My Lady Governess (Zebra Regency Romance)

by Counts, Wilma

  “I see your venture was successful,” Olmstead said with a questioning glance at Peter once the library door was closed. “You brought Miss Palmer home safe and sound.”

  Adrian heaved a sigh. “She is not Miss Palmer. Allow me to present Peter Richards, Earl of Ostwick. She is his sister.”

  “A lady? You’ve had a lady of the ton acting as governess to your brats?” Olmstead gave a bark of laughter, then sobered. “She had nothing to do with this spy business then?”

  “Nothing at all. Did I not say that earlier?” Adrian went to a sideboard, hesitated a moment, then poured three glasses of brandy and smiled inwardly as Peter accepted his in a grown-up manner, but succumbed to a fit of coughing with his first sip. “It goes down easier when you are more used to it,” he told the boy. Then he gave Olmstead a brief summary of the chase and its outcome.

  “So, the uncle—Brompton, is it?—watched the home of the former governess and traced Miss Palmer, that is, Lady Elinor, here?” Olmstead asked.

  “Seems so,” Adrian replied.

  At this point Elinor entered the room, somewhat hesitantly. The men stood as she quietly took a seat near Peter.

  She had taken time to remove her pelisse and bonnet, wash her hands and face, and recomb her hair—and felt infinitely more presentable for having done so. She thought Adrian’s eyes softened with warmth when she came in and she was momentarily flustered. Don’t be silly, she admonished herself. He thought you were a spy, a traitor.

  Adrian shifted his gaze to his military friend. “All right, Nate, tell us about your adventurous evening.”

  “It went like clockwork. Exactly as we planned. Dennington met our courier, handed over the documents, and wished him Godspeed. Then Dennington left; actually, he circled around to join us as we followed the rotters who were following the courier.”

  “How many were there?” Adrian interrupted.

  “Three. They followed our man for two or three miles at some distance, apparently trying to insure it was not a trap. Finally, they closed in on him and demanded his dispatch case. At that point, we closed in on them. There were some shots and one of them suffered a slight wound on his shoulder. I am convinced their intent was to kill the courier once he had turned over the dispatch case.”

  “What happened when they knew it was a trap?”

  “They split up, taking off in three different directions, but luckily, there were enough of us to split up also and give chase.”

  “You caught them, I take it.”

  “We apprehended two of them.”

  “And the third escaped?” Adrian was clearly dismayed.

  “Not exactly.” Olmstead grinned. “The third agent probably thought the escape was successful, but in fact, we followed the third one—discreetly, of course.”

  “Of course,” Adrian said dryly. “Followed where?”

  “Here. Even as we speak, our spy is abovestairs, presumably sleeping.”

  “You are sure?”

  “The house has been watched, front and back, since we arrived on the heels of our culprit. And there is a guard in the hallway, watching the chamber door. I thought, after all this time and trouble, you would like to be in on the actual capture.” Olmstead rose and went to Adrian’s desk where he had apparently been writing when Trenville and his companions returned. He handed Adrian a slip of paper. “There’s the name of your spy.”

  Adrian raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. “I see.” He went to the door and said to a footman in the hall, “Please rouse Mr. Huntington. Tell him I wish him to take some dictation on an urgent matter immediately.” He gave the servant some additional instructions which the others did not hear and returned to his seat.

  Elinor and her brother had sat quietly throughout this exchange. Peter seemed confused, but obviously thrilled that the other men thought to include him in such business. Elinor frankly wondered what was going on—and she was not so shy as her brother in speaking up.

  “Pardon me, gentlemen, but should you not be about the Crown’s business of apprehending your spy?” Still hurt that they had once thought her to be that spy, she could not quite control her impatience.

  “In due time, my lady. In due time,” Adrian said.

  “I am quite sure that my presence will be superfluous as you dictate your report. With your permission, I should like to retire.” She rose.

  “No. Please stay. I want you to hear this. Humor me, if you will. We may be able to put some of your own questions to rest.” Adrian was, she felt, making a sincere personal appeal to her. She sat back down.

  A few minutes later, Huntington arrived, dressed in cotton trousers with a dressing gown tied over them. His eyes were puffy with sleep and he was still combing his hair with his fingers as he came through the door. His gaze took in the presence of Olmstead and Elinor with a small show of surprise and passed over Peter as someone unknown to him.

  His eyes came back to Elinor and she thought there was a flicker of fear in his expression, but his voice was confident in greeting them. “Miss Palmer. We have an appointment later, I believe. Olmstead. Trenville.” He nodded at Peter.

  Elinor held his gaze for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders and shifted her own gaze to Adrian.

  Adrian had stood when Huntington entered. He now drew out a straight-backed chair near a small writing table that faced the others at an angle.

  “Sit here, Thomas. There is paper and pen handy. Ink, as well.”

  “Must be truly urgent to get a fellow out of bed at such an unconscionable hour,” Huntington sounded a bit testy.

  “It is very important,” Adrian agreed affably. “Espionage is always urgent.”

  “Espionage?” Huntington looked up in surprise. “You have something new on those spies then?”

  “We think so. Now, this memorandum is to be addressed to Lord Canning in the usual manner. Sir”—Adrian began to dictate, pacing about the room as he talked—“Olmstead, feel free to correct me if I get any of this wrong.”

  Elinor glanced at Captain Olmstead and found him to be watching Huntington intensely as Adrian began recounting for the foreign secretary the events of the evening as Olmstead had related them earlier.

  “And so, His Majesty’s Forces managed to apprehend two of the culprits.” Adrian paused in his dictation as Huntington tried to keep up. Elinor thought Thomas looked decidedly pale. “Unfortunately,” Adrian continued, “the third escaped immediate capture.” Huntington seemed to let out a long held breath very softly.

  “However,” Adrian went on in the dictating tone, “the third person, who turns out to have been the particular agent most responsible for our leaks, was followed ... Sorry, Thomas. Am I speaking too fast?”

  “Uh, no sir. Just let me finish . . . ‘was followed.’ Was he—or she—identified, my lord?”

  “Yes, Thomas.” Adrian’s voice now carried a tone of such infinite sadness that Elinor wanted to comfort him despite her anger at him for suspecting her earlier. “Yes, he was. You were. It is finished.”

  Huntington carefully laid down the pen. He looked from Trenville to Olmstead and appeared to realize escape now was impossible. He clutched his hands between his knees. Others in the room seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for him to speak.

  “It was a trap, then, that message tonight? I thought as much....” Huntington spoke in a quiet voice of utter defeat. “And this memorandum was another trap.”

  “Yes. We suspected information on Wellington’s troop strength would be irresistible,” Olmstead said.

  “Why, Thomas? Why?” Adrian sat down opposite Huntington and looked at him directly. “You had a good position. Your expectations were promising.”

  “Not mine. Yours,” Huntington said bitterly. “I have lived in your shadow far too long, Trenville. Why? Money, of course. French money allows me to live as I please—not as I must as a glorified servant.”

  “I expect you will be setting your sights considerably lower in Newgate,” Olmstead said with li
ttle sympathy. “When I think of how many British soldiers might have died for your greed, I’ve a good mind to run you through myself.”

  Huntington turned to look at Olmstead and his eye fell on Elinor.

  “Her. She told you about me, didn’t she? That’s how you came to suspect me. Trying to save her own skin. She is not what she seems, you know, your precious Elinor. Think I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you? It was planned that way, Trenville. She is one of us—suckered you in just as she was supposed to.”

  Elinor gasped. “Thomas! How could you? Blackmail could not work, so you seek to dishonor me anyway? What can you possibly gain by it?”

  “I will not go down alone,” Huntington sneered. “You were in on it—you go with me.”

  “Hear now. You can’t talk to my sister that way!” Peter rose to advance on Huntington, but Elinor grabbed his wrist and Adrian waved him back to his seat.

  “Oh, you won’t go alone,” Olmstead promised. “Those two with you tonight will be there. And there are a couple of rounders in Devonshire that have much to answer for.”

  “It won’t wash, Thomas,” Adrian said. He turned to Elinor. “He tried to blackmail you?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, that is over, too,” Adrian said grimly. “You’ll be tried for treason, Thomas. And if Lady Elinor Richards’s name is even breathed in that connection, you will pay dearly.”

  “Hah!” Huntington’s mouth twisted in an ugly sneer. “Treason. What more can you do?”

  “Well,” Adrian said thoughtfully, “we could arrange for you to ‘escape.’ Dump you in the laps of your French friends and inform them you have been playing a double game. They would not be likely to take kindly to that.”

  Huntington blanched and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

  “Nate, take him upstairs to get properly dressed, then get him out of here. Parsons is just outside the door. He will go with you. Watch for any tricks. He may have a weapon.”

  “We can handle it. Browning is still upstairs and others are outside,” Olmstead said. “Come along, Huntington.”

  Elinor watched with mixed feelings as Thomas Huntington was led from the room. Yes, he had attempted to blackmail her, had forced her into planning to break her word about staying until Trenville found a new governess. But he had been a friend in Devonshire where they had shared morning rides and achieved a degree of understanding born of their similar stations in a nobleman’s household.

  She had no doubt he would have carried out his threat to sell information about her to her uncle. She could not condone or forgive such despicable behavior, but she thought she understood the envy and frustration that motivated it. A firmer, more honorable character would not have succumbed to the temptation. Huntington had—and would pay a terrible price for his ambitious greed.

  A year ago such thinking would not have occurred to her. So perhaps some good—some better understanding of others—had come of her masquerade.

  “Ellie, are you all right?” Peter broke into her musings.

  “Yes, Peter. I am saddened, however. Such a waste. He might have been a good man under different circumstances.”

  “There but for the grace of God ... is that what you have in mind?” Adrian asked, moving to take a seat nearer the other two.

  “Yes. I suppose so.” Elinor was again reminded of how remarkably alike she and Adrian often thought. “Was it necessary to put him through that?” She gestured toward the writing table where Huntington had sat.

  “I thought so. It was imperative that he recognize and admit his culpability. It is, of course, impossible to measure the damage he did.”

  “And you really suspected me?” She spoke softly, but even she could hear the pain in her voice. She searched his eyes for some ultimate truth in his response.

  There was answering pain in his own gaze. “Yes, God help me—I did, though every fiber of my being cried out against it.”

  “Why?”

  “Why did I suspect you? Or why did I not want to?”

  “What made you believe I could do such a thing? I must know.”

  “I could not believe it. And that was a problem. The unknown French agent was someone connected to me—someone with intelligence and access, whose activities coincided with your arrival in my household. Then I met the Spensers in Belgium and learned that my Miss Palmer was not their Miss Palmer.”

  “Ohhh.”

  “But I still did not know who you were. The Bow Street Runners led me to your Miss Palmer, but she refused to help me—until I told her you had been kidnapped.”

  “She is a dear friend.”

  “I suspect she grants such loyalty only to people who have truly earned it.” Adrian’s eyes locked with hers for a long moment and she felt all her resentment melting away.

  “See, Ellie? I warned you against going off on one of your harebrained schemes.” Peter’s tone was the superior tone of a young, assertive male.

  “I admit I did not think it through adequately, but would you rather I had given you Pennington as a brother-in-law?”

  “Good lord, no! But what are we to do now? You are not five and twenty for another six months yet. And I won’t reach my majority for years!” His last words ended on a wail and there was silence in the room for a moment. Then Peter spoke again. “Oh, I say, that bit about you being married wasn’t true, was it?”

  “No!” Elinor said vehemently. “And you are not to mention it again, Peter. That is not to become fodder for the ton’s gossipy cows.”

  Peter shrugged. “Don’t know how you’ll stop them once Aunt Josephine and Lady Hempton get hold of it,” he declared with the brutal honesty of youth. “Pennington ain’t likely to keep quiet either.”

  Elinor looked in alarm first at Peter, then at Adrian, then back to Peter. She recognized the truth of Peter’s statement, which merely verbalized her own fear for Adrian. Well, with her in the north with Mary MacGregor or on the Continent with her godmother, the gossip should die down soon enough.

  “Why don’t we discuss this in the morning?” Adrian suggested. “That is, later this morning?”

  “That is a good idea,” Elinor said. “Surely we can come up with some plausible bone to throw those dogs of gossip.” As she rose and started for the door, Peter and Adrian stood as well.

  “Ostwick,” Adrian said, “I should like a private word with you before you go up.” Elinor looked at Adrian questioningly, but he merely put his hand gently on her back to propel her toward the door. He leaned near her ear and said softly, “It is all right, my dear. Your brother is safe with me.”

  She gave him an uncertain smile, nearly undone by his use of the endearment and his warm breath on her ear and neck.

  “Sleep well,” he whispered.

  “Good night, Ellie,” Peter called.

  Sleep well, indeed! She doubted she would get a wink of sleep, what with all the worries she had.

  In the event, however, she was asleep nearly the moment her head touched the pillow.

  Seventeen

  Although she had fallen asleep immediately, Elinor arose early the next morning none too rested. She donned one of her serviceable “governess” dresses and said a silent prayer of thanks that she would soon have access to her own full wardrobe. Feeling nervous and uncertain of herself, she made her way to the breakfast room. She was not surprised to find Adrian there before her, but she had not expected her brother to be there as well. Judging by his near-empty plate, he had been there some time.

  “Good morning, gentlemen.” She gestured for them to remain seated and leaned over her brother to kiss him on the cheek before turning her attention to the food on the sideboard. She noted Peter’s blush as he and Adrian returned her greeting.

  “We have just been discussing details of restoring Peter’s authority in his own domain,” Adrian said. Elinor noted the intimacy between the two men signaled by the casual use of her brother’s given name.

  “Trenville is taking me to s
ee his—and our—solicitors this morning,” Peter explained. “Adrian says there should be no problem, given his actions, in having Uncle Brompton declared incompetent to act as my guardian any longer.”

  “Adrian,” was it? She noted with amused approval the hero worship in her brother’s eyes when he regarded Lord Trenville. Peter had been too long without responsible, caring male guidance.

  “You are still underage, Peter,” she pointed out as gently as she could. “Someone will have to assume guardianship. I would do so, but ...”

  “But you are a female,” Peter interjected.

  “Yes. And everyone knows what incompetent, featherbrained dolts females are,” she said, unable to hide her bitterness. “Have you and his lordship come up with a replacement, then?”

  “Of course,” Adrian said smoothly. “Me. With your approval, that is.”

  “The first thing I intend to do is discharge those villains Uncle Brompton foisted on us and bring our old servants back to Ostwick Manor and the house here in London,” her brother said. “And I shall have to take a firmer hand in the management of my own estates.”

  At this positively mature announcement, she looked at Adrian and they shared a moment of understanding amusement. Then the true import of what Peter was saying came to her.

  “I see,” she said tartly. “And have you and his lordship made any other decisions about Richards family business you might deign to share with me?”

  Peter looked uncomfortable and squirmed in his chair. “Ellie, it ain’t like that. He was just helping me sort things out.”

  The eagerness had gone out of his voice and he cast an appealing glance at Adrian. Elinor was immediately sorry for taking the air from his sails. She put her plate down in the place next to him, sat down, and patted his hand.

  “It’s all right, Peter. I’m sure Lord Trenville has your best interests in mind.”

  “You are, of course, welcome to accompany us, my lady,” Adrian said.