from her and walked back toward his daughter, who was still being spun around by her uncle. Sarah laughed aloud and ran toward Sophia, catching her hand and dragging her back toward the duke and Lord Arthur.

  “My goodness, you are like a spinning top!” Lord Arthur declared, ruffling Sarah’s dark curls. “I am sure you shall be just as good a dancer as Miss Weston one day.”

  “I am certain of it,” the duke agreed, smiling down at his daughter. “Miss Weston is an excellent dancer and an even more excellent tutor, so I have no doubt that Sarah will turn out very well.”

  He did not look at her as he spoke those words, but the compliments brought Sophia a rush of pleasure.

  “Thank you, your grace,” she murmured, wondering when her heart would stop its furious thundering that had begun the moment the duke had asked her to dance. “I think it is time for our walk in the gardens, Sarah. Is that acceptable to you, your grace?”

  “More than acceptable,” the duke replied, lifting his eyes to hers. “Although dinner will be a little earlier than usual so that Sarah can join us.”

  Sophia nodded, setting her shoulders and drawing in a deep breath so that she might regain some sense of composure. “Of course. I will ensure Sarah is ready.”

  Lord Arthur cleared his throat, nudging his brother.

  “Oh, of course, I quite forgot. Miss Weston, next week I am expecting a small party to join us at the house. My brother has recently returned from his travels and wishes to be reacquainted with a few friends.”

  Not quite sure how this affected her, Sophia nodded and glanced from one to the other. “I see.”

  “Sarah will be asked to join us at times during the day, and during your daily walks in the grounds, there may be others present,” the duke continued, ignoring his daughter’s squeals of excitement. “However, I will expect her education to continue for the most part, you understand.”

  “I quite understand,” Sophia agreed, reaching forward and taking hold of Sarah’s hand so as to quieten her. “Might I ask how long they will be staying for? Just so that I can prepare for some disruption to Sarah’s lessons.”

  “No longer than ten days,” the duke replied, with just a hint of displeasure in his voice, giving Sophia the impression that he was not exactly looking forward to his guests arriving. “You will have advance notice of when and where Sarah is to join us. Although, most days, I shall come to fetch her myself.”

  A hint of anxiety began to rattle through Sophia’s chest as she wondered whether or not the duke expected her to join Sarah alongside the rest of the guests. She could not bear the thought of mixing with the beau monde again, not when she had been so removed from her status.

  “Is everything quite all right, Miss Weston?”

  Her eyes leapt back to his, and she nodded fervently, not wanting to exp
lain her worries to him since that was not the done thing. “Yes, of course, your grace. Thank you.”

  He nodded, a slight frown settling between his brows, as she pressed Sarah’s hand.

  “Well then, good afternoon to you, Miss Weston. Sarah, enjoy your walk with Miss Weston. You are to join us for dinner. So, for heaven’s sake, do not get yourself covered in mud or the like.” His eyes twinkled, as he patted his daughter’s cheek, making Sophia smile at the tenderness he displayed toward her.

  “I will not, Papa,” Sarah replied in a very serious voice. “I shall make sure to be perfectly clean.”

  “Of course, you will,” Lord Arthur boomed, chuckling. “Enjoy yourself, little one. I will see you soon.”

  10

  Try as she might, Sophia simply could not sleep. She had not so much as undressed, sitting by the dying embers of the fire with a book in her hand, although her eyes remained entirely unseeing as she looked at the lines within it.

  The hour was late and still Sophia worried, her stomach turning over each time she thought about the house party that the duke was to host. She was terrified that he would ask her to join Sarah at some point and that she would have no choice but to step into the room filled with guests, aware of just how lowly her new position was. What was worse was that she was now concerned that one of the guests might recognize her, aware that she was Viscount Brookridge’s sister, and that question after question would follow – along with a few mocking glances and scornful laughs.

  Sighing to herself, Sophia tried to untie the knot of worry that had settled in her stomach but try as she might to calm her fractious mind, it would not leave her. Instead, it grew all the tighter, sending her heart fluttering, as she thought about what was to come.

  “This is ridiculous,” she said aloud, getting to her feet and walking to the mantlepiece to fetch a candle. “You just need to talk to the duke.”

  It was much easier said than done, however, for the thought of talking to the duke and telling him her worries and fears was not something she had ever done before. She had kept secret as much of her past and her family situation as she could, not wanting to tell him the shameful truth that she had been turned out from her own family’s home.

  Patting the locket that now sat around her neck, hidden entirely by the high collar of her dress, Sophia closed her eyes and let the wave of homesickness wash over her. It was not homesickness for her brother, but rather a longing for the life she’d once had with a happy, loving father and a gregarious, kind-natured brother. How much life had changed!

  And yet, she had the blessing of Sarah in her life now. She was as loving and as sweet as could be, filling every day of Sophia’s life with happiness. It took away the pain and agony that had been tearing at her heart, making her smile all the more ready and her heart all the more open to joy and delight. It was only the prospect of the houseguests that dimmed those a little.

  “Well, come the morrow, I shall speak to him,” Sophia determined aloud, opening the bedroom door, and with a candle in hand, slowly made her way along the dark hallways until she found the library door.

  The library was one of her greatest delights in living under the duke’s roof and she could not help but appreciate her good fortune in finding an employer so willing to allow her to read his books freely. The novel she had been attempting to read had not caught her interest, and so, thinking that another book might help her to rest her uneasy mind, Sophia stepped inside and closed the door.

  “Miss Weston.”

  She shrieked in surprise, almost dropping her candle as she sagged back against the closed door, slapping on hand over her mouth in horror.

  “I do apologize,” the duke said, looking as horror-struck as she felt. “I did not mean to scare you.”

  “Oh, your grace,” Sophia whispered, trying desperately to get her breath back. “I did not expect you to be here at so late an hour. I do apologize.” Her free hand scrabbled at the door handle, desperate not to disturb him. “I shall return to my room at once.”

  “Wait.”

  The command hurried toward her, demanding that she let go of the door handle. She did so, her eyes closing tightly for a moment as she turned to face him. Only then did she see the fire burning brightly in the grate, the many candles lit around the room. Evidently, the duke had been unable to sleep also.

  “I would not have you run away when you are obviously in need of a good book,” the duke continued, as she turned back around. “Please, take as long as you wish.”

  Everything in her told her to leave, to hurry back toward her room, and to leave the duke in peace, but Sophia found her legs moving forward, her hand placing the candlestick down on a small table. Memories of how it had felt to be in his arms flooded her as she looked up into his eyes, aware that he wore no cravat, no jacket, and no waistcoat.

  “I shall be very quick, your grace,” she promised, hurrying to the other side of the room and as far away from him as possible. “I do not want to disturb you.”

  He chuckled and sat down in his seat, picking up his brandy glass. “You are not disturbing me, Miss Weston. In fact, I might be glad of your company for a time.”

  “My company?” Sophia repeated, finding herself a little at a loss as to what to do. It was not usual for a duke to spend time with his hired help, especially not when the doors were closed, and it was late at night. Embarrassment sent heat into her cheeks, and she fanned them with her hands, glad he could not see her.

  “Indeed,” the duke said quietly. “I cannot sleep because I have a great deal on my mind at present.”

  A sudden fear hit Sophia right between the eyes, her stomach tightening as though she had been punched. She slowly made her way into the light of the fire’s glow, her eyes searching his face. “Do you mean, with Sarah?”

  “Oh, no,” he replied, with a wave of his hand. “You are doing a wonderful job, and you need have no concern in that regard. I assure you.”

  “Oh.” The relief that flooded her must have shown on her face, for the duke laughed softly and shook his head.

  “My goodness, Miss Weston, do I not let you know often enough that I find your education of my daughter to be more than acceptable? That is a failing on my part, and one that I must rectify.”

  Sophia, not quite sure what to say, simply cleared her throat and smiled, somewhat tremulously, in his direction. Her heart was beating quicker than before, aware of just how very alone they both were. Was this, perhaps, the time to talk to him about the worrying thoughts that were on her mind? He appeared more relaxed than she had ever seen him, and that gave her a little boost of encouragement.

  “I think there is something on your mind also,” the duke murmured, lifting the glass of brandy to his lips. “Do you wish to speak of it, Miss Weston? I am not much good with advice, but I would be glad to listen.”

  Her eyes lingered on the brandy glass, half wondering if it was the liquor that had made him so at ease, but deciding that she could not allow the opportunity to slip away, Sophia came to sit down opposite him.

  His eyes flared as he watched her, sending a flurry of excitement into Sophia’s belly. She tried her best not to feel anything but respect for her employer, but could not prevent the quickening of her heart or the warmth she felt in his presence.

  “Your grace, you are quite right to suggest that I have something on my mind, for that is what has been keeping me awake this evening.”

  “Oh?” he queried, tipping his head to one side. “And what is it, Miss Weston?”

  “It is about your guests, your grace,” she explained, speaking quickly. “As you know, I come from a background of quality. For various reasons, I came to you as a governess – a position I am most grateful for.”

  He nodded, slowly, his eyes fixed on her own.

  “I was just wondering if you would require me to join Sarah when she is to spend time with you and your guests,” Sophia continued, lacing her fingers together. “I do not want to give the impression that
I would not do as you ask, your grace, for I understand my position here very well, but it is that–”

  “You are afraid that someone will recognize you,” the duke interrupted quietly. “That would be embarrassing for you?”

  Sophia nodded, the familiar ache returning to her throat as her mind turned to her brother. “I am afraid that my writing to you to seek the position of governess was not one of my own choosing,” she said slowly, making sure to pick her words carefully. “I am very glad to have come here now, of course, but at the time, it was thrust upon me and came as a great surprise.”

  The duke’s eyes grew curious, a slight frown between his brows. “You were given no choice in the matter?”

  Pressing her lips together for a moment, Sophia thought about what to say. The duke appeared to be interested in what she had to say, more open to hearing her conversation than ever before, and despite her misgivings, Sophia felt herself grow desirous for him to know her better, even if he did not speak much about himself.

  “My brother is Viscount Brookridge,” she said softly. “My father died a few years ago, and so he took on the title.”

  “I see,” he murmured, a slightly puzzled frown on his face. “I thought it might have been your father that had sent you to find such a position.”

  The ache in her throat became almost unbearable, as she drew in a long breath, steadying her frayed nerves. “No, your grace, it was my brother. You see, he married a little less than a year ago, and so, my position in his house became untenable.”

  A flare of anger crossed his expression, and he sat forward, his hands clasped firmly together. “Are you saying that there is no money for you? That your brother is almost destitute?”

  “No, that is not what I mean at all,” Sophia replied, realizing she was not explaining herself well at all. “My brother simply decided my future for me, so that I was not a financial burden to him any longer.” Lifting her gaze from the floor to the duke’s face, Sophia was surprised to discover that he appeared almost furious over what she had told him. “I do apologize if I have upset you, your grace,” she finished shrinking back in her seat. “Perhaps I ought not to have opened my mouth.”