The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor_A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Emma Linfield

  Soon, it will be springtime and I can venture out of doors to inhale the fresh night air. Surely, that will assist.

  Yet Rose was not certain anything but the removal of Captain Balfour from the property would ease her mind.

  She had tried several times to speak with Nicholas alone about what had happened with Captain Balfour in the schoolroom and how Harry had reacted to the man’s presence. However, it seemed that the new duke was constantly surrounded by people, just as his father had once been.

  Moreover, Captain Balfour seemed omnipotent, never leaving Nicholas’ side. She watched in silence as Nicholas appeared to rely on the man more with each day that passed.

  Stealing through the halls again, Rose listened to the now-familiar sounds of the manor settling for the night, the odd creaks no longer alarming her as they had. She was beginning to regard Rosecliff as home, albeit one which seemed laced with secrets about every corner.

  Rose had learned the many nooks and crannies of the structure, finding passageways which she had no reason to find but for her late-night stalking. If she had been a lesser person, she might have taken advantage of the hiding spots to hear the comings and goings of the household. She admitted it was tempting to listen to the interviews held behind closed doors, but Rose had her own matters.

  Harry had not spoken to her again about the captain, despite her gentle prodding and the man had not resurfaced in the schoolroom again. In fact, she saw as little of him as she did Nicholas, the captain replacing Peter Alderson as the duke’s man in almost all areas.

  On the main floor of the grand house, a draft emanating, chilling Rose through her robes and she twisted the sash about her waist nervously. It felt as if the ghosts of Rosecliff were warning her not to proceed and yet she did not heed their subtle alarms. It was nothing she had not done night after night for months, wearing her own mind down until she fell into a fitful sleep near dawn.

  The routine remained very much the same. She would wake and dress, collect the children and meet the duchess for breakfast before bringing Harry for his lessons. However, the afternoons were no longer reserved for hikes and banter, Betsey preferring to roughhouse with the other children and Harry retreating to his apartment until supper. After the evening meal, all would disperse into their respective directions once more and Rose was left alone again.

  Rose longed for the company of the children and Nicholas, but she had little choice in the matter. All had moved on without her, enveloped in their own woes, none which required the lonely governess.

  She paused suddenly, her eyes noting the flickering of light beneath the study doors. Her pulse quickened and she ventured toward the room, her ears honed to movement inside but she heard nothing.

  It must be Nicholas, she thought, unable to imagine who else would be working at such an hour. Certainly not Peter in the apartment reserved for the duke but could it be Captain Balfour behaving in an uncouth manner?

  Rose stood uncertainty, knowing she had no business in the study but it would provide her an opportunity to speak with Nicholas alone for the first time in weeks.

  But if it is Balfour…

  Rose did not permit herself another minute to consider, rapping gently on the door and inhaling as she waited for a response.

  Dear Lord, please let it be Nicholas inside.

  The door swung inward and Rose gasped at the surprising movement.

  “Miss Rose?” Nicholas asked, his eyes filled with surprise. “What in God’s name are you doing awake at this hour?”

  “I–” she faltered, her breaths escaping in short gasps as she tried to collect herself. Despite her private hope that he would be the one beyond the door, his nearness caught her by surprise.

  “Are you well?”

  “Yes, Your Grace!” she answered quickly. “No, Your Grace.”

  He peered at her, cocking his dark curls to the side to study her face inquisitively.

  “Is it yes or no, Miss Rose?” he asked, a gentle teasing in his tone. “Or are you unsure?”

  “May I speak with you, Your Grace?”

  He did not immediately respond, his strange eyes wracking over her face as if searching for an answer and for the first time, Rose noticed fine lines about the corners.

  He is fatigued from all that has been thrust upon him, she realized, a stab of uncertainty touching her. He has much with which to concern himself that does not involve the woes of young children or my unsubstantiated suspicions.

  “Of course. I am happy for the distraction,” the duke agreed, stepping aside to permit her entry.

  Rose followed as he returned to his overflowing desk, papers near spilling off the sides of the wood.

  “Your Grace, you are occupied,” she murmured, standing as he reclaimed his chair. She had almost forgotten how handsome the man was, but staring at his piercing eyes aglow in the candlelight, a comfortable warmth spread through her body.

  “Miss Rose, I am always occupied,” he sighed, forcing a small smile on his face. “Which is why I find your presence so refreshing.”

  “I fear you will not feel the same after I explain the reason for my visit.”

  A look of annoyance crossed his eyes and Rose shifted her gaze downward.

  He has too much on his mind at the moment. I cannot cause him more issue.

  “Forgive me, Your Grace. I must be out of my wits distracting you when you are clearly overwhelmed with work.”

  “Nonsense,” Nicholas said sharply. “You have come here for a reason, Miss Rose. What is it?”

  She raised her head slightly and met his gaze. Somehow, she was no longer smitten with his informality, the bite in his words detracting from what had once been an endearment.

  “Forgive me,” she said again, turning away. “I misspoke. Good night, Your Grace.”

  “Miss Rose, wait!”

  Reluctantly, she glanced back, pivoting her body to address him. She was hardly in a position to ignore a duke’s orders, no matter how close she had permitted herself to believe they had become.

  You are a governess, a base-born orphan with no standing to walk away.

  “Your Grace?”

  She could not bring herself to meet his eyes.

  “It is you who should forgive me,” he told her earnestly and Rose gazed at him cautiously. “I should not have been short with you, but it is as you say, I have been quite overcome with my father’s duties. Please, do not go. I truly do welcome having you here. I have missed our time together.”

  Rose’s heart fluttered softly and she smiled tentatively.

  “I have, also, Your Grace.”

  “I daresay, I rather long for the times when you called me Nicholas in our private moments as well.”

  Rose’s face exploded into a shade of dark crimson and she tried to think of something clever to say but she was unexpectedly tongue-tied. Nicholas’ face collapsed into a broad grin.

  “Too much has occurred, has it not? Tis not as easy to return to how things were before my father died.”

  “It will take time, Your Grace,” she murmured. “It was an unimaginable loss for you and Her Grace.”

  “Is it selfish that I wish to return to my carefree days as a marquess?” he chuckled. “When you and I would take the children to the bluffs and I would see your lovely face at supper but every night?”

  Her heart was pounding so loudly, she was certain he would hear.

  He says everything I wish to hear and yet, he is right, nothing is as it was.

  “Your Grace, I must speak to you about Captain Balfour,” she whispered, not wanting to upset the warmth between them in that moment. Yet Rose knew she had so few opportunities to see the duke alone. Her concern for Harry outweighed the need to connect with Nicholas, perhaps because she knew with her attraction came a deep shame.

  One which Captain Balfour insists on keeping alive with his mentions of Philip and his mere presence.

  “Miss Rose, I know that him being here upsets you, but he has been a great a
ssistance to me in the past months,” Nicholas told her, a glimmer of sympathy in his eyes. “You must overcome the ill feelings you have toward him. He has done nothing but deliver tragic news.”

  Rose stared at him, her mind whirling slightly. She had not expected that Nicholas would embrace Captain Balfour with such open arms, not after the fire she had seen following his father’s death.

  “It is not about me, Your Grace. I feel that he has some connection with Harry, one which instills fear in the young lord.”

  Nicholas scoffed slightly.

  “You believe that Harry and Balfour have business?” he asked, and Rose’s shoulders rose in defensiveness.

  “I fail to believe that a boy has any business,” she replied slowly. “I only know that the captain appears to scare Lord Arlington. He has demanded an audience with him, in my presence.”

  “From that you glean that there is something untoward occurring? Really, Miss Rose, I did not take you as a conspiratorialist. Of course, Balfour wishes to speak with Harry. He is attempting to connect with the entire household, have you not noticed?”

  Rose had not but she did not argue, sensing that somehow, Captain Balfour had managed to win over the duke.

  Are you imagining issues where there are none? She wondered. Rose knew it did not matter how accurate were her concerns; Nicholas did not wish to hear a word against his new advisor.

  “Of course, Your Grace.”

  She said nothing else, resisting the urge to flee from the study.

  “Miss Rose? Please look at me.”

  Reluctantly, she lifted her head, blonde strands falling over her face.

  “It has been an adjustment for all of us,” he told her. “I have made allowances to ensure that I will be at Rosecliff with more frequency going forward, but you must do your part.”

  “My part?” she repeated. “How do you mean, Your Grace?”

  “If the children are becoming unraveled, you must keep them in line. Captain Balfour is not our nemesis. He has no reason to stay here if he has not pure intentions.”

  “Yes, Your Grace. I will ensure I do what I am able.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I am very tired, Your Grace,” Rose fibbed. “Again, forgive the intrusion. Good night.”

  She spun to leave, hoping he would allow it this time.

  “Miss Rose,” Nicholas called, and she paused, inhaling sharply.

  “Your Grace?”

  “I rather long for the days when you called me Nicholas.”

  Rose closed her eyes, grateful that he could not see her face with her back turned.

  “It seems rather inappropriate, Your Grace,” she murmured. “Good night.”

  She hurried out of the study, a deep feeling of sadness gripping her heart. While she would never admit it aloud, she too, yearned for the days when life was much simpler.

  If the duke had not perished, would he and I have pursued our affections for one another? If Captain Balfour was not here, would we have maintained our close friendship?

  There was no way to answer such questions but if Rose had to wager, she would guess that there might have been a worthy future between them should life had not dealt them all such a stunning blow.

  Will there ever be a chance for us to reclaim the tentative friendship we built?

  Rose was sure that it would be impossible as long as Daniel Balfour remained in Rosecliff.

  How long will he remain? Is he a permanent fixture here, now that Nicholas has accepted him?

  The idea filled her with sick, seeing the man day in and out, his leering smile as he reminded her of all she had lost.

  It is as if Captain Balfour first took Philip and then took Nicholas. Has he a personal grudge against me?

  Rose knew the idea was ridiculous, but she could not imagine why the man seemed to shadow her across the countryside. The odds of him appearing in the wake of two deaths seemed insurmountable and yet, there he was.

  You are the common denominator.

  The realization sent shudders up her spine and Rose rushed up the servant’s staircase toward her apartment as if attempting to escape the shadows on her trail.

  An umbra hung over her head and no matter where she journeyed, it would always find her.

  Is that umbra’s name Daniel Balfour?

  Chapter 26

  “Your Grace, shall we recess?” Captain Balfour asked, and Nicholas gazed at him.

  “What? Oh, yes. A short recess is in order,” he agreed, nodding dismissively at the men who rose to stretch their legs and light pipes.

  “You are quite distracted, Your Grace. Is something the matter?” the captain asked.

  Nicholas watched as the men filtered out of the boardroom before turning to his advisor.

  “Have you any business with my cousin, Lord Arlington?” he blurted forth, not permitting himself a moment to consider the inanity of his words. He studied the captain’s face as it contorted into several different expressions, finally resting on confusion.

  “The boy? Lord Harry Arlington?” Balfour asked. “Goodness, no. He is all of ten, is he not?”

  “Indeed, he is,” Nicholas replied sighing. He felt foolish for asking but he had been unable to forsake the concern he had read in Rose’s eyes the previous night, no matter how he tried to dismiss it.

  She had never been hysterical nor given me cause to question her and yet, it is so farfetched to imagine Captain Balfour intimidating Harry.

  In the end, Nicholas knew his only option was to ask the captain in a forthcoming manner.

  I know people well enough to gage if they are lying to me, he decided but as he studied Captain Balfour’s face, he found himself inundated with questions he had not considered before.

  The conversation with Rose repeated in his mind. Had he been too hasty in dismissing what she said? Why would she bring Harry into the matter if the biases were hers? It seemed to go against everything he had learned about the compassionate governess. Rose would not bring the children she adored into such a matter.

  She truly believes that Harry is afraid of Captain Balfour but why? It is a matter I must bring to Harry.

  “From where has such a strange inquiry arisen, Your Grace? Has Lord Arlington said something to you?”

  “No,” Nicholas replied but something stalled him from mentioning Rose’s concerns. Inherently he felt that she needed to be protected.

  If you trust Balfour, why would you not mention what Rose said?

  “I believe we have concluded our talks for today,” Nicholas said suddenly.

  “Your Grace? We have not voted on the bylaws as of yet.”

  The confusion in Balfour’s face was evident but Nicholas had enough of council for the day. The desire to return to Rosecliff had overshadowed anything else on his mind. He could not be made to focus on the bylaws. Especially when he was unsure the bylaws were what his father would have wanted.

  “Your Grace, this tax must be enacted sooner rather than later,” Captain Balfour urged. “The talks have been underway for months now.”

  “And yet it has yet to pass,” Nicholas commented dryly. “Perhaps because someone has thought it a poor concept to further squeeze the peasants of their meager earnings.”

  “If they wish to work the land, Your Grace, they can pay for the privilege!” the captain growled. “It is pence in the pockets of us who will better East Anglia.”

  “It was my father who opposed this tax, was it not?” Nicholas asked, turning his attention to the door as the men began to filter back inside, murmuring amongst themselves.

  “Your father had very…modern ideas,” Balfour replied slowly. “I do not need to explain how detrimental such thinking can be to a country tied to tradition.”

  “There must have been good reason for my father to withhold the vote,” Nicholas insisted. “Regardless, it will not occur today. I insist we adjourn.”

  “As you wish, Your Grace,” Balfour replied agreeably but Nicholas thought he caught a slight r
azor in the man’s tone. The duke watched as the advisor dismissed council and Nicholas rose, eyeing Peter Alderson who remained as the other men filtered from the room once more.

  Peter had taken a secondary role with the arrival of Captain Balfour, stepping back as secretary to somehow becoming a glorified butler.

  He hasn’t much to say in the wake of father’s passing. I would be more vocal if some stranger had stepped into my position and yet he stands about meekly, overseeing the servants.