Having her so close—and yet, so far, it just might kill him.
He had never given much thought to the ghosts that inhabited this place, although he knew that the locals had. In the past, they had been easy to live with—but since the night of Isolde’s death, the activity had become problematic, even menacing, and as a result, the locals had come to fear this house.
No matter what he thought, it had no bearing on what others believed. The locals feared this house. They had done, since the death of his brother-in-law. Many believed he had killed him, and Finn would go to his grave, before he confessed the true nature of that bastard’s death.
The authorities had ruled it a tragic accidental death. He had made it quite clear to those who worked for him that they were not to speak of the circumstances surrounding the death of Eugene Penberthy, 6th Earl of Sefton, and if that gossip should reach his ears, he had told his housekeeper and his butler in no uncertain terms, that the individual responsible for it would be promptly dismissed.
Nonetheless, what he could control inside of his house, he could not control outside of it. The town of Penryn, was rife with gossip concerning Conan’s death, and it reached beyond Penryn. It reached so far that he had had to advertise for a governess in newspapers across the country, and that is how they had managed to find Miss Massey. He wasn’t sorry for it. He would have done anything to bring the woman standing before him into his world.
Sometimes, he wondered if he should have taken the girls back to their family seat in Yorkshire, and yet he couldn’t imagine Miranda being able to live so far from Cornwall, and when it came right down to it, he didn’t even know if Cordelia would be able to live there. It was foreign to them, and they had already had their world turned upside down, if he took them away from all that they knew, he might just do more harm than good.
He regarded Ruby steadily for a few more silent moments. He would never get enough of simply looking at her. His eyes drank in every part of her. If only she weren’t wearing a cloak…he wanted to see what was underneath the mousy brown thing. He wanted to see Ruby in a vibrant red ball gown that would show off all of her womanly charms.
Mrs. Teague kept sighing, but she had not uttered one word since he chastised her.
“I…I think I shall be able to handle it all, sir,” Ruby said, her voice trembling slightly with nervousness. “I confess, I have had encounters with ghosts before, and as you see, I stand here, sound of mind, and body. It unsettled me a bit at the time, but it wasn’t a threatening apparition. Indeed, it had come to warn us of impending danger.”
That satisfied him. “In that case, I do believe, Miss Massey that you are certainly the woman for the job. My nieces seem quite smitten with you. I haven’t seen Miranda seem so happy with someone since the death of their dear mother, my sister, Lady Isolde.” He could not think of his sister as being Lady Sefton. “To him, she would always be Lady Isolde. She has given you her approval, so I have little choice but to do so as well. Now then, Mrs. Teague, show Miss Massey to her chambers. If you find them not suiting your needs, we shall find another bedchamber for you.”
“I trust I am close to the girls?” she asked timidly.
“Aye, you are close enough.”
*****
“Come along, Miss Massey,” Mrs. Teague said impatiently. “The sun shall set soon, and I would like to get you sorted, so I can go and finish up my work for the day. Come tomorrow, you shall have charge of Lady Miranda and Lady Cordelia’s education, and with the nursemaids to help you, you shall have quite the job ahead of you. I shall finally be free of the little devils. I pray I shan’t have to see much of them at all, after tonight,” Mrs. Teague said, smiling broadly.
“Surely…surely, they can’t be that much trouble? Surely, they are little angels…not little devils?” Ruby asked, as she followed Mrs. Teague up the stairs. The footmen had carried her luggage in, and she surmised that they had already delivered it to her room.
“Whether or not they are much trouble, or whether they are angelic or devilish, I shall leave for you to judge. I think they are too much trouble, as housekeeper, minding them hardly falls to me, and yet…we have little choice in the matter, when there is no one else suitable for such a menial task. The nursemaids do their best, but alas, they are not allowed to take them in hand. I try…but there is only so much I can do without earning the ire of His Grace. I only have one word of caution for you, Miss Massey. The Duke might seem stern and cross at the best of times, but he is exceedingly protective of his young charges, and he loves them as his own children. He will not allow you to treat them too harshly, and he will check in upon your progress with them when you least expect it. So, always, always, keep that in mind. He didn’t like the last governess. He didn’t approve of her teaching methods. I thought she was quite a sweet woman, he did not.
“As you see, the Duke is rather young, and quite handsome. I would not let his fine eyes, and his pleasing visage impact upon you much, Miss Massey. It is believed, he shall marry a woman of noble birth and fortune…not someone of reduced circumstances such as yourself. While you might be almost equal in birth and manners, and while you have been properly educated, you must remember, Miss Massey that you have come down in the world, you are now the Duke’s inferior when it comes to worldly wealth.
“You are no longer his equal, and you shall never be so again. Even if His Grace has been extremely generous with your wages…just because you make two hundred pounds per annum, does not give you leave to believe that you still belong in his world,” she paused, and then continued, “Let me make this quite clear to you, you will never have the hope of raising yourself above your current position. You shall never become the lady of this house. You will never be his duchess. Is that understood?” Her words spoken in a tersely cold manner to cut Ruby deeply, and yet, it did not have the desired effect on Ruby.
“Oh, aye, Mrs. Teague,” Ruby said, rolling her eyes, and suddenly being profoundly grateful that the horrid woman couldn’t see her face. “I have no intentions of finding myself a husband while here. Quite the contrary, as I have recently fled such a situation. You needn’t fret, I am more than keenly aware of my current lot in life. I do not need you to read me the riot act.” Her words were emboldened. She had somehow found the courage to say things she normally couldn’t say. She supposed that the dreadful housekeeper inspired that behaviour within her. She inspired Ruby to get her back up, and perhaps, she should have taken such a stance with her own mother. Mayhap, if she had done that she could have saved herself a world of grief.
They finally reached the top of the main staircase, and Mrs. Teague turned, and led her up another stairwell to where the nursery, schoolroom, and presumably, her chambers were located.
“Hearing that you are not searching for a husband puts my mind at ease. As for your obstinacy, do not challenge me, Miss Massey. I can make your life easy here, or I can make it difficult. I have an assured position within this household, as my late husband was a distant relative of the Duke’s. I would hate to find out that you are, indeed, a bad egg. I warned His Grace against engaging you without proper references, and without meeting you, but he could not be dissuaded. He wanted to give you a chance. I pray he won’t find out he was wrong about you, but if he does, he shall see that he should have listened to my wise counsel. And I am quite relieved to hear that you have no intentions of catching the duke.”
“You and I both,” she said softly. “I…I meant what I wrote in my correspondence. I have full intentions of remaining a spinster.”
“Good, good. Besides, you are hardly the sort of woman that would turn the Duke’s head. Indeed, you are quite the opposite. You aren’t exactly cut from the cloth that would suit a duchess. Someone as young as you can hardly be considered a spinster…yet. Give it a few years, my dear, and everyone shall consider you a spinster, or if you prefer, old maid. And then, well then, no man will want you. Not a duke or even a miner,” she tittered out a little odd sounding laugh that a
lmost turned Ruby’s stomach.
Mrs. Teague seemed to come by her cutting tongue naturally. She probably only abandoned it whenever the Duke was within earshot.
“Ah, here we are,” Mrs. Teague said, showing her into the bedchamber. “We freshened it up a bit for you. If you desire, I shall send up some hot water so you can wash the dust of the road off you.”
A crackling fire burned in the fireplace. Ruby wanted desperately to go over and warm her bottom. She felt chilled right down to the bone. The bedchamber wasn’t exactly as richly furnished, as she was accustomed, but it would do. Despite its sparse furnishings, she felt at home.
“That would be delightful. Thank you.”
Mrs. Teague nodded her head. “And your dinner shall be sent up shortly as well. I think Mrs. Chegwin has prepared a nice squab pie for us, and the pudding will most likely have something to do with apples, or possibly some fairing biscuits, which you would know as gingerbread, as Mrs. Chegwin is fond of making that for us.
“A maid will come by with a warming pan when it comes time for you to retire, you need only ring for her. The family has always been extremely considerate when it comes to their governesses. They treat them almost as if they were family—I suppose they treat them as poor relations. Something I am certain you might know about, as you probably were that poor relation. If only the Duke hadn’t dismissed the last governess. Miss Jameson was such a dear little thing. I wish he hadn’t sacked her, but alas what can you do? I am only the housekeeper, and I do know my place. Something you will be wont to learn, Miss Massey.”
Ruby’s stomach growled hungrily. She wanted the woman to leave, posthaste. She had had quite enough of her incessant prattling. She wanted Mrs. Teague to scurry away, like the rat she was, so she could finally sit down and relax. She was having a hard time remaining stoic, as all wanted was to sit down and reflect upon her current lot in life. She had asked for this, and there was no way she could turn back now.
“And now, I shall take my leave,” Mrs. Teague said, walking back over to stand by the door. “One more thing, Miss Massey. Do not pay any mind to what His Grace said. He was only trying to give you a bit of a fright. There are no such things as ghosts, and this house is about as haunted as the Tower of London.”
Ruby bit her lip, to keep from changing her expression. She doubted the Tower of London was free of ghosts, but Mrs. Teague could think whatever she pleased.
“I married a Cornish man,” Mrs. Teague said, sighing heavily. “I am not originally from these parts, and you will find that the locals here believe in all manner of nonsensical things that simply do not exist. They think that little people are real…they believe in pixies, or piskeys, and buccas, giants, and ghosts. I call it all fustian nonsense, and I shan’t have you believing it as well. Do you hear me, Miss?”
“Yes, Mrs. Teague. I am rather tired. So if you could leave me alone to collect my bearings, I would be ever so grateful.”
Mrs. Teague looked uncertainly at her, as if she didn’t believe her, shook her head, sighed heavily, and finally said, “Of course. I shall bid you goodnight.”
Letting out a shattering sigh, Ruby took her cloak off, set it aside, and pulled off her gloves, and went over to warm herself by the fire. After she had warmed up, she sank into a chair. She looked toward the window, and sighed again, as her eyes settled on the slowly setting sun. She felt as if she could sleep for days, and yet, the children would probably be up at the bloody crack of dawn, and she would have to take over her responsibilities as their governess at some point. She didn’t know if she could keep them inside in the schoolroom. If the day were a glorious one, she would take them outside, to get some fresh air. She had been in a carriage for so long over the last few days that she yearned to explore the gardens on the estate, and the two Orchards, and any other treasures the estate contained. Maybe she could convince the girls to give her a tour.
Oh, how she could continue to fall in love with this place. Strangely enough, it had already bewitched her. The surrounding lands called to her, and the house itself captivated her. If there were indeed ghosts in residence here, she prayed they were of the friendly sort.
Perhaps, she should have agreed with Mrs. Teague. Staying here might be the costliest mistake she had ever made. Mayhap, she should flee before this place took hold of her heart completely, and she lost herself more than she could ever hope to do. She could pay for her fare back to Wiltshire, and once there, she could accept the advances of either Lord Prescott, or Lord Cedric Wisdom.
Mrs. Teague’s stern warning against attempting to become leg-shackled to the Duke lingered in her mind. It had affected her just a little. She couldn’t become involved with him. She just could not. No matter how tempting the thought. He was the first man that had turned her head. He was the first man that had sent her world tilting. He was the first man who had touched her heart.
If Mrs. Teague found that out…if she found out that she had run from those suitors only to find herself facing the prospect of marrying a man she couldn’t stand…why she would think she was here with the intentions of landing herself both a title and a fortune.
No one could ever know that she had once rubbed elbows with other members of the ton. None could ever suspect that she had been pursued by a penniless duke, and older duke, the son of a marquess, and a baron.
The way the Duke looked at her made her skin tingle, as she reflected back on it. His gaze made her feel something quite foreign. She hadn’t felt that way when a man looked at her before. Her skin crawled whenever the man that her mother wanted her to marry laid eyes upon her. He had always made her want to run screaming from the room. Any fate other than becoming his wife was what she wanted.
No other man had stirred her heart the way the Duke of Camblesforth did. When she had been around the Duke of Stoneleigh, Freddie’s father, Lord Cedric, or Lord Prescott, her heart hadn’t been affected in such a profound way. Maybe Mrs. Teague had cause to be concerned. Maybe she had reason to worry.
Still, with her weak resolve, if she did have feelings for him, she would never be able to act upon them. It just wasn’t her way. She was here for only one purpose—she was here to educate his two young nieces.
She was the governess…nothing more, and nothing less. She had to continue moving forward. She couldn’t look back now. She had come too far to have it all ruined.
She had run from everything and everyone she had ever known. She had run from all that she had loved. She wouldn’t miss her mother, but she would miss her uncle, and she would miss going to Wiltshire to visit everyone who cared about her there…and yet, that was all behind her.
Her life was now here in Cornwall.
She couldn’t go back—could she?
Then, it dawned her. Now…now…she was on her own. No one would miss her if she fell ill and died. No one would mourn her.
She was alone.
Well, and truly alone.
She didn’t know whether or not to be despaired or elated.
Chapter Five
Finn couldn’t stop thinking about Miss Massey…or Ruby. She suited her Christian name, even though she had a diminutive build, and a personality to match. She didn’t have to be of a gregarious personality to shine like the beautiful jewel she had been named after.
He wanted her with him. The fact that he was so besotted with her, did surprise him. He had never put much credence into the love at first sight rubbish, but now…now, he believed in it with his whole heart.
He desired to see her, and listen to her sweet voice. He knew that she was probably quite shattered, but that didn’t stop him from coveting her company. He was almost tempted to go up to her bedchamber and demand she come down to have dinner with him.
He had been dining alone for such a long time, that he craved the company of a woman who could meet him at his own level. He wanted a woman who could fit into his world, without disrupting it too much. Most of all, he wanted a woman who wouldn’t beg him to leave Cornwall.
/> Most in the ton, would believe that he was mad to make this house his main residence, and many women within his own class would balk at having to abandon what they thought was the civilized world, for this wildly untamed county.
His thoughts went again to Giselle. She had so loved London. Even if he had asked her to accompany him, he doubted she would have agreed to leave the bustling metropolis. He had been seduced by the sins of London, after he had returned from the Wars, and sought to build a life for himself outside of the Royal Navy. Seeking to drink away the memories of the Wars, gamble them away, and lose himself in the pleasures that Town contained.
Giselle Brant had been the widow of a soldier of limited fortune, and she had been forced to entertain men, to keep herself from being out on the street. Finn had plucked her from one of the upper class establishments on King’s Street that offered women to his class for a price. He had first met Giselle at one of the gambling hells he had frequented. She had been with another lord, a Lord Lumley, if his memory served, and somehow, they had found a way to have a word alone. He had been instantly smitten, and she had used all of her womanly wiles on him. She had told him that Lord Lumley was about to give her the boot, and that she would have to find employment at an establishment on King’s Street. They had parted, but he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. He had been so enthralled by her that he’d been motivated to seek her out, and take her as his mistress.
A spark had burned brightly between them…for a while anyway. It had started to fizzle out about six months before he had left her. During that time, he had awakened from her bewitching spell, and had started to realize how shallow and selfish she had been. Her love spell had started to shatter because what he had felt for her hadn’t been love—it had been lust. But oh, how his rakish behaviour, now appalled him. He was shocked by his former lack of propriety. He had had absolutely no morals, and had used his mistress well for whatever sort of pleasure she could give him.
His Bewitching Jewel (A Regency Holiday Romance Book 7) Page 4