A Governess for the faithless Duke (Regency Romance) (Regency Tales Book 3)

by Regina Darcy

  She blushed, the pretty colour riding up her cheekbones, and he was enchanted. He had to force himself to focus on her words.

  “I am, thank you, Your Grace.”

  He caught her hesitation. “I sense a ‘but’ in there, somewhere. Please be open with me, Miss Williams, about any concerns that have arisen since our first meeting.”

  “It will likely seem indelicate of me, Your Grace, and I would not otherwise have brought it up, except that Mrs Thomson has informed me of your wish that I appear at dinner when your great aunt arrives. I am in possession of very few gowns that would suit…”

  Her voice trailed off, and for a second he wondered if she were asking him to purchase an evening gown for her. He dismissed the thought immediately...there was nothing in her current demeanour to suggest anything but deep embarrassment at the turn of the conversation. Then it hit him. He had not paid her for her services since her arrival, and if she were to make herself presentable, she needed the funds to provide for herself. It was his turn to change colour, his own embarrassment at his oversight mounting as he spoke.

  “I beg your forbearance, Miss Williams, and pray you forgive me for failing to pay you what I owe you for services rendered to my nieces. The oversight will be corrected before I leave for London,” he promised.

  She averted her eyes as she murmured an embarrassed, “Thank you.”

  Edmund strove to find a new thread of conversation to take them away from personal matters and the weather.

  “How have my nieces been doing? I hope that they are more settled now.”

  It amused him how quickly she grabbed the end of the new thread. “Yes indeed, Your Grace. We are getting along nicely now, thank you.”

  Her genuine smile was as charming as everything else about her, even the way she held herself on the bench. He wished that he could sit next to her and hold the creamy hand that she had clasped around its mate in her lap.

  Squelching such thoughts, and reminding himself of his vow, he decided that it would be best if he took his leave of her before the innocence that had him enthralled managed to disrupt his good sense and his resolve.

  “Well I shall leave you to your contemplation of Nature. I must away to London this evening, but I will leave your wage for these two weeks with Mrs Thomson before I depart.”

  Turning sharply on his heel, he walked away. Charlotte watched him go with a quickening heartbeat. She had not been immune to the potency of his very presence, and she was grateful that he had taken himself off. She could not let his kindness mean more than that to her, and knew that she had to be careful to keep her distance from him, what with all his troubles of late, and his apparent interest in the Lady Henrietta. Hating the way that last thought made her feel, she rose and went in, withdrawing to her own rooms and keeping to them for the rest of the evening.

  She saw him leave from her window, and watched as the carriage conveying him to the city disappeared from view.

  Amelia would arrive in six days, and she was looking forward to spending time with her sister and aunt, and enjoying the fun fair. She went to sleep with that thought on her mind, happy to have replaced her earlier gloom.

  The week passed quickly. Her thoughts ran to the Duke too many times for her comfort, but she valiantly dismissed them, concentrating instead on helping Eliza with the sums that were giving her a hard time, and working with Mary Anne through a specially difficult handwriting challenge. Her evenings were spent mostly alone, though she was invited to share her dinner with the servants one evening, a kind of precursor to their day out on Saturday. She knew she was not exactly of their rank, whether of the upper or lower house, but no one seemed to mind her presence, and she was even flattered by the none-too-subtle attentions that the young footmen seemed eager to pay her. The attention was a boost to her ego, and the following afternoon, at her usual tea with Mrs Thomson, she thanked her again for allowing her to have dinner with them.

  “Thomas and William were more than happy that you joined us,” Mrs Thomson said, an indulgent smile on her face. “And now that you know the lads and lasses, you will feel far less out of place on Saturday at the fair.”

  “I am looking forward to Saturday,” Charlotte enthused. “Amelia and Aunt Anne will be here as well. It will be quite the feast of entertainments for me.”

  Mr Milton arrived to share their tea and bring news from above stairs.

  “The Duke has returned,” he announced, “and it seems all is well.”

  Mrs Thomson put down her cup. “Do tell, Mr Milton,” she begged him, handing him his cup, and a plate with a scone and two sandwiches.

  The burly butler swallowed a whole sandwich, and half his tea before he said, “His Grace has averted disaster in the matter of the lawsuit, by offering the injured parties a large financial settlement to keep the matter out of the public eye. It seems that the Viscount Blount has fallen upon hard financial times, and was about to be publicly disgraced as a result of mounting gaming debts that he has found himself unable to repay.”

  “So the Duke has agreed to pay off his debts?” Charlotte was dumbfounded. What sort of man would do that for people he had no blood ties with? Was this a sign of guilt, or of a kind-hearted man? She decided that perhaps it was both, and that guilt was a good sign for a man who could walk through the world largely unscathed if he so chose.

  “He has indeed, Miss Williams, and added a small additional sum as further incentive to end the matter peaceably.”

  Charlotte did not dare ask how Mr Milton came by such detailed knowledge of the outcome, though she imagined if His Grace had any of his manservants with him when business was being conducted, there would be more than enough gossip to bring home.

  That night in bed, she thought about all she had learned since her arrival regarding her employer, and wished she could explain why someone who to all appearances was more rake than nobleman should have so entwined her conscious mind, and stirred her heart. She was not a green girl, nor fanciful by nature, and yet she found herself unable to rid her heart and mind of the foolish dreams that had edged their way in. She would need to be more vigilant. Her sister’s visit would help with that. She would share what little she knew of him and hear what her aunt and her sister made of his character.

  Saturday arrived and Charlotte rose to meet the dawn. The servants had the afternoon off to visit the fair, though a few would be attending the Duke as he made his rounds. They were busy preparing the picnic both for themselves and their master, and Charlotte would not see them till later. She had spoken briefly to the Duke, informing him of her aunt’s and sister’s visit, and he had given her permission to leave earlier to be with them for breakfast. He had even seen to her transport, and she made a mental note to thank him again for his unexpected generosity. However, she also determined that it would be best that she never be alone in his company. She was sure it would be possible to avoid him, once she made her introductions to her relations and said her thanks. Her aunt was a sharp-eyed woman, and the last thing she wanted was to have her aunt recognize the tenor of her thoughts where the Duke was concerned.

  The gig stopped in front of the Bird and Bottle Inn, and the coachman helped her to dismount. She thanked him with a smile, and he nodded and drove off. Going in search of her aunt and sister, she found them just descending the stairs, and there were happy greetings all round, Charlotte found herself hugged and kissed as though she had been away for a lot longer than a few weeks. They went together into the large dining room of the inn, and sat down to a hearty breakfast, which her aunt had ordered the previous evening, upon their arrival. Over sausages and sweet breads, beans and toast, Charlotte caught up on all that she had been missing.

  “And how have things been here with you, my dear?” her aunt asked, sipping the strong coffee that she preferred with her morning meal.

  “It has been interesting, Aunt,” she said, “in more ways than one.” She lowered her voice on the last few words, and her aunt raised a quizzical brow. “I
will explain when we are out of earshot. I would not wish to be caught gossiping about my betters.”

  Amelia giggled, and her aunt merely finished her coffee. They decided that they would return to the inn before she returned to Marbleton House so she could take the things they had brought for her back with her, and set off for the village green, where most of the activities were to transpire. As they walked along, her aunt came back to the subject of her time so far.

  “Well, apart from Eliza’s being a difficult child in the beginning — and heaven be thanked she has come round nicely —there has been a lot of bustle in the household over the Duke’s paramours.”

  “Is he a scandalous man?” her aunt asked, brows raised. “We cannot have you living in the house of a reprobate.”

  “Judge for yourselves,” Charlotte said, and proceeded to share with them all she had learned.

  At the end of her telling, she asked, “So, what say you both? Is he a reprobate, and should I be concerned for my own reputation?”

  “Poor man!” Amelia said. “To be forced into marriage against his will.”

  “Don’t be so quick to sympathize, Amelia,” their Aunt reprimanded her. “He is a man, and has the power of choice. What he did was wrong. However,” she added, “it seems he is a man of conscience, which is all to the good. And you say he has made no advances of any kind towards you?”

  “None, Aunt.” Charlotte was happy to reassure her on that score. “In fact, we have only spoken three times since I have been here, and he has only been to the schoolroom once.”

  “Does he care for his nieces?” she wanted to know. “You can usually tell a great deal about a man by the way he treats his dependents.”

  “He is a generous and tolerant uncle as far as I can tell,” Charlotte said. “And the girls enjoy the times they get to spend with him, as much as they enjoy the privileges he has allowed them.”

  Her aunt considered it for a moment, and then declared herself pleased that Charlotte had found an employer who could be trusted to provide for his family and treat his servants well, even if he was prone to making mistakes in his personal life. She did not ask how old he was, and as Charlotte did not know nor care, it was probably best all round. They spent the rest of the morning watching puppet shows and boxing matches, marvelling at the displays of strength, and at the exotic animals. By lunch time, they were hot and tired, and ready for a cool drink and a sit down. Charlotte led them over to the encampment which housed the Duke’s party, and her friends among the servants. Introductions were made, and the Duke himself came over to introduce himself to her aunt and sister.

  Charlotte strove to keep her countenance even, and was grateful that everyone’s attention was on her family. The Duke cut a fine figure in his breeches and Hessian boots, his waistcoat finely cut and emphasizing his manly beauty. His hair was windblown, and even that was for her a lovely sight. She managed not to stare, though she did take surreptitious glances whenever it was safe to do so. She was glad she had chosen to dress up her grey gown with a deep blue scarf that she had brought with her to vary the nature of her attire, and draw attention away from the fact that she had so few gowns to begin with. The Duke took her aunt’s arm and led her over to his table where he invited her to sit with him for lunch, and Charlotte and Amelia sat with Mrs Thomson.

  Lunch was a happy affair. The girls shared stories of their growing up with the housekeeper, and she marvelled that they had managed to turn out so well, for all they had been such tearaways as little girls. After lunch, the servants began to prepare for the return trip to the manor house, while Charlotte and her relatives returned to the inn. The Duke invited them to dinner, and to spend the night at Marbleton House. It was an unexpected invitation, and as he insisted, they gave in gracefully, and retrieved their belongings from the inn, paying their bill and waiting until his carriage came round to convey them to his residence. As the servants had not expected guests, no rooms had been prepared. However since the house party had so recently been concluded and his great aunt expected shortly, the ladies were put up in grand style in the rooms being readied for her arrival.

  Charlotte took them up to the schoolroom, once they had had their things taken to the guest room, and then had asked Molly to bring the girls down to meet her family. Eliza, of course, was full of questions, which Amelia patiently answered, while Mary Anne sat quietly watching and shyly answering whatever questions were put to her. For being so well behaved, Charlotte promised them an extra half an hour before bed, and they skipped away happily with Molly, just in time for the ladies to tidy themselves before dinner.

  “In all, it has been a pleasant day,” Aunt Anne said at the end of dinner, turning to the Duke with a smile. “Thank you, Your Grace, for your very kind invitation, and for a delicious repast. But my nieces and I must retire now. Amelia and I leave tomorrow, and we would like to visit your chapel before we do so, if that is agreeable to you.”

  She rose as she spoke, and the girls rose with her, Charlotte biting back a smile at how neatly her aunt had included her in the call to retire. She could not have asked for a more attentive chaperone if she were being courted by the Duke, who rose when they did, escorting her aunt to the door, the girls trailing behind them.

  “It was my pleasure, Mrs Brington, and I would be very pleased if you would add to our vicar’s congregation on the morrow. He will appreciate your visit.”

  Goodnights were said, and the girls followed their aunt up the stairs, Charlotte having to leave them to go to her own rooms on the far side of the house. She took her gifts with her, her mind full of the day’s adventures, and before she knew it, she was asleep.

  Next day she woke early as always, and was ready for services before her aunt and sister, for whom the breezy country air and all of yesterday’s activities had proved too much. Eventually they were ready, and hurried to the chapel for early services. The building was old stone and sunshine, the stained glass simple but elegant, and the sermon, when the vicar got to it, plain spoken and powerful. Charlotte felt a pang of homesickness as she listened, thinking of her own father performing this very function in another village.

  This vicar was a young man with a new wife and no children, and his living was larger than her father’s. And yet he appeared to be as humble, and as focused on the salvation of his congregation as her father was.

  Back at the house, they were given a feast for breakfast, and then it was time for them to leave. Charlotte felt melancholy trying to assert itself, but she shook it off valiantly. She had been blessed to have her relatives with her, and she would not spoil the memory with maudlin tears.

  She hugged and kissed her aunt and sister, handed them the letters she had written to Emma and her parents, and wished them a safe journey back home. She stood in front of the manor house and watched the carriage until it disappeared, waving madly until she could no longer see her sister’s hand. Then she went back indoors, hurrying away to her rooms before anyone could stop her, needing some space to bring her rioting emotions back in control. She had not realised how much she had missed her home until she had seen her relatives the day before. And with all the thoughts about the Duke battling with her melancholy, she knew she would be poor company.

  SIX

  The next week went by as quickly as the last had done, and by its end, Charlotte was back to her usual calm self. She had managed to avoid any contact with the Duke, walked when she knew he was otherwise occupied or absent from the premises, and so was able to keep thoughts about him to a minimum. And then his Great Aunt Agnes arrived and Charlotte once again found herself battling her inexplicable attraction to a man who was unattainable.

  It began with dinner that second evening of his aunt’s visit, when she was invited by Lady Agnes to join them in the drawing room after dinner. The interrogation began almost immediately.

  “Edmund tells me you have managed to tame Eliza, and have won over Mary Anne completely, Miss Williams,” Lady Agnes said, her booming tones ringing
in the otherwise quiet room. “And he seems to approve of your methods. How exactly have you managed that? Because as I recall, before his dear brother departed, he had a difficult time keeping governesses. You are very young to be so accomplished. What is your secret, child?”

  Charlotte gritted her teeth. She hated being called ‘child’ in that condescending tone of voice, and she hated the assessing look that took in her blue gown and saw immediately how poor it was. But this was her employer’s aunt, an aged woman who expected nothing less than total obedience from those beneath her. She held her irritation in check and answered carefully, remembering how a month earlier her words in answer to that same question had caused a rift between the Duke and herself.

  “I give them something they want when they do well, Your Ladyship, and take something away when they do not,” she explained as patiently as she could.

  Charlotte could feel the Duke’s eyes on her, and she valiantly refused to look at him, keeping her whole attention on his aunt.

  “Ah, rewards and punishments, eh?” Her shock at Lady Agnes’s words must have been visible, because the Duke smiled, and his aunt said, “That is what it is, is it not? And a very good strategy at that!”

  Charlotte replied, “Yes, Your Ladyship, I have found it to be quite effective.”

  “And I have no doubt that you learned those skills at your mother’s knees. Your father is a vicar, is he not?”

  “Yes, Your Ladyship, he is.” Charlotte was proud of what her father did, and made no bones about showing it.

  “Well, you can tell him from me that he has done well in raising a sensible daughter. Do you play?”

  The rapid change of subject startled Charlotte who stuttered a “Yes,” in reply.

  “Let us hear what you can do, then,” she demanded, and sat back, her hands holding her cane like a tool for punishment, should Charlotte perform poorly.