Falling for the Governess: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Abby Ayles

  He was best to face the villain with a calm and cool nature. He heard footsteps returning and reminded himself to take another steadying breath.

  “He will see ya right away, Your Grace,” the man said, motioning for the duke to follow.

  “I thank you kindly,” the duke said, walking in front of the man.

  The office itself was in a shabby state. It was not uncommon for the outside of these dock offices to look rather gray from soot and salt air. The interior of the office usually fared much better. This was not the case for Mr. Smith’s workspace. It was a large, disheveled mess with dirt and mold seeming to fill every corner.

  Mr. Smith himself sat behind a large oak desk also littered heavily with paperwork. He was not a very organized man, apparently. Not only was his desk out of sorts but his person was also.

  His jacket looked as if it had never been brushed and the rim of his knot and cuffs were stained with a yellow tinge. The room stank of unwashed man and tobacco.

  “Please, do have a seat, Your Grace,” Mr. Smith said with a blackened smile.

  It was right cheerful to see the duke stand in his doorway. He knew that one way or another Miss Watts would have used her connection to others to pay for his silence. He hadn’t expected it would go as high as a duke. It was more than he could have hoped for. He expected he would end the day with a yearly sum, by way of patronage, from the duke.

  The duke looked down at the shabby, dirty chair across the desk from the proprietor and hesitated to sit in it. He looked around the room instead and found a hardback wooden chair against a wall. He hoped that that, at least, wouldn't soil his pantaloons.

  He, in all honesty, couldn’t care less for his garments, but he wanted to show Mr. Smith that he detested him and the state of his office. It would be an insult to Mr. Smith and a smooth one, at that. It would be the beginning of the game the duke was about to play.

  He walked over to the chair and brought it forward. Taking a moment to remove a silk handkerchief he dusted the seat before sitting. Mr. Smith ground his jaw in response to the duke's actions and seemed to look around the room for the first time.

  “I expect you know why I have come?” the duke took control of the conversation.

  “I would never presume to know, Your Grace,” Mr. Smith retorted.

  “Be that as it may, I am sure you are aware that Miss Watts has been in my employment over the last year.”

  “I was not aware in the least where the child took her vocation.”

  “Strange, because you seemed to have been sending an inordinate number of letters to her at my home.”

  Mr. Smith’s face turned a little ashen at the mention of his threatening correspondence. He ran a dirty hand through the greasy mop of hair on top of his head. The man didn’t even have the decency to pull back his black and grey hair with a ribbon.

  “I am not sure I know what you are talking about.” Mr. Smith finally said, getting control of his fear.

  “I can sit here and discuss the matter with you all day until you are proven in your lies, Mr. Smith, but frankly I would rather not spend one moment more than necessary in this foul place.”

  “I have come to inform you that you will be publicly retracting the accusations you have made against Miss Watts and to inform you that you will never so much as speak her name again.”

  “And why would I do such a thing? She has stolen from me, and I only seek justice in the matter.”

  The duke rose from his seat in an instant. Rising to his full height, he bore down on the filth in front of him. “You will never speak such foul lies in my presence again, or I shall have you arrested.”

  Mr. Smith shrank back from the power of the duke.

  “I beg your pardon, Your Grace, for the offense. I mean merely to say that there are amounts that must be paid and can only be done if the sum is given me.”

  “I suspected you hoped that would be the case in today's meeting. I am well aware of what you did with the sum taken from the late Baron Leinister’s estate. What an unfortunate gamble you made,” he added with a tisk. “I am willing to give you the amount of fifty pounds for you to publicly retract your statement against Miss Watts.”

  “Fifty pounds ain’t even half of what I owe,” Mr. Smith blurted out, clearly disappointed with the proposition.

  “Yet it is all you will get, and it is a very generous offer. I shouldn’t give you a single copper, but I will, because I am a gentleman.”

  “And say I refuse such offer, Your Grace. Say I choose to have Miss Watts thrown in debtors’ prison instead.”

  “Then you would have no means to pay back even a portion of your debt.”

  “Aye, but I would get the satisfaction of seeing that girl in rags behind bars.”

  Mr. Smith was playing his only card. He also knew it was a good one and that the duke would have no choice but to submit to any terms he deemed fit to silence him.

  The duke paused a moment and seemed to think the matter over as if it had never crossed his mind in the past. “I suppose you could do that. I would have no means to stop you.”

  “You could pay me more, Your Grace,” Mr. Smith blurted out, so hungry for the money.

  “I could, but I won't,” the duke stated bluntly. “Please, let me clarify why you will be taking my offer and, in fact, thanking me for it.”

  “You may not be aware, but before I inherited my father's title, I was a Captain in the Royal Navy. I couldn’t help but notice that a very significant portion of your exports last year dealt with Naval contracts, exporting goods all over the British Empire.”

  “I don’t know how you know any of that information, Your Grace, but I don’t see how it will serve your proposal to me.”

  The duke smiled at this. It was a simple game of cat and mouse, and he had just cornered Mr. Smith. “I saw that most of these contracts were produced by Admiral Brown. No doubt, he was a good friend of Baron Leinister?”

  “That is correct,” Mr. Smith said, as he desperately tried to find the end of this conversation.

  “I know the gentleman well. He captained my first ship. In fact, he was also great friends with my father and came to visit us often when I was a child. One might say he was the one who inspired me to join the naval service in the first place.”

  Mr. Smith narrowed his eyes at the duke.

  “I would assume since most of your profits over the years came from such arrangements with Admiral Brown that it would be devastating if he were to take his business elsewhere.”

  “And you are trying to tell me, Your Grace, that if I don’t accept your amount and retract my statement, you will remove said client from my business?”

  “All it would take is a simple letter,” the duke ended. He folded his hands in front of him and sighed as if this meeting was becoming too boring for him.

  “How do I know you are not just making this up?”

  “Well, there is the little fact that, unlike yourself, I am a man of my word. But if that isn’t enough proof for you, I suggest you test my word. Sure, you may land Miss Watts in prison, but you, too, will be following her there shortly, when you're unable to pay back any of your debts, and you will lose your business.”

  “I am offering you something vastly more generous than I should,” the duke continued with another sigh. “I don’t have to offer you a sum in any amount. I could simply inform you that if you do not retract your statement, you will find yourself out of business by the end of the year.”

  Mr. Smith’s eyes widened as he considered this fact inwardly.

  “I am a very generous man to give you something at all. So, I suggest you take my offer before I change my mind,” the duke added in a warning tone.

  “I 'spose I have no choice but to take your deal then,” Mr. Smith finally grumbled after thinking it over for some time.

  “Wonderful, the funds will be delivered to you as soon as you sign this letter stating that you made the whole thing up to tarnish Miss Watts’ name and that you
, yourself, took possession of all of Baron Leinister’s estate.”

  The duke put parchment on top of the pile covering the desk. He stood tall above the man while he waited for the signature.

  “For your information, this letter will also be published in The Morning Chronicle,” the duke added, taking back the letter. “I have heard that you are quite fond of that particular paper, are you not?”

  “Yes, I ‘spose so, Your Grace,” the man grumbled back.

  “Now, I believe it doesn’t need to be said but just to be sure, if you ever so much as speak Miss Watts’ name again, even in the privacy of your own home, I will make good on my promise to remove all business associated with any and all colleagues at my disposal. I can promise you that my hand reaches far past the Admiral.”

  Mr. Smith nodded sullenly. The meeting hadn't gone at all as he had expected. The duke, on the other hand, was feeling a vast weight lifted after having the signed letter back in his coat pocket.

  The duke deposited the discussed amount in a leather bag on top of the desk.

  “Do try and be a little bit wiser with your money,” he said before donning his hat and leaving the room.

  He paused at the door and turned back around, “There is one more thing I need from you before I go.”

  Chapter 40

  Isabella spent most of the night, after Mr. Jenkins visit, doing her best to find a way to stave off her own issues with Mr. Smith before the Duke of Wintercrest could get involved. There was just one answer that she saw in her mind and she dreaded the thought.

  The only way to appease the scoundrel and save the reputation of the duke and his family from having any more part in the matter was to go to the man himself and give him what he wanted.

  She would stand before the horrid man and beg him for mercy. She finally resigned herself to it. It would most likely not cause him to retract his words, but satisfied that he had completely ruined her, he might just leave her alone.

  Only then would she finally be able to pick up the shattered remains of her life. Perhaps she could get a new governess or teaching job somewhere far in the country where such things about her were not known.

  When Lady Louisa arrived home that night, she told her all that had transpired, as well as her plan of action. Lady Louisa wasn’t supportive of Isabella going to such drastic measures but was unable to produce an alternate solution.

  “Let us both just sleep on it this night,” Lady Louisa had said, “and perhaps, in the morning, something better will come.”

  Perhaps it was the little sleep that Isabella got that night, but no other solution ever presented itself to her. By morning at breakfast, she was determined to her cause. She would go to the docks, confront the blackguard, and stop all of this before it got any more worse for the Wintercrest family.

  “Do you suppose that later this morning I might borrow a carriage?” Isabella asked Lady Gilcrest over their toast and jam.

  “Of course, my dear. Do you have plans to go somewhere?”

  “Well, I must go on an errand of sorts.” Isabella wasn’t sure if she wanted to share her plan with the rest of the family. A proper young woman prostrating herself before her villain wasn’t something she guessed the Gilcrests would be happy with.

  “I hope it’s to buy a pretty new bonnet that you will actually wear,” Lord Dunthorpe said with a wink.

  Isabella laughed nervously at the joke. She looked over at Lady Louisa from across the table. Lady Louisa was willing Isabella with her eyes to change her mind.

  “I’m afraid it isn’t a bonnet,” Isabella said finally, more toward her friend then Lord Dunthorpe. “I must do something, and if I don’t do it right away, I will lose the nerve altogether to do it.”

  The whole family looked at Isabella questioningly. Even the Earl dipped down the corner of the paper that he had begun to read to inspect her. To the others, she most likely sounded mad, rambling in such a way. She knew that her dear friend, whom the words were meant for, had understood.

  As the family was finishing their meal and preparing to go their separate ways for the day, a groomsman came into the room.

  “I beg your pardon, my lord,” he said to the Earl. “There is a gentleman caller come to see Miss Watts.”

  “So early in the morning?” Lady Gilcrest responded in a bit of shock.

  “I am sure it is Mr. Jenkins again,” Isabella explained. "He has been giving me vital news, pertaining to my situation, as soon as he gets it. I apologize for the early hour, but would it be alright if I saw him in the small drawing room?”

  Lady Louisa’s sorrowful brown eyes now lighted in hope. If the lawyer was here again, perhaps there was new information that could prevent her friend from her current course of disaster.

  “Of course, dear,” Lady Gilcrest said, understanding the need for urgency. “If Mr. Jenkins is in need of a morning meal himself, have Julia here send in a tray for him,” she added as an afterthought.

  Isabella walked down the hallway to the drawing room where the lawyer was told to wait for her. She found herself thinking about the goodness of the Gilcrests. Even Lady Gilcrest, presented with an unfashionably early guest, only thought of her guest’s well-being and comfort, enough to offer him a plate of breakfast.

  She knew she was truly blessed to have found such a good friend as Lady Louisa. Even more, to have been adopted as part of the Gilcrest household since coming back to London.

  She smoothed out the folds of her soft white cotton morning dress and fixed a loose curl at the side of her hair. It was more out of habit than anything else. Mrs. Mason had instilled in the ladies of her school the habit of always making sure they looked their best when hosting a guest.

  Isabella opened the door and only took two steps into the room before freezing in shock. A gentleman figure stood before her, his back to her. He was leaning against a window and looking out on the street below as he waited for her arrival. It was not the thin, gangly silhouette of Mr. Jenkins, however.

  “Christian?” Isabella blurted out without even thinking.

  Like a dream, the duke turned around, noticing that he was no longer alone in the room. He looked over Isabella one time as if he was drinking her in for the first time all over again. Isabella couldn’t help but feel the catch in her throat as she did the same in return.

  “I don’t understand, Your Grace?” Isabella said, finally coming to her senses. “The groomsman said…”

  “Yes, I apologize for the small fib. I was afraid if he told you I had come to speak with you…well, that you would not see me.”

  “Not because I wouldn’t want to,” Isabella said, admitting to the truth, “but for your own sake.”

  The duke crossed the room in three easy steps and took both of Isabella’s hands in his own. He relished, for a moment, the closeness he had missed so much over the past month. He opened his mouth to speak but before he could, a hurried voice called from just outside the still open drawing-room door.

  “Isabella, look what Father saw,” Lady Louisa said as she came hurriedly into the room.

  Lady Louisa stopped, frozen in place, recognizing the duke at once.

  “Your Grace,” she said with a small curtsy.

  “Well, I was going to tell Isabella the news myself, but I suspect I should give you the honor, Lady Louisa, since you seem to have the article in hand.”

  “What article is that?” Isabella said, looking between the two.

  The duke gently tugged on her hands and guided her to the sofa. He made sure to sit down right next to her. Lady Louisa also came into the room and sat in an opposing chair.

  “While Father was reading the paper he found this,” Lady Louisa handed the newspaper over to Isabella.

  Isabella looked at the duke, who relaxed back in his seat as he waited for her to look at the paper in front of her.

  To her surprise, an entire page was completely void of any news except one piece of information. It was a letter- written, signed, and sworn to be
authentic, by the Duke of Wintercrest, no less. It was a letter from Mr. Smith claiming that all his charges against Miss Watts were, in fact, false. It even went on to explain Mr. Smiths failed venture and his reasoning for the whole hoax.

  Isabella couldn’t believe her eyes as she read over the words again. Not only had her name been cleared, but it was printed in such a way that every single member of the town would see it very obviously.

  “When did you do this?” Isabella asked, confused and finding it hard to speak.

  “Just this morning. I saw Mr. Smith a little after dawn. From there, I went straight to the papers and then to this house.”

  “But how? Why?” Isabella continued to stammer.

  Though this didn’t completely erase what had been said of her in the past, it was just about as close as she could ever expect to get. A public retraction on this level would be the talk of the town and, for once, in a good way about Isabella.

  When she asked these bewildered questions of the duke, he sat up from his spot. He looked at her intently with his dazzling blue eyes.

  “I think you know why,” he said in a deep, husky voice.

  The room got very silent for a moment as the two exchanged a look.

  “Your Grace,” Lady Louisa said, distracting their attention, “you must be starved. I will go and see that some proper refreshments are brought to you.”

  “Thank you, Lady Louisa,” the duke said, knowing she was taking the opportunity to give them privacy.

  Both waited till Lady Louisa had left the room before looking at each other again. The duke took both of Isabella’s hands into his and softly rubbed the naked flesh.

  “Christian,” she said softly, looking down at their joined hands. “I appreciate all that you have done for me, I truly do. As much as I want this, I could never ask it of you or your family.”

  “Don’t think on them,” he said, cupping her face and raising it to look at him. “Both Abigail and Mother have said that they would support any decision I make.”

  “And you would have me now, in this state?” Isabella asked as tears welled in her eyes.