The Unconventional Governess

by Jessica Nelson

  “There is nothing to say.” She tucked her gloves in her reticule. “If you’ll excuse me, I must attend to Louise now.”

  “You stitched that woman?”

  “You know that I did.”

  “And how did you hear of her wounds?”

  A flicker of unease crossed her face. “A villager came to the house.”

  “I was uncouth to have kissed you.”

  Her brow rose. Such a fine, delicately drawn brow, little owning to the tough resilience of the woman before him. “As I recall, I kissed you first.”

  “Many women would be demanding marriage,” he said carefully.

  She laughed then, a pleasurable trickle of sound that smoothed away some of the worry he felt. “It is just a kiss, my lord. You must calm any sense of duty you feel.”

  At that, he grinned. “Am I right in believing that you are now telling me to shirk my duty?”

  “Nonsense. This estate is your duty. Watching over and loving and protecting Louise is your duty. I am not your duty.”

  He should be relieved. The uncomfortable pressure in his chest persisted, however. Patting his horse one last time, he gave the reins to a stable boy. “I will walk you back,” he told Henrietta.

  They left the stables, stepping out into the afternoon’s muted sunlight. Summer heat had not yet arrived and a cool breeze brushed past them in welcome. His house, tall, imposing, waited ahead of them, its Elizabethan structure reminiscent of days past.

  Henrietta walked with her head up, eyes forward. He soaked in the sight of her curved lips.

  “You are happy,” he remarked.

  “Yes, I was just thinking...”

  “Of?” he prompted. Nosy, he knew, but he saw no reason not to pry.

  Pink stained her cheeks and she kept walking. “I do not wish to upset you, but I opened the letter from my uncle.”

  “I see. He wants you to join him.” His gut tightened as he awaited her response.

  She shook her head. “Not quite.”

  He laughed, but it was without mirth. “I fail to understand why you were smiling, then.”

  “I should have opened the letter before we left London, but I am smiling because when he wrote it, he was preparing to leave for Bethlehem Hospital. They’ve a few cases they want his advice about.” She stopped, pivoting to look up at him. The sunlight hit her, highlighting the gold-streaked hair that peeked out from beneath her bonnet. Her lips were a soft pink, like the color of the sunrise on clouds.

  “You are smiling because he shall be at the hospital?” He tried to collect his scattered thoughts, but it was hard to concentrate when she looked like this, alight and happy. No pretense of boredom that he’d seen so often affected by the women of the ton.

  “Because he is near us.” Her dark eyes searched his face, begging him to understand. And he was trying, but remembrance of their kiss kept distracting him. “I have been saving to travel to Wales, but now he is only a two days’ trip back to London. If I leave soon...that is what I hoped to speak to you about.”

  “Leaving?” His brain was mush.

  “Yes, I can leave so much sooner. The funds I have been saving are more than enough to travel to London now.”

  * * *

  The expression on Dominic’s face increased Henrietta’s frustration. He looked blank, as though he didn’t understand what she was saying.

  “I realize that I have not answered your generous offer. It is with some regret that I must decline a permanent position as governess.” The sun beat against the back of her neck, hot and unyielding.

  Dominic’s gaze narrowed. The way the light hit his eyes made them glow like phosphorescent emeralds. She became aware of the sounds of bustling servants and whickering horses around them. Would they hear their conversation?

  “It is not as though I do not appreciate all that you have done for me,” she said quickly, conscious of an uncomfortable ache in the pit of her stomach. “I have a week or so to prepare, and to give you time to hire a new governess.”

  “Do you suppose that will be time enough for Louise to recover?”

  “I am not abandoning her. She is welcome to visit while I’m in London. Perhaps she will want to write me, and we shall communicate that way.”

  “Barbara wants to send her to a school on the Continent.”

  “You will be able to find another governess before then.”

  “You have not found a cure for what ails me?”

  “I have some letters of inquiry out. Mr. Moore is also doing a spot of research for me.” She paused. “You must not let your illness keep you from caring for Louise. She needs you.”

  “I will not,” he said roughly. “What if Old John makes it known—”

  “No one is going to show up and cart you off to Bedlam,” she replied, but her stomach sank at the look on his face.

  “Does your uncle know you’re coming?” His voice sounded as hard as the stone his eyes mimicked.

  She resisted the urge to shift her feet, but the pain in her stomach deepened and spread. “No, I’m surprising him.”

  “And if he turns you away?”

  “He would not.” She bit her lip, hating the doubt blossoming inside. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t already considered it, but surely he would not turn her away. She couldn’t stay with Dominic any longer. After that kiss, a memory that corroded her thinking, her plans, she knew she had to leave.

  Marriage had no place in her life and neither did romance.

  Dominic uttered a hearty sigh, and she wished there were crinkles at his eyes. Something to show he wasn’t completely disappointed in her.

  She squared her shoulders. And why should she care? She had only met the man two months ago.

  “Henrietta...” Dominic paused, as though subjecting his next words to analysis. Completely unlike him. “This has nothing to do with the moment we shared, does it?”

  “Of course not,” she said with a bit too much vehemence. She drew a strong breath, willing her pulse to slow and her hands to steady. “You hired me with the intent of steering Louise in the right direction while providing me the ability to follow my life goals. I never intended to become a governess for the duration of Louise’s school years.”

  The sun’s heat created an almost unbearable burden. Her eyes burned and sweat trickled down her back. “I am not abandoning her and I am not running off because of a tiny little kiss.”

  At that, his lips quirked into a harsh grin. “Trust me, there was nothing tiny about that kiss.”

  “If you say so,” she said stiffly. “Either way, I’m joining my uncle. I’m called to medicine, to helping others and treating their ills. Not—” she waved a hand “—this.”

  “This?” His mouth flattened.

  “You know...making money. Living off the labor of others. Wearing expensive clothing. God has a higher plan for me.” Her mouth was running away with her. This never happened. She swallowed hard, but it didn’t take the coarse rebuke of her words from her mouth.

  “And here I thought that maybe God might want me to take me responsibilities as an earl seriously. As an uncle, even. You are saying that what I do is frivolousness.” He stepped forward, closing the space between them.

  If anyone saw, they could misconstrue this situation. She moved backward.

  “Quite arrogant, Miss Gordon, and perhaps the first time I’ve ever heard you sound exactly like a privileged member of the ton.”

  “I must get inside. This heat is overwhelming.”

  His brows crinkled. “It is not hot. Perhaps your guilt stains your conscience and makes you oversensitive.”

  “I feel guilty about nothing,” she retorted.

  “Do not come running back to us when your uncle refuses you,” he said darkly, his eyes pinpointing her into feeling like a tiny, terrible speck of humankind.<
br />
  “He will not refuse me.” She would not allow it. Not if she had to follow him about like Smiles after Louise’s tarts.

  He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it even more. She wanted to smooth it down, to give it order. She could not, however. It was bad enough they had stood talking alone for so long in broad daylight, but to touch him could forever tatter her reputation.

  “You must not tell anyone about our kiss,” she said.

  If possible, his face darkened even more, became stormy and irritated. How well she read his emotions, when she had never before bothered to be attuned to how someone felt. Feelings were not facts. They did not bring a solution. They only muddied a situation.

  “Very well,” he answered.

  She blinked, her legs turning weak and sorrow invading her senses.

  His jaw jutted upward. He backed away from her. “I shall write you a letter of recommendation on the chance that your uncle turns you away.”

  She forced her head to nod, her lips to say thank you, but as he walked away, his figure wrinkled and blurred. For the best, she told herself.

  If only she could believe that.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Dominic slapped his palm against his desk. Too many bills, not enough income. Another, more insistent demand from Old John. That missed payment must have upset the crook. Dominic penned a terse reply, sealed it and set it in the basket for outgoing mail.

  Pressure weighted down his shoulders, even though just this afternoon his steward had assured him that in time, their new methods and machines would produce a greater harvest.

  He sighed, resting his head on his knuckles.

  Henrietta’s two week absence hurt.

  The dog, mangy little mutt, scampered into his office, sliding on his hairy paws. He jumped on Dominic’s leg, yipping. He patted his head. The dog yapped louder.

  Sighing, Dominic pushed to his feet. This had happened almost every day since Henrietta had left for London. Two letters from Henrietta had arrived in that time, both for Louise.

  He had gone over everything in his head a million times, and could not see a different path. Henrietta had been determined to go. She didn’t think they were worth staying for. Who was he to argue with God’s calling?

  Yet, he wanted to argue. An immense sense of helplessness grasped him. He pushed to his feet, following Smiles out of the office. Smart pup. He was leading him to a crying Louise.

  Anger surged. His jaw pulsed with pain, and he realized he was clenching it. He strode after the dog, who swished and slid all over the shining hallway floors.

  He was struck with how much had changed since he’d decided to become responsible. To care. It was painful and inconvenient, just as he’d always suspected it would be.

  The dog careened around the corner and he hurried after him.

  He found Louise hunched on a bench in the garden. Beneath a rose trellis. Henrietta often smelled like roses. Ruthlessly, he pushed away the memory. She was gone from their lives now. It was for the best.

  “I’m here to rescue you from your daily cry.” He sat beside her, patting her back and feeling less awkward than he had felt previous days. A week of back patting helped with that.

  She straightened, and he realized she held a letter in her hand. No, an invitation embossed with gold filigree.

  His eyes narrowed. “What are you doing with my mail?”

  “I saw it on the tray and took it.”

  Not a tear in her eye, but she sounded perky and an unnatural brightness lit her green irises.

  “Where is your governess?”

  “She’s taking tea in her room. A megrim took hold.” She said the last with entirely too much satisfaction, and a matching smirk.

  At least she hadn’t run this one off. Then again, the woman had just arrived yesterday.

  He took the invitation from her and read it. “I hardly know Lord Astley. I’ve seen him a bit during sessions in the House, but that’s all.”

  “I also received a letter from Henrietta.” Louise kicked her legs up, stretching them out beneath the sunshine. Her shoes, he noticed, were more scuffed than he expected to see on a twelve-year-old girl.

  Was he supposed to buy her a new wardrobe? Perhaps, but he had no idea how to go about it. He could ask Barbara, but it would only give her leave to press about taking Louise for the remainder of her life. He’d just had a letter from his sister yesterday, asking him if he really felt fit to raise Louise.

  “Louise.” He cleared his throat. “There is something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

  “Can we discuss it later? I’ve a much more important matter at hand.”

  He noted her mussed hair, the flush on her cheeks. Tawny freckles sprinkled in haphazard fashion across her nose. Anathema to any young lady entering her Season. Had she freckles when she first came to live with him? He could not remember.

  “Oh, Dom, that frown looks positively atrocious on you.” She laid her head on his shoulder. The imprint of her trust. He owed her more than he was able to give. “Are you thinking of Henrietta?”

  “No,” he choked out.

  “Well, you should be,” she said in a scolding voice. She straightened, turning her body to face him. She grabbed his chin and moved it so that he was forced to look into her eyes. “Henrietta hasn’t joined her uncle yet. He had to leave for the south of England on sudden business. She is staying with Lady Brandewyne, who is in town for the Season.”

  He pulled away, rubbing his chin. “That was a little too forceful, even for you, Lou.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “Finally you are learning to use the name I prefer. Now, Dom, I have made a plan.”

  He groaned, but within, a tiny spark had alighted. “Your plans alarm me.”

  “That is most unkind.” She stood and swirled around, then with a dramatic flourish, pulled another letter from her pocket. “This came four days ago. From Lady Brandewyne.”

  “To you?” he asked skeptically.

  “Not quite. To us.” She pressed the letter into his hand. “I shall summarize it for you. Henrietta mopes about the house and lacks any drive. She has gone to a few balls but failed to catch anyone’s eye, but that of Mr. Hodges. Who from all accounts is a good man with immaculate fashion sense.” She paused. “He follows Beau Brummell, you see.”

  “Then he shall be broke in no time,” he said drily.

  “They are great friends,” Louise persisted, waving the letter through the air as though brandishing a switching stick at him. “In fact, he has called on Henrietta several times. They have gone to plays—”

  “Alone?”

  “No, silly. All together. Lady Brandewyne approves of him.” Louise began to pace. “But, I ask you, dear Dom, if this is best for Henrietta? Who is this strange man?”

  “I know him.”

  “What does he want with our lovely doctor friend,” she continued as if she had not heard him. “We should investigate his intentions. Make sure they are honorable.”

  “Honorable?” He scrambled to follow her reasoning, while a forbidding discomfort kinked his neck.

  Her eyebrows crunched together and she put her hands on her hips. Her foot tapped the cobblestone. “Honestly, do you not understand what I’m saying?”

  He must have looked somewhat befuddled because she threw her arms up in exasperation. She miraculously kept hold of the letter.

  “Men,” she said in a voice that sounded just like Barbara’s. “I shall spell it out plainly for you then. This Mr. Hodges is courting Henrietta, and we must ascertain if he will make a proper husband.”

  The discomfort spread to his shoulders. He rubbed his chin, eyeing the child who had suddenly blossomed into a young, clear-thinking lady before him. “Henrietta does not want to marry.”

  “Oh, you silly, silly thing.” Louise tsked. “Wo
men are susceptible to wooing, and according to Lady Brandewyne, this Mr. Hodges thinks very admirably of her unconventional skills. It is doubtful he will try to restrain her from doctoring. If anything, he is encouraging her. Thus ensnaring her in his malicious web of romantic intentions.”

  Mouth dry, Dominic nodded. “What is your plan, imp?”

  * * *

  Balls were such tedious enterprises.

  Henrietta smoothed her silk skirt, glancing about the room for Mr. Hodges. He had said he would be here tonight to get the ointment she’d made for him. She was certain his trouble sleeping was due to his lifestyle and food choices, but he refused to listen.

  So she’d concocted a lavender liniment for his feet.

  People swirled about, and she caught sight of Lady Brandewyne in the corner. The lady smiled at her, and Henrietta reciprocated.

  She pushed her way through the crowd to the refreshment table. It had been almost a fortnight of boredom and loneliness. She missed Louise’s chatter and Dominic’s flirtatious grins. Sometimes doing the right thing involved pain, she told herself. She sipped her drink, struggling to believe that she was right to leave.

  If only Uncle William had been in London when she’d arrived, but he’d been called suddenly to southern England for a consult.

  She would see him tomorrow, though. Lady Brandewyne had confirmed that her uncle planned to teach a symposium at six in the evening. Henrietta would be there, bags packed and ready to begin her life again.

  She pushed away memories of Dominic and Louise. She could not bear to think of them right now.

  “Miss Gordon, have you the medicine I need?” Mr. Hodges sidled up to her, his crisp outfit and perfectly coiffed hair in keeping with all of Brummell’s guidelines. Rules Henrietta had recently become overly aware of, thanks to Mr. Hodges and his obsessive love of fashion.

  “Indeed, I do. And will you stop drinking hot chocolate in the middle of the night?”

  “Never.”

  They laughed as she dug the small jar from her reticule. “Then do not expect too much from this.”