The Forbidden Passion of a Governess: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Lucy Langton

  “Gossip?” Emilia asked.

  “Indeed. The townsfolk are prone to gossip and nonsense, and if anything about the affairs of this house should be spread through town then I’ll know immediately that you are to blame.”

  “M’Lord, I am not one to engage in gossip of any kind.”

  “I do not think that you are the type that might do so, but nonetheless it must be stated. You are to understand that the goings on of Glastonbrook remain at Glastonbrook,” the earl said, leaving no room for questioning.

  He couldn’t help but heave a sigh of relief upon expressing that last point. He wished to keep Miss Stewart at Glastonbrook, under lock and key if he must. He frowned as he grappled with the notion that he wished to have her to himself. Such possessive longing was not within his character and feeling that kind of desire filled him with dread for what he might do.

  These cursed feelings. Perhaps she does not know, or she cannot see. I do not wish to frighten her, but I desire much to have her all to myself.

  *

  Emilia’s stomach flipped again when she realised the full meaning of what he was saying. Of course, the earl was referring to his dark and secretive past, but he was also talking of the previous evening. No, Emilia would not be able to tell a soul what had happened between them, nor what was to happen in the future. The Earl of Cunningham had made that abundantly clear.

  “Your secrets shall be my secrets,” Emilia said softly, then felt a warm flush come to her cheek. Yes, the statement had come out far more seductively than she might have hoped. Was she baiting the earl with her words? Emilia had never thought that she was the kind of lady that might do so.

  “The next item pertains to loyalty,” the earl went on, clearing his throat. Was he experiencing the same kinetic pull that Emilia herself was feeling? Had she been forced to guess, she would say it was true, from the pained expression on his face and his downward cast eyes.

  “What of loyalty?” Emilia asked, thinking there was no need for him to even broach the subject. She was loyal to him and the household, beyond question.

  “You are to remain loyal to me under all circumstances. I will not countenance any other behaviour from you.”

  “My Lord, have I ever shown otherwise?” Emilia asked.

  “That’s aside from the point. It must be stated clearly so that you can comprehend it. There’s nothing that I value so much as loyalty. Winnifred and Hugh have remained in this house for as long as they have because, beyond question, they are loyal. Since my sister was a young child, I bred loyalty in her, so that she might see me as the master of this house and of her future. So you, as well, for the time that you are here, will be loyal to me and undertake everything that I say. Is that clear?”

  “Perfectly clear. I think I’ve already expressed my thoughts about this. I could never in my life do anything to betray you or Lady Deirdre. My position in this home is of the utmost importance to me, and I would never do anything to jeopardise that. To do so would be to endanger my safety in this world. And my happiness.”

  Emilia considered the veracity of that statement for a moment. It was true, her entire life in that moment depended upon the earl’s kindness. Such was the station of a young woman in her position, that she was entirely dependent upon him and must obey his every word. Could she trust him? There was truly no way of telling, but something about the look in his eyes led her to believe that the earl was a man of compassion under all that darkness, and she could entrust him with her entire person. In fact, that was exactly what she wished to do. Body and soul.

  “With regard to my sister, I have spent many years understanding the duty that comes with my position. I take that duty seriously.”

  “And I am grateful for that duty, and the care that you take with it. I am without family and cannot anticipate a husband of my own,” Emilia continued. “And for all these reasons, I can do nothing aside from being loyal to you. And I believe that I can trust you fully?”

  Emilia said it as a question rather than a statement. She desperately wished to hear from the earl whether or not that was indeed the case.

  *

  After hearing that last statement, the earl searched out the window once more, gazing out as the rain gently glided down the panes of glass. It troubled him and filled him with heavy thoughts.

  It pains me to hear that she has no prospects in life. But she is here with me, and has nothing to fear. How can I possibly express that to her without frightening her away?

  “All of those who put trust in me are never disappointed, no,” he replied, still gazing at the window.

  He was overwhelmed by just how much more he wished to say regarding that point. He would protect her and provide for her so long as she remained loyal. It was all that he asked of Emilia Stewart, and for doing that, she would receive the world at her feet.

  “Then in that case,” she said, standing from her chair, “there is no need to discuss the matter further,”

  “I’m not through with you yet,” the earl said, looking at her sternly.

  She’s always trying to escape my presence. I won’t have it!

  “Very well,” Emilia replied, seating herself again.

  “There are more notes on the page,” he added, lifting up the paper to peruse it some more.

  “You’re very diligent,” Emilia said with a smile, teasing him.

  “You have no idea,” the earl replied, glancing up. His gaze remained at her lips for a moment, and then he smiled as well, looking down again. “In truth, I did cover everything on my list,” he added, dropping the page upon the desk. “So now I shall ask you what you need of me in return.”

  *

  Emilia was stunned. He was already giving her everything that she needed: the roof over her head, the clothes on her back, and the food that was placed on the table. But there was something that was calling out within her, demanding to be said in the light of day.

  “I wish to understand what it was that I read in the journal,” Emilia said softly.

  “And why should I tell you?”

  “Because, to trust you and obey you fully, it’s important to me that I know what has plagued this house.”

  Silence followed and the earl got up from where he sat, walking over to the same window where he was looking before.

  “You’re a very nosy and demanding girl,” he said.

  “I am not, M’Lord. I suffer from an insatiable curiosity, I suppose.”

  “You seek to undo me,” the earl said, as though the statement pained him.

  “In what way?”

  “In ways that you do not yet understand.”

  Emilia’s stomach flipped again and that familiar warmth cascaded down her spine. What was the earl implying? And what did she not yet understand? Would it be something she’d be privy to in the future?

  “If I tell you, since it already seems that you know much, you must promise to never tell my sister or anyone else in this house for that matter.”

  “I give you my word of honour, something that I have never broken.”

  “You read a passage regarding my parents, I would assume.”

  “That was the one.”

  “And did it frighten you?” the earl asked, his eyes turning dark and sinister.

  “I’m afraid that it did.”

  “I must admit that the events that took place frightened me as well.”

  “Please tell me,” Emilia said softly, coaxing it from him.

  The earl stood in contemplation and all that could be heard was the patter of rain. Finally, walking away from the window and towards Emilia, he sat upon the desk right in front of her and looked down at her. There was something about that posture that the earl favoured. Him hovering over her, locking her down, putting her in her place. It made Emilia at a loss for breath, and her heart began to pound yet again.

  “It was a morning such as this. The same storm clouds, the same thunder. I had come down to take tea and discovered my parents lying upon the floor
, pools of blood surrounding them. From the feel of their skin, it was apparent that they had been lying there for the better part of the night. How no one discovered them in the middle of the night is a mystery. But the even greater mystery surrounds the killer, himself.”

  “Do you not know who it is?” Emilia asked, the pounding of her heart no longer from affection but from fear.

  “The killer has never been discovered. There were years of investigation that brought nothing to light.”

  “Perhaps it is best to let it go?” Emilia asked, seeing how utterly consumed the earl was by the story he told.

  “It’s impossible to let it go, Miss Stewart, for reasons that I imagine you understand. This mystery consumes my every waking thought. My mind will not be at rest until it is discovered and justice is served.”

  “Is that why you so fervently study your pages each night?” Emilia asked, thinking of how the earl was always in the same place, lost in thought, as she passed by to go to her room at the end of the day.

  “Every day I read through my journals, looking for clues. Anything that might help me to understand what happened. Sometimes I think I hit upon something that is a clue, but when I go back to read that bit of detail I think that perhaps I’m merely losing my mind.”

  “You’re not losing your mind,” Emilia said gently. “These are weighty matters, indeed. I can understand why you feel the way that you do.”

  “Thank you, Miss Stewart,” the earl replied, looking down at her and clenching his jaw. Emilia could see need in his eyes, and hunger. The earl quickly looked away.

  “Did you suspect there might be foul play, before the murder? Did something in the house suggest to you that things were not quite right?” Emilia asked.

  “There were several factors that suggested that things weren’t . . . right, yes. But there is no evidence.”

  “And Lady Deirdre knows of none of this?”

  “She knows nothing, no. And I fear for her.”

  “That she might find out?” Emilia asked.

  “No, I fear for her safety. And for yours.”

  Chills went down Emilia’s spine and her skin went cold. Whatever did the earl mean?

  “The threat extends to me as well, but I care not for my own life. It’s those who depend upon me that are of the utmost importance.” The earl’s gaze met Emilia’s yet again and he inhaled deeply. Emilia thought that he might reach down to touch her. “I must . . . say a few words regarding last night.”

  “There’s no need to apologise,” Emilia said, before she even had a chance to consider her words.

  “I was not going to apologise. I apologise for nothing.”

  “Right.”

  “What I meant was that . . . I do not wish to frighten you. I want you to be happy in this home. And safe. I am often demanding and will have everything done my own way. Yet still I should like you to be . . . comfortable here.”

  The earl was carefully choosing his words, and Emilia was stunned by his sudden softness. In a home that was besieged with a dark past, could he really expect her to be happy and comfortable? Even though his story threatened Emilia’s safety, she had to admit that just being in the earl’s presence made her feel safe indeed.

  “I am comfortable. Even after a very short time,” Emilia said by way of reassurance. What she could not express was that the only discomfort that she felt was in regard to her immense attraction to her employer.

  “That pleases me to hear.”

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Emilia said, getting up from her chair, “I’m late for today’s lessons.”

  “Miss Stewart,” the earl said quickly, reaching out his large hand and placing it on her wrist.

  “Yes?”

  “Remember what I have instructed you, in regard to my sister.”

  “Yes, M’Lord.”

  Her heart was thumping and she was quite sure that yet again the earl could feel her pulse at her wrist. His hand was as warm and strong as it had been the night before. She wished to stand there and feel his touch a moment longer, but he quickly released her and walked around his desk, seating himself yet again.

  “Good morning, Miss Stewart.”

  “Good morning to you as well, M’Lord.”

  She made her way out of the study and back down the hall to the day room where Deirdre awaited her arrival.

  *

  Once more the earl remained in the study, trying to collect his thoughts. It seemed that the heart-pounding effect that Miss Stewart had upon him would not dissipate, but rather increased with each of their meetings. If only he could touch her again, to feel the warmth and smoothness of her skin. The Earl of Cunningham would dream about that for the rest of the day.

  Chapter 10

  The letter from Anne and Sophie Hutchinson arrived early Tuesday morning whilst Emilia was finishing her hot buttered scone. The contents brought an enormous smile to Emilia’s face. They expressed how much they missed their former governess, they talked of their excitement and also trepidation in terms of entering proper society, and most importantly, they invited Emilia and her new charge to a ball.

  Emilia had very fond memories of all the previous balls she had attended at the Hutchinson estate. It always warmed her heart that she was even allowed to attend in the first place. But such was the Hutchinson sense of hospitality that they would scarce allow their favourite governess to sit by and watch whilst all their guests dined and danced.

  “Were there ever balls at Glastonbrook?” Emilia asked Winnifred, who sat on the other side of the table and ate her eggs and sausage with relish.

  “There used to be countless balls here, in the good old days. I’d prepare all the food for ‘em. I have fond memories of that time,” Winnifred said, looking out the window dreamily.

  The storm clouds had cleared and the sun was shining in a way that Emilia had not yet enjoyed at Glastonbrook. She was determined that the future was going to be brighter for her as well. Since the earl’s admission on the previous morning, she already felt lighter, despite the dread that he instilled in her heart. Yet the mystery of Glastonbrook was troubling her no end, but the fact that he was candid with her gave Emilia new hope.

  “My former employers are to have a ball in one week’s time. They have mentioned that Lady Deirdre is allowed to attend,” Emilia said joyfully.

  “Do you think the master will have it so?” Winnifred asked, buttering a piece of toast.

  “He’ll be reluctant to say yes, but I’m going to do my best to convince him.”

  “He is a man who is difficult to convince, that much is certain. He holds on to his sister ferociously.”

  “I know the feeling,” Emilia replied.

  It was a slip of the tongue, but truly, Emilia was beginning to realise what it meant to be held on to ferociously by the earl. He was a man with a strong grip, both literally and figuratively, and Emilia could see why it was that Deirdre was so sheltered, and why she so much longed to break free.

  “I think we’ll be able to take a turn in the garden today,” Emilia said with a wistful smile.

  “I think Hugh might be able to tend to the garden. You’re going to be horrified when you see it with your own eyes. Covered in mud, I’m sure.”

  “Lady Deirdre and I can attend to it on sunny days. It would be good for her to learn how. It does something good for a girl to get her hands in the earth,” Emilia replied.

  “Ah yes. You wouldn’t believe how the sun used to shine over Glastonbrook years back. So many sunny days. I’d go out to the garden to pick fresh vegetables for tea and supper. Oh, but how you would have swooned if you tasted the tomatoes that grew there in the summer. Some of the best I’ve ever had in my estimation.”

  With the sun shining outside, it was as though the denizens of Glastonbrook were shining as well. Winnifred looked happier than Emilia had ever seen her, and once she excused herself and made her way to the day room, she noted that Deirdre’s eyes sparkled as never before too, and there was a
healthy pink flush upon her cheek.

  “It’s too beautiful out to read books,” Deirdre protested with a smile.

  “You’re quite right,” Emilia replied, laying down her copy of Collected Works of Sophocles.

  “What is your favourite thing to do on a pretty day?” Deirdre asked.

  “I enjoy picking flowers. And berries,” Emilia replied.

  “We shall do that and so much more,” Deirdre replied, springing to her feet.

  “Lady Deirdre, there’s one thing that I have to ask you about before you entirely divorce yourself from your studies.”