The Cinderella Governess

by Georgie Lee

  ‘Major Preston, what are you doing here?’ Lord Helmsworth demanded. She’d never met the man, but his voice sounded familiar.

  ‘I came to see Vicar Carlson,’ Luke answered as if giving him the time. She envied his steady nerves. Hers were running wild.

  ‘Liar. You knew he was leaving, everyone did. You’re here with a woman. Where is she?’ Lord Helmsworth stomped past the cupboard and Joanna froze as she heard the door to another room creak open on its hinges. ‘I thought I saw someone with you through the window.’

  ‘There’s no one here but the two of us.’ Luke’s voice revealed nothing while Joanna swallowed hard against a dry throat.

  ‘Typical military man. This isn’t a place for your secret trysts.’

  Lord Helmsworth thundered past the cupboard, making the door rattle before another door creaked open, this one too close to where Joanna hid. One more door and he’d find her. Her laughter with Luke and their easy conversation seemed so much more perilous than before. Even with her heart pounding in her ears, she didn’t regret it. He was no Lieutenant Foreman, escaping from a woman in order to save himself the moment they were discovered. He’d find a way to keep her safe, just as he had the night of the ball. He wouldn’t abandon her.

  ‘I didn’t come here for a tryst,’ Luke answered, still polite and calm. ‘Given your friendship with Vicar Carlson, I’d hoped he could help us to resolve the land dispute.’

  Lord Helmsworth finally gave up his frenzied search. ‘There is no dispute. The last land survey—’

  ‘The one you paid to have conducted and then refused to allow my family to observe?’ Luke challenged.

  ‘It doesn’t matter who paid. The surveyor took the measurements and he said the land along with the river is mine—and it will remain so.’

  Luke wasn’t so easily dissuaded. Lord Helmsworth’s arrival was both annoying and fortuitous. An agreement with him would smooth the way to a more pleasurable one with Joanna. ‘Then allow us to lease it from you, or to negotiate the use of the river for our fields. We don’t need to own the land to have access to it.’

  ‘You won’t trick me into parting with it or anything on it.’ Lord Helmsworth crossed his arms as if to say the discussion was over. With his blue eyes narrowed, their colour strikingly similar to Joanna’s, it was clear there’d be no rational conversation. ‘A captain cost me my daughter, I won’t let a puffed-up major cost me my land.’

  Luke opened and closed his fist by his side, determined to keep hold of his temper. He’d seen what Lord Helmsworth’s grief for his only child had done to the laughing gentleman he remembered from the Christmas party and he pitied him.

  ‘Were it in my power to punish the man who ruined your daughter I would, but I can’t. Nor can I answer for his crimes as they aren’t mine,’ Luke replied with more ease than he normally would have granted a man disparaging him and his hard work for his country.

  The anger in Lord Helmsworth’s eyes settled down to a more subtle roar. Luke waited, wondering if a touch of sympathy was enough to bring the man around to seeing reason. It wasn’t.

  ‘Get out of here and don’t bother me again.’ He stormed past him and out of the vicarage.

  Luke watched him through the window, disappointed but not deterred as the Marquis mounted his horse and rode off. Given the stubbornness of all parties involved, it was no wonder the boundary dispute had continued for so long. It would end with Luke, one way or another. Until then, there was another, more vexing matter dominating him.

  He tugged open the cupboard door and guilt racked him as the sunlight illuminated Joanna’s wide, nervous eyes. He’d never compromised a woman before, yet he’d almost done so today.

  ‘He’s gone.’

  She stepped out and peered around, as though still in danger. ‘What if he comes back?’

  ‘He won’t. Not given the speed with which he left. I’m sorry for jeopardising your reputation. It was wrong of me to do so.’

  ‘And it was wrong for me to go along. I must return to the house.’

  She rushed out the door and down the path.

  He stared through the half-open door at the dead and sagging heads of the flowers in the garden beyond. He could follow her, mount Duke and ride to catch up with her, pull her into the saddle and savour the sweet curve of her buttocks rocking against him with each pounding thud of Duke’s hooves, but he didn’t move.

  He’d followed her to the vicarage to tease out more of her true feelings for him. In the softness of her lips and the way she’d clung to him, he had. It hadn’t clarified anything, but had only made everything much more complicated.

  He snatched up his hat and settled it over his hair. Instead of strengthening the growing connection between them, their indiscretion had almost ruined her and had probably driven her away. He shouldn’t have been so foolhardy, but when they were alone together his desire for her was stronger than the need for caution. That was dangerous, especially for Joanna.

  He strode outside to where Duke stood tied to a tree. He grabbed the edge of the saddle, ready to mount, when the pounding of hooves echoing off the trees made him pause. Down the road, Edward rode fast up on him. His brother pulled the reins of his horse to a stop, his face grave as he stared down at Luke.

  ‘You must return to the house at once.’

  ‘Found another excuse to keep me from visiting Lord Helmsworth, have you?’ Luke hauled himself into the saddle. He shouldn’t be curt with Edward and risk another fight, but the setbacks in the vicarage had shortened his patience. ‘You needn’t bother, I’ve already spoke to him.’

  ‘This has nothing to do with him. Lord Beckwith has arrived to speak with you.’

  Luke’s heels halted over Duke’s flanks. There was no reason for anyone from the Army to come all this way to see him, except one.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Joanna stood against the wall across the sitting room, watching Luke speak with the newest addition to the house party. Lord Beckwith had created quite a stir with his unexpected arrival, throwing both Gruger and Lady Huntford into a tizzy. Thankfully, Mr Selton’s departure had freed a bedroom, settling the matter of Lord Beckwith’s accommodations but not his reason for needing it. If either he or Luke had enlightened anyone as to why he was here, it hadn’t reached Joanna. Lady Selton and Lady Chilton hadn’t heard the reason either judging from their conversation on the sofa in front of her.

  She was as curious as they were, but prudent enough not to approach Luke in search of an answer. Without one, her mind created plenty and none of them were good. The faint darkness beneath his eyes, the hard set of his features as he stood in deep conversation with Lord Beckwith told her something bad had happened since she’d left him. She wished she could cross the room to him and speak as freely with him as she did during their time alone together, but she couldn’t. She’d already caught Lady Pensum examining her and Luke on more than one occasion, as though she suspected something between them. Whether she disapproved or not Joanna couldn’t discern, but her mere suspicion made Joanna’s skin clammy.

  It wasn’t Lady Pensum eyeing her now, but Lady Huntford. Joanna dropped her focus to the woven swirls in the green rug beneath her feet. If the woman realised her efforts to land Luke for her daughter were being threatened by a mere governess, she’d throw Joanna out of the house tonight. After a short while, she dared to look up, relieved to find Lady Huntford distracted by Frances telling her something before quitting the room, but not Luke. He examined her, his need for her evident in his dark eyes. It tore at her to deny him comfort, but she must, especially with Lady Huntford approaching her in a flutter of purple and red.

  ‘Frances doesn’t feel well and is retiring for the evening. You may go to bed.’ Lady Huntford barely paused on her way to the game table to deliver the news.

  Joanna walked slowly along the edg
e of the room towards the door, aware of Luke watching her, but she didn’t return his questioning glance. Whatever was troubling him, there was no chance of finding out about it tonight. She meandered down the dimly lit hallway, unwilling to rush. She needed the activity to calm her agitation.

  As she reached the stairs, the quick fall of boots on the stone floor behind her made her turn. Luke was hurrying to catch up to her.

  ‘What are you doing?’ The question was barely out of her mouth before he caught her by the arm and pulled her into the shadows on the far side of the stairs.

  ‘I need to speak with you. It’s important.’

  ‘We can’t. What if somebody sees us?’ It was one thing to dally with him at the vicarage. It was entirely different in the main hall of Huntford Place. She tried to peer around him, but the staircase jutting out from the wall above kept them in the shadows. They were out of view of guests leaving the sitting room, but in plain sight of anyone coming down from the first floor. She wouldn’t put it past the twins, or Catherine, to be up there right now trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening downstairs. If they saw anything it would be the end of her time here. She must think of her employment and her future.

  ‘No one followed me. I told them I didn’t feel well and was going to bed.’

  ‘Then you’d better go to your room and allow me to go to mine.’ She tried to step around him, but he slid in front of her, blocking the way. It didn’t send a chill of fear through her as it had with Mr Selton. Luke’s determination to be near her and the bracing scent of his cologne overwhelmed her. She wanted to fall into his arms, press her lips to his and enjoy the weight of his hands on her back. It was a powerful and dangerous urge.

  ‘Please, we must speak,’ he implored.

  He should be turning to his family or someone else, not her, but the anguish in his voice pierced her and she couldn’t leave him to suffer. ‘Meet me at the vicarage in an hour.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He laid a lingering kiss on her forehead and she sighed, wanting to be with him now, to not even wait until they were safe. Let Catherine or Frances see them, it would be a relief to stop this sneaking around and admit to everyone how much she wanted him.

  Then he fled from the shadows and up the stairs.

  Joanna leaned back against the wall and pressed her fingertips against the smooth panelling. What was she thinking to suggest a private meeting? To do so meant risking being caught sneaking in and out of the house, or not in bed should some emergency arise with the girls. Lady Pensum’s earlier scrutiny in the sitting room had been a warning, and if Joanna was wise, she’d put an end to this little affair. She couldn’t, not before she found out what was wrong with Luke. If Lord Beckwith was here, it must have something to do with Luke’s commission. Perhaps he was going back to the Spain. If she didn’t meet him tonight, she might never see him again, unless he decided to take her with him. In Spain, they could escape the demands of his family and society, but she doubted it. He was too honourable to leave his parents to deal with their troubles, or to run away from duty. He needed her and she would go to him, but it didn’t mean she’d be foolish enough to compound her mistakes with the greatest one an unmarried woman could make. She was too sensible to forget herself, or so she hoped.

  * * *

  Joanna followed the path through the woods to the vicarage. Overhead, thick clouds filled the sky. The gaps between them allowed the moonlight and a few stars to peek through, but with the stiff wind pushing them together, the faint light would soon be gone. The smell of rain which had punctuated the air all evening was heavier now and seemed to dampen the forest sounds. Joanna pulled her pelisse tighter around her neck as the vicarage came into sight. She hoped the rain held off until this meeting with Luke was over. It would be difficult enough to sneak back into Huntford Place and up to her room without leaving a trail of wet footprints behind her.

  The first flash of lightning lit up the darkness as she slipped inside the vicarage and closed the door. Luke knelt in front of the fireplace, blowing the embers beneath a log to life. The curve of his back as he bent over the fire entranced her. She gripped the smooth door handle tight. Alone with him, it was only her own determination keeping them apart and it was already wavering.

  ‘Aren’t you afraid someone will see the smoke?’ she asked, worried, keeping the danger in mind despite her eagerness to warm her frigid hands.

  ‘No.’ He stood to face her as the rising flame sent its light out into the room to illuminate the chairs, the walls and him. His face was ashen, and his mouth tightly drawn.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Joanna hurried to him, stopping before she reached him. She was here to listen and comfort him, not to tempt him with her touch.

  ‘Captain Crowther and the rest of my squad are missing. They were surprised by the French in a narrow pass. There was no escape.’

  ‘Are they alive?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ He raked his hand through his hair, causing a few strands to fall over his forehead. ‘The commander hasn’t received a request to exchange prisoners or officers.’

  ‘Then they might have survived.’

  ‘Or no one has found their bodies yet.’ He paced the small room, his heels striking the floor. ‘I’ve seen it happen before, men slaughtered and left for the birds to pick at until another regiment finds them.’

  ‘You can’t give up hope until you hear more,’ she encouraged. His losing his friend would be like her losing Isabel, Grace and Rachel and she could imagine his despair.

  ‘I should’ve been with them. I know those passes and the local men, informants and sympathisers, all of them. I might have learned of the ambush, or found another way out of the pass before it was too late.’ He stared out the window into the darkness. Rain began to plink against the roof, lightly at first before falling hard and steady. ‘I could’ve helped them.’

  She slipped up behind him and stroked his back. In the face of his pain, she couldn’t remain aloof. ‘Or been captured or killed. Think what your death would do to your parents.’ To me. Her heart almost stopped at the thought.

  ‘Yes, they’d have been crushed along with all their hope for their precious heir.’ His muscles tightened beneath her palm. ‘I shouldn’t have left my men.’

  Joanna wrapped her arms around Luke and laid her cheek on his back, hoping to soothe the bitterness marring his words. She shouldn’t touch him like this, it was too intimate and enticing, but he was hurting and he needed her comfort. ‘Don’t give up on them. They may still be alive.’

  ‘And if they aren’t?’ He turned in her embrace and rested his chin on her head, his chest rising and falling beneath her cheek. She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent of smoke mixed with the faint heat of his skin. He held her as if she alone could provide the strength to hope for his friends. She would give it to him, as he’d given it to her.

  ‘Then make sure they, and the families who need them, aren’t forgotten. Speak with Lord Beckwith, the War Office, anyone who can make a difference to your men and their loved ones.’

  He leaned back to look down at her, the wild grief in his eyes settling. ‘It seems a paltry reason to be spared from sharing their fate.’

  ‘Not to those they left behind.’

  He brushed a strand of hair off her face before his hand came to rest on the nape of her neck, heavy against the faint exposed skin. ‘What if it isn’t enough?’

  She didn’t want him to doubt himself, but to be the determined man she’d come to adore, the one who’d stand beside her the way he did his men. It was the real reason she was here, risking everything to be near him. She wanted him, despite all her efforts to convince herself and him otherwise. In his embrace, so many things she’d yearned for at last seemed possible. ‘You won’t give up. It isn’t who you are. You’ll keep fighting until it is enough and then you’ll do more.’

&
nbsp; He rubbed his thumb against the fluttering pulse on her neck. Hesitation marred the smoothness of his touch and it made her breath catch in her throat. Like her he was wavering between holding back and pressing forward. Then, the frustration and desperation which had filled his eyes was gone and she knew he’d made his decision, and so had she.

  ‘I used to think duty and honour were the only things worth coming home for, the only things keeping me here, even at Huntford Place.’ He lowered his face so close to hers each word whispered across her cheeks. ‘I was wrong. It’s you.’

  The roar of the rain on the roof overhead faded as he claimed her mouth, his need for her deeper than lust. She didn’t dare call it love. It couldn’t exist in so short an amount of time no matter what the old fairy tales said. This was a bond between the two of them which eased her aching loneliness. It might not last beyond the sunrise, but she didn’t care. Only Luke and the thrill of being in his arms mattered. She hadn’t wanted to be a governess any more than he’d wanted to leave the Army, but she’d done what was expected of her. Tomorrow she would do the same, but tonight was for her, and him.

  Lightning flashed as he lowered her onto the chaise behind them, covering her body with his. The weight of him on top of her, his lips teasing and tickling her neck, were exquisite. Fire swept through her as he raised the hem of her skirt and traced the smooth skin of her calves, his hand hot against the cool air of the house. The faint voice of reason urged her to end this, but she ignored it as she sank deeper into the desire pulling them together.

  As he stroked the line of her thigh, she freed his cravat from the confines of the knot holding it closed. She drew it out from around his neck and dropped it to the floor. With hesitant flicks of her tongue, she tasted the sweet flesh of his neck, as curious as she was tempted by the play of his fingers over her hips. In this moment, she wasn’t the governess, prim, proper, mute and ignored, but shameless and free with a man who’d made her glow like one of the embers.