The Rogue's Flower

by Rose Pearson

  “I see,” Miss Skelton replied, sounding somewhat disinterested. “Then next week, I shall have Miss Blakely at your door, ready to take on her duties. You will pay her, I presume?”

  “Of course,” Andrew stammered, still a trifle confused. “But, with all due respect, Miss Skelton, I have not yet asked Miss Blakely if she would be willing to take on this role and neither have you. What if she is to refuse?”

  Miss Skelton appeared to smile, her lips stretching over her thin face as her eyes glittered malevolently. “You need not worry in that regard, Lord Radford. I am sure Miss Blakely will be more than willing. In fact, I give you my promise that Miss Blakely will agree to your request and will be at your door a week from today.”

  Andrew frowned, still feeling as though something was a little wrong with this entire situation and worried that he was, somehow, putting Miss Blakely into an untenable situation. But then he recalled her beauty, the way she intrigued him so, and he decided to go along with all that Miss Skelton said, regardless of his concerns. To have Miss Blakely in his home as a governess, even if only for a couple of months, would mean that there was the chance he might be able to encourage her into his bed, which would then lead to her becoming his mistress. He could make it so that she had her own home, her own staff and was content in everything, so long as she continued to accept his affections. Perhaps all it would take was time.

  “Thank you, Miss Skelton. I look forward to having Miss Blakely as part of my household,” he said, with a broad smile, pushing away his concerns and niggling anxiety. “You will make all the arrangements, I trust?”

  Her smile broadened. “But of course, Lord Radford.” She gave him a small bow, instead of curtsying, which Andrew returned. “Do excuse me. I must speak to some other gentlemen in the hope of making similar arrangements for the rest of my girls.”

  He nodded. “Of course, I quite understand. Thank you again.”

  As Miss Skelton walked away, Andrew tried not to let the smile fade from his features as he thought about Miss Blakely and her supposed willingness to be part of his household staff. The way Miss Skelton had spoken, she had made it sound as though Miss Blakely would agree to it regardless of her own personal feelings, although he could not imagine the spitfire that was Miss Blakely to be so easily swayed.

  But, then again, perhaps that was no concern of his. He would get what he wanted and that was enough to satisfy him. In time, he was sure he could convince Miss Blakely to do as he wished. A short stay in his home as governess would prove that to her.

  A small, satisfied smile spread across his face as he tossed his concerns aside, refusing to consider them any longer. Miss Blakely would be in his house by the end of the following week and, in time, Andrew was sure he would get what he wanted from her.

  All he had to do was wait.

  Chapter Five

  Her face burning crimson, Elsbeth stepped into Lord Radford’s drawing room, her hands clasped in front of her as she lifted her chin and stared at the man responsible for her sudden change in circumstances.

  Lord Radford rose from his chair at once, a delighted smile on his face as he walked towards her, but Elsbeth did not return it. She did not want to be here. She did not want to so much as speak to this gentleman but, for her, there had been no other choice.

  “Ah, Miss Blakely,” Lord Radford exclaimed, looking her up and down. “May I say just how very professional you look. Quite different from last week’s ball, I must say!”

  Elsbeth bit back her harsh retort, closing her eyes for a moment as she felt Lord Radford’s gaze rake her up and down.

  “A governess, eh?” Lord Radford chuckled, as she opened her eyes. “Very good, Miss Blakely, very good. Come over here and sit down so that I can discuss your duties.”

  Stiffly, Elsbeth followed him towards a seat by the fire, which was warming the whole room on what was a rather cold summer’s day. She perched on the edge of the chair, hating that she had been forced into this position instead of being allowed to consider her own future.

  And she knew exactly who to blame.

  “Miss Skelton made all the arrangements, then, just as she said,” Lord Radford murmured, as a maid came in with the tea tray. “Now, Miss Blakely, if you would not mind pouring for us both.”

  She looked at him, one eyebrow raised. “Lord Radford, I am not here as your companion.”

  He looked back at her steadily. “Pour the tea, Miss Blakely.”

  Sitting back in her chair, Elsbeth folded her arms and looked back at him steadily. She’d known from the very first moment that Miss Skelton had spoken to her of Lord Radford that the man had more to his intentions than merely employing her as a governess. She could still hear herself shouting at Miss Skelton that she would rather die than work for that man, only for Miss Skelton to slap her, hard, across the face and demand she do so, else Mrs. Banks would be on the line.

  It was the only soft spot that Elsbeth had and, now that Miss Skelton had found it, she had chosen to use it to her advantage. Elsbeth had been forced to come here, forced to do what she did not want to do, all because she loved Mrs. Banks too much to see her come to harm. The thought of the lady out on the street, with no home to go to and no family to turn to for help had been too much and so, Elsbeth had been given no other choice but to capitulate.

  However, she was not about to allow Lord Radford to treat her as though she were a friend, a companion, a.... a mistress. She knew precisely that this was what he wanted from her, although guessed that he would never force the matter which was why he’d come up with the idea of her playing governess for a time.

  It does not matter what he wants, she told herself, as she kept her gaze steady. You are strong. Do not give in now.

  If she was to lean forward, pour the tea and do as he asked, then Lord Radford could very easily be led to believe that she was a weak-willed young lady, willing to do whatever he asked now that she had been forced into this position. However, she would not allow herself to be so treated. She would not pour the tea. She would take on her role as a governess with all seriousness, refusing to be treated as anything less than or as anything more than that.

  “Good gracious, you are somewhat stubborn, are you not? Lord Radford chuckled, with no irritation in his words. “What is it, Miss Blakely? You do not wish to pour the tea?”

  “I am not here as your guest, Lord Radford. I am your governess and, as such, do not require such things as this. This is to be a formal meeting, I presume, where you might lay out my role for me so that I might begin this very day.”

  Lord Radford shook his head and chuckled again, reaching for the teapot so that he might pour the tea for them both.

  “There, you see,” he grinned, handing her a cup which she had no choice but to take. “You need not be so stiff, Miss Blakely. This is a formal meeting, yes, but we can still drink tea and discuss your role, can we not?”

  Elsbeth said nothing but sipped her tea carefully, finding the brew refreshing and yet feeling more and more uncomfortable with every second that passed. Lord Radford was handsome and being more than a little amiable, but she knew he was nothing more than a rake and a scoundrel, used to getting exactly what he wanted and doing whatever he could in order to achieve his aims. Just as he had done with her.

  “You do not seem pleased to be in my home, Miss Blakely,” Lord Radford murmured, looking at her thoughtfully. “I thought such a position was what you wanted.”

  A harsh laugh escaped her lips, seeming to surprise Lord Radford as much as it did her.

  “Lord Radford, whilst you are correct in saying that I hoped for such a position as this, I also hoped that it would be of my own choosing.” She hoped that he understood exactly what she meant and could see how she felt about it but, to her surprise, he merely shrugged.

  “Well, things are as they are now, and I expect you to fulfill your role here as a governess. Some evenings, I will require your company.”

  Her eyes met his, disbelievingly. �
�My company?”

  He shrugged again. “Yes. Precisely.”

  A lump formed in Elsbeth’s throat as she saw the arrogance flash into Lord Radford’s eyes again, seeing the way he simply expected her to do as he asked.

  “Lord Radford, I am here as your governess to whichever child it is that lives with you and nothing more. I will not be anything more to you.”

  “Then I will let you go from my employ.”

  A spark of hope shot to her heart. “Please feel free to do so, Lord Radford. I have other options which I can pursue, most of which, I am sure, will be greatly more tenable than the situation here.” Her words were forceful and sharp, her gaze direct and stance firm. She was not about to let Lord Radford dictate to her in the same way as Miss Skelton had. Whilst she could not return to Smithfield House, she would do whatever she had to until she was twenty-one. Whether that meant living on the streets of London, begging for food, or even taking up position as a scullery maid, she would do what was necessary. Anything except becoming Lord Radford’s mistress.

  He looked back at her gravely, his brow furrowing but Elsbeth did not back down. Lord Radford, despite being a viscount, had to understand that she was not about to do as he wished simply because of his title and fortune. She was more than that, whether he could see it in her or not.

  “You are something of a challenge, I grant you, Miss Blakely,” he murmured, after a few torturous minutes. “It appears my threats do not have any effect on you.”

  Swallowing hard, Elsbeth drank her tea carefully, trying to show a relaxed and calm demeanor even though, inwardly, she was fighting tooth and nail to maintain control.

  “You know what I want from you, Miss Blakely,” he continued, bluntly. “And yet you continue to refuse. I am not inclined to force any woman into a situation she does not want to be in, but I confess that I find you intriguing and that, as yet, my interest has not diminished. You will remain here in my house as my niece’s governess and, when I request it, you will come and converse with me. That is all I require.”

  Elsbeth wanted to refuse, wanted to shake her head and demand that he allow her to be entirely absent from his presence, but she was too weary to do so. This was, in fact, the best outcome she could have hoped for, given that she was now no longer expected to be in Lord Radford’s company of an evening, knowing full well what that meant.

  “We will only talk?”

  Lord Radford’s face split into a wide smile and, despite herself, Elsbeth grew aware of just how handsome a gentleman he truly was. His hazel eyes were warm and bright, his lopsided grin meant to charm her.

  “Yes, Miss Blakely, we will only converse. That is, of course, unless you decide that you wish to accept my other offer of coming under my protection.” He gave her a small shrug. “I can hope that, in time, you might choose to agree.”

  Her rage began to bubble again within her but, with sheer force of will, Elsbeth kept her expression calm. “I can assure you, Lord Radford, that will never be the case. I have my own life to live and I will not spend it doing another’s bidding. I have spent too many years of my life doing just that and I know precisely how it feels to be so boxed in.”

  The smile faded from his expression, a note of interest in his voice. “Is that so, Miss Blakely? Well, well. It seems you have everything planned out. What if something entirely unexpected was to occur? Something that would throw you off your planned path?”

  She rose to her feet, growing tired of him and his conversation. She was not about to start answering his questions and engaging in discussion with him about her private thoughts, hopes and dreams. This position, were she to actually be able to manage it for a prolonged length of time, was only serving to push her towards her goal. In a few years, she would be completely free.

  “I would like to meet my charge, if I may, Lord Radford,” she said, walking towards the door. “I would presume her to be in the nursery?”

  His eyes fluttered over her again, despite the fact that she was clad in a long grey gown that had a high collar and long sleeves, hiding her curves completely. “I expect so,” he replied, with a small shrug.

  “Do you not wish to introduce me to her?”

  It did not come as a surprise to Elsbeth that he shook his head, showing no interest in the child whatsoever.

  “She will take to you very well, I am sure, Miss Blakely. The nurse will do the introductions if they are required. Now, this evening, I –”

  “I will be very tired this evening, Lord Radford,” Elsbeth interrupted, highly aware that she was speaking to him as though she was his equal but finding that this was the only way she was able to deal with his almost constant demands for her attentions. “Good day, my lord.”

  Before he could say anything more, before he could insist that she join him later that night, Elsbeth had pulled open the door and strode through it, closing it tightly behind her – much to the surprise of the butler. She did not stop but made her way back to her own room, which was located on the third floor of the townhouse. It was not particularly difficult to find, given that the house was not overly large. Her heart was thumping painfully as she climbed the stairs, suddenly feeling a strong urge to burst into tears. Drawing in long, steadying breaths, Elsbeth managed to make her way to her room without breaking her composure but, the moment the door closed behind her, she sank to the floor and began to cry.

  Drawing her knees up, Elsbeth gave into the tears that had been threatening ever since Miss Skelton had informed her about her change in circumstances. She had not dared show even the slightest bit of emotion in front of Miss Skelton, determined not to break in front of her, but she had felt herself shatter inwardly. Having to say goodbye to Mrs. Banks had been the hardest of all, although, at least, Miss Skelton had allowed her some privacy in that regard.

  Mrs. Banks had been all concern, not understanding why Elsbeth had chosen to go to Lord Radford’s home, but Elsbeth had chosen not to tell her the truth, even though it had taken all of her strength not to utter a single word about Miss Skelton.

  “You don’t want to do this, do you?” Mrs. Banks had said, holding Elsbeth close. “I don’t know what’s going on, Elsbeth, but I can tell that something is very wrong about this.”

  How much she’d wanted to tell Mrs. Banks everything, how much she’d wanted to bare her soul as though, somehow, Mrs. Banks would be able to make everything all right! Instead, she’d kept her lips tightly shut, knowing that to say a single word about the matter would cause more problems. Mrs. Banks would either carry the guilt that was not hers to take over Elsbeth’s new situation, or she would demand to speak to Miss Skelton and, in the process, most likely lose her position. It was not a risk Elsbeth had been able to take.

  Her tears soaked into her governess’ gown, making large dark patches on the already dull material. She hated this feeling of helplessness, of feeling as though she could not do anything to save herself. Whilst she knew that she could leave Lord Radford’s home of her own free will, Elsbeth knew that she had nothing else waiting for her. Living her life on the streets of London did not bode well for a young lady such as she, even though she had told herself she would do it if she had no other choice. If Lord Radford made to put a hand on her, she would gather her things and leave his household at once, determined not to become the gentleman’s plaything no matter how much he offered her. She would risk the streets of London if she had to.

  “I am not that kind of lady,” she said aloud, her voice muffled by the heavy material of her dress as she rested her head on her knees. She had thought she was so strong, feeling braver than she’d ever done before as she took a hold of her life, only for Miss Skelton to reveal that she was not in control of anything.

  How much Miss Skelton must have hated her! Elsbeth still did not know the reason why the lady would push her into this situation, knowing full well of Lord Radford’s true intentions, but she knew it came from a place of sheer hatred for Elsbeth. And, through using Lord Radford, Miss Skelton had
achieved what she’d always longed for – Elsbeth to be gone from the Smithfield House for Girls.

  Wiping her eyes carefully, Elsbeth looked around the small room she was now to call home. It had one large window which overlooked the streets of London, and on the other side sat a small fireplace with no fire in it currently, even though the room had a rather icy chill due to the lack of sunshine for the last couple of days. Her bed was in the corner, much similar to the one she had slept on in Smithfield House, and there was a small wardrobe for her things. The maid had already unpacked for her and, as Elsbeth looked, she saw that her hairbrush, pins and ribbons were set out on the small dressing table close to the window. She shook her head at the sight, knowing full well she did not require any kind of ribbons any longer. That was not appropriate for a governess and she certainly had no intention of wearing any kind of frippery when speaking to Lord Radford.

  Her heart climbed into her throat as she thought of his demand that they meet sometimes in the evenings to talk. There was nothing she wanted to say to him and she certainly did not want to reveal anything about herself to the gentleman. He could talk as much as he wished and, whilst Elsbeth knew she would have to listen, it did not mean that she would have to engage with him. Lord Radford, she was sure, would talk a great deal about himself since that seemed to be the only person he cared about. He might hope that, in time, she would come around to his charms and allow herself to be put into a compromising position, but what Lord Radford did not seem to grasp was that the more he talked, the more he smiled, the less inclined she was towards him.