“You didn’t receive my note? I know it was somewhat impersonal, I explained my father called me home. His letter sounded like an emergency, but it wasn’t—”
“I never had a note. Only the flowers and sketches.”
“Oh.” Rupert sucked in a breath. “Alice, you must have thought I abandoned you without word. I put the note in the flowers. I thought for certain you would see it there. I am sorry.”
Her smile returned, slowly like a sunrise, until her countenance had brightened. “You were so sincere before. I will admit, there was a moment when I thought you had left because you regretted what you said.” She moved closer and tucked her head beneath his chin. “I hoped you would come back. At the very least because I hold several of your sketches hostage.”
A laugh escaped him at her unexpected quip. Rupert kissed the top of her forehead while a golden curl stirred against his cheek. “I will prove myself to you, Alice. One day at a time. I will never abandon you.”
“Even if we do not suit one another?” she asked, voice soft as the brush of a butterfly wing.
How could he ever reassure her? Too many people had ignored her, cast her aside, put her at the edges of their lives and affection. Alice deserved so much more.
Rupert meant to give it to her.
“I have never met a woman who suits me as you do. It will be me, not you, Alice, who may be found wanting.” He closed his eyes, noting the rightness of how it felt to hold her. “I am a man of few interests, I obsess over ants and dandelion puffs, and I discard the conventions of Society whenever it is convenient to me. How could anyone put up with such a man?”
“Quite easily when he notices things like freckles and calls them adorable.” She lifted her head and placed a kiss at the corner of his jaw. How the subtle touch could make his heart thrum with the intensity of thunder, Rupert did not know. Perhaps there were some things science could not explain.
He placed a hand to her cheek, tilting her gently into the perfect position to bestow a kiss upon her that left him both satiated and wanting much, much more.
Alice sighed against his lips as he withdrew.
“Alice, I have given it some thought. With your permission, I should like to ask His Grace if it might be possible to bend the rules which govern your position. I do not want to court you in secret. I want everything to be above reproach.”
To his great relief, she smiled rather than withdraw. Her eyes gleamed up at him before she raised both hands to carefully remove her spectacles from his face. She settled them on her nose, adjusting the hooks behind her ears.
“I have seen the duke’s kindness for myself. If you promise I can be present when you inform him of your intentions to a woman in his employment, I give my consent. But Rupert.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I am fairly certain kissing a woman to whom you are not betrothed is already skirting a great many rules.”
He laughed and kissed her again.
Chapter 23
Alice returned to the sunken pond, where the children had started skipping stones across the little pool to see if anyone’s rock might make it to the other side. On Rupert’s arm, she blushed at the knowing grins of Lady Isabelle and Lady Rosalind. Rupert took his leave of their party.
“It would be terribly rude of me if I did not inform the duke of my return.” He gave Alice’s hand a last squeeze before leaving.
She watched him go, feeling all was right with the world for the first time since she had lost her parents. She turned to her charges. “Lady Isabelle, Lady Rosalind.” They approached, their smiles turning more hesitant. Alice relieved their doubt with a laugh. “Thank you for looking after the children in my absence.”
“Of course, Miss Sharpe,” Lady Isabelle said, tucking her hands behind her back most demurely. “Did you enjoy the end of the game?”
Lady Rosalind giggled and slapped a hand over her mouth.
“Perhaps I will answer that question later. When you are both much older.” Alice waved them back to their friends, then settled with her sketchbook in hand again.
She herded all the children back to the schoolroom for their small dinner, but everyone except Lady Isabelle and Lady Rosalind asked to go outside again to enjoy the cool of the evening before darkness settled on them.
“The baron and his family are invited to join the duke for dinner,” Miss Felton said, shaking her head over the disturbance in her routine. “I suppose we are to stay until nightfall. Perhaps if the children tire themselves adequately, we will have some peace in the carriage when we return to the Addington estate.”
“A good thought, Miss Felton.” Alice rose from her chair, ready to seek out her bonnet again.
“Oh, no need. You had them all of the afternoon.” Miss Felton rose, her pinched expression easing. “I suppose I could do with some evening sun before I am boxed up again, too. Come children.”
Lord James cast Alice a somewhat disappointed glance, but he, Geoffrey, and three of the baron’s children followed Miss Felton out the door. Alice fell back into her chair, most relieved. She picked up the book she had been meaning to finish, allowing the older girls to practice the art of conversation with their remaining friend.
But her mind wandered, again and again, to Rupert’s return. His kiss. His adoration of her freckles. Merely allowing herself to think of him made her toes curl in her shoes and her cheeks grow warm. His affection had not waned. He had not left because of her.
Where could his note of explanation have gone?
Alice looked to where the faded blooms still stood in their vase near one of the wide schoolroom windows. She rose and went to inspect the blooms. Really, she ought to have allowed the maid to remove them the day before, but she had been hesitant to lose the last blooms Rupert had sent to her. Even if they were sent for science, rather than sentiment.
They were from him. That had been enough.
“Miss Sharpe, will you play Whist with us?” Lady Rosalind asked. “Mabel doesn’t know how to play very well. We need to help her practice.”
Alice put the vase down and gave her full attention to the girls. “Of course. I would be delighted to help you, Miss Mabel. Will you be my partner?”
The schoolroom darkened as they played, and a maid entered to see to the fire and light more lamps. Alice barely noticed the passing time before the door opened, with Miss Felton leading the children back into the room. Alice glanced up from her hand of cards and greeted them with a smile.
“Did all of you enjoy your play?”
Lord James slouched into a chair near the door, scowling. “We were playing hide-and-seek.”
“Oh?” Alice looked to see the Addington children appeared unbothered, clamoring as they did to eat the last of the biscuits from dinner. She looked to Miss Felton. “Did something go amiss during the game?”
Miss Felton’s sour expression was back. “Geoffrey went amiss.” She sniffed and leaned over Miss Mabel’s shoulder. “Play that one, dear.”
The girl followed the governess’s instruction and won the trick for herself and Alice.
“Where is Geoffrey?” Alice asked, realizing he had not come in with the others. His mop of curly hair wasn’t even peeking around the doorway. When Miss Felton only sniffed, Alice fixed her gaze on Lord James. “Where is he?”
He pointed an indignant finger at Miss Felton. “She wouldn’t let me find him.”
Alice rose from the table, letting her hand of cards drop to its surface. “Miss Felton?”
“That boy is nothing but troublesome. He is full of mischief and of a poor temperament. That is what comes from being orphaned. No natural parents to keep him in check.”
Alice felt the eyes of Lady Isabelle, Lady Rosalind, and Lord James upon her. The baron’s children were oblivious to the storm rising in her breast, but apparently her charges knew.
“Miss Felton. Geoffrey is a child under your care. That you could leave him alone in a strange place, with night coming on, says more about your lack of compassio
n than his character. An orphan he might be, but that makes him no less worthy of care or attention. I will bring this matter before the duke and duchess, after I have found Geoffrey.”
Alice went to the door, snatching up a lamp with a handle as she went. The small lantern would have to do. “Lord James?” she asked as she went to the doorway.
He jumped to his feet. “We were playing in the meadow, by the woods.”
Though Alice’s center went cold, she gave a tight nod and left the room, shutting the door behind her.
She went directly to the nearest doors to the garden, on the ground floor of the house. As she passed the dining hall, hearing sounds of laughter and conversation inside, she hesitated.
There wasn’t a moment to lose.
Even if the woods terrified her.
Would anyone at the duke’s table care that a boy had gone missing, or would they see it as her duty to return him without causing a fuss?
She put her lantern on a table and drew in a deep breath. No one had fought for her, ever. She had been left in the woods for hours as a child, because her negligent relatives thought she would find her way home when she was hungry enough or frightened enough. A groundsman had finally come looking for her—an older servant with grandchildren she had played with a time or two.
Geoffrey deserved better from Alice.
She entered the dining room without knocking and strode several steps inside before she faltered.
The duke and duchess sat at either end of their fine table. The baron, his wife, eldest daughter, the earl, and Lady Josephine were all eating and enjoying their meal and wine.
Rupert sat with his back to her, but he turned before anyone else knew she was there.
And stood. “Miss Sharpe.”
The room fell quiet. Alice kept her gaze locked with Rupert’s and did not dare to look at anyone else. Her whole frame trembled at the brazenness of her actions, and she hid her trembling fingers behind her back. The duke had proven kind when his guest attacked her, but would he look upon her interruption of a formal meal with the same care?
“Geoffrey is missing. He might be lost in the woods.”
Rupert left the table and was by her side immediately. “How long has he been gone?”
Alice lifted her gaze to his. “Not long. He is all alone.”
“Gregory.” The Duchess beseeched her husband, and Alice saw the duke already on his feet.
“We will search for him at once.”
His son rose from his chair beside Miss Finchley, tossing his napkin to the table.
Miss Finchley’s high-pitched whine brought everyone to a halt. “This cannot be necessary. He will find his way back.”
Alice’s chest tightened.
“Miss Finchley,” the duke said, voice stern. “He is a child. Not a dog. I should not have him frightened one moment longer than necessary.” The expression on the duke’s face was not disgust, but certainly disapproval.
“Come, Alice.” Rupert took her hand, leading Alice from the room.
“The lantern—” She pointed to the table, and Rupert scooped it up. “We aren’t waiting for the others?”
“We will go to the stables and mobilize the grooms. The duke will want this organized, not all of us spilling out into the night to get as turned around as the boy.” Rupert cast her a reassuring smile. “We will find him, Alice. He will hear all of us calling for him.”
She hoped he was right.
Rupert’s opinion of his host improved that evening. When the Duke of Montfort organized the search party, it took him less than five minutes to make his plans clear. He divided the grooms and under-gardeners still at the castle, and all the footmen, into groups of two, giving one man in each pair the task of carrying a lantern.
Then the duke had looked at Rupert and Alice’s joined hands. His Grace’s eyebrows rose, but he said nothing. He claimed his son as a partner and took the center path. Everyone spread out, a distance of ten feet apart, and entered the woods, calling for the little boy.
Geoffrey’s name echoed between the trees, and lights drifted in the darkness like fireflies.
“Geoffrey!” Alice shouted, her clear voice a bell among the deeper tones of the men. “Oh, Rupert, I hope he has not gone far, or hurt himself. What if he tried to climb another tree?”
“We will find him, Alice.” Rupert held the lamp aloft and shouted the boy’s name into the night.
It felt like they searched for hours, walking through the woods in a straight line, until someone nearby whistled and shouted.
“We found him! Your Grace, we found him!”
“Thank heavens,” Alice cried, releasing Rupert’s hand in order to lift her skirts. She jumped over woodland debris, with Rupert close behind her. A gardener and footman stood together beneath a tree, lantern held high, looking up into the branches.
Alice stepped between them, looking up as well. “Geoffrey. Oh, sweet boy, you’re safe.”
Rupert came up behind her. The boy clung to a branch nine feet from the ground, his face white and streaked with dirt and tears.
“I-I-I was hiding, and I got-got lost.” Then his voice grew softer. “Am I in trouble?”
“No, dear.” Alice looked to Rupert. “Can you catch him?”
He handed her the lantern. “I can. You men, call off the search. We will fetch him down and go back to the castle. Be certain the duke is informed.”
The footman nodded and the gardener tipped his cap, then they went in opposite directions, shouting that the boy was safe.
“Geoffrey, do you remember me? Mr. Gardiner?”
The boy nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“I am going to stand beneath you. I want you to try climbing down, but if you fall, I will catch you. I promise.”
The boy sniffled and nodded, his little face adopting a brave expression. Slowly, the boy stretched his foot to a lower branch. He uncurled one arm most reluctantly from where it clung. Then he moved down a little more, and he managed to lower himself two feet before he slipped.
Rupert caught him easily, then held the child close a moment. The poor mite shook all over with fear and exhaustion. Alice relieved Rupert of Geoffrey to hug him tightly to her chest.
“I was so worried,” she said quietly. “When you didn’t come back to the schoolroom, Lord James told me you were missing.”
“I didn’t mean to get lost.” The boy held her tight, then he started to cry. “I’m sorry. Is Miss Felton angry?”
Rupert’s heart broke in two. The horrid, frosty governess ought not be allowed to look after anyone’s children if the boy’s greatest concern was raising her ire.
“The duke is not angry at you,” he said stoutly. “And his opinion matters most. He organized this entire search party for you, after Miss Sharpe told him you were in the woods.”
“The duke?” The boy fairly squeaked the title.
Alice nodded somberly, then took a handkerchief from her sleeve to wipe at the child’s cheeks and beneath his nose. “Come. I know he will want to see you safe for himself.”
She took one hand, Rupert took the other, and they brought Geoffrey out of the woods.
A memory came to Rupert, of Alice shuddering at the very sight of the trees, and in broad daylight. “Do you know, Geoffrey, that Miss Sharpe is quite afraid of the woods?”
She gave him a quick glance.
“She is?” the boy whispered.
“Yes. She came into them anyway, because she cares about you.” Rupert met her eyes in the dim light of the lantern. “And I love that she would do such a thing. I hope, someday, she might care for me that way.”
The boy actually sounded amused. “Lady Isabelle says she thinks Miss Sharpe is going to marry you.”
Rupert laughed. “Only if I am very, very fortunate.”
“It sounds as though I ought to have a word with Lady Isabelle about gossip.” Though she tried to sound unamused, Rupert could hear her smile in her voice.
“And Lord James says you�
�d better not marry her,” Geoffrey continued, between sniffles.
Alice sucked in a deep breath.
“Why would Lord James say that?” he asked quietly, meeting Alice’s gaze above the boy’s head.
“Because he doesn’t want her to go away. I don’t blame him. Miss Sharpe is too nice to get married.”
Rupert gave the boy’s hand a squeeze. “Don’t you know, lad? The nicest ladies make the very best of friends. And wives. Now, why don’t you tell me about your tree climbing? You seem to enjoy the sport.”
Alice remained silent during the rest of their walk.
When they arrived at the castle stables, most of the search party had returned, with more streaming in. Geoffrey’s eyes widened again at the crowd of men gathered, and several of them either nodded or winked in his direction.
“All these people were looking for me?” he asked, voice soft amid the many footsteps on the gravel and stone.
Before Rupert or Alice could answer, the duke’s voice rang through the stable yard. “Here is our adventurer. Master Geoffrey.”
The crowd parted and bowed as His Grace approached the boy, Lord Farleigh at his side. Alice sunk into a curtsy, Rupert bowed, and Geoffrey hastily followed suit.
“Are you well, Master Geoffrey?”
“Y-yes, sir,” the child whispered.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Alice corrected gently.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The duke went down on his knee before the boy. “I am glad to hear it. All of us must happen upon misadventure occasionally. The important thing is that we learn from it and try not to repeat our mistake. Do you understand?” His tone was gentle, precisely the sort a man ought to use with a child.
Geoffrey, overwhelmed and exhausted, nodded mutely.
“Simon.” The duke stood and motioned his son forward. “Why don’t you take Master Geoffrey to the kitchens and let them spoil him a bit. Every adventure ought to end with warm milk and a biscuit.”
The earl chuckled. “Nearly all of mine did at his age.” Then he held his hand out to Geoffrey. “Come along, Master Geoffrey. Cook will know just what you need.” With a trust born of exhaustion, Geoffrey put his hand in the much larger one of the duke’s son, then the two of them walked to the house.
Mr. Gardiner and the Governess: A Regency Romance (Clairvoir Castle Romances Book 1) Page 18