‘In such charming company—and I don’t mean yours, Glendenning—’ Stephen looked at Miss Overton ‘—I expect to be delightfully entertained. As for the meal, I’m sure whatever courses are sent up will be delicious. Glendenning often expressed how much he missed Mrs Potter’s cooking while we were in India, Miss Overton,’ Stephen told her. ‘I’m looking forward to sampling her expertise.’
‘In my limited experience, she serves a fine meal,’ Miss Overton replied, smiling at Saulter.
Watching closely, Hugh judged that smile neither shy nor excessively forward, as it might have been were she unsure of her place or of how to behave. No, it was the serene smile of a lady who felt entirely at home in the dining room of a gentleman’s manor house.
Though Hugh had suspected that would be the case, none the less he released a small sigh of relief. He would have felt terrible, after having practically coerced Miss Overton to attend, if she had turned out to be ill at ease in company—or uncomfortable with his friend’s gallant remarks.
She seemed to be taking both in her stride.
‘You’ve not been here long then, Miss Overton?’ Stephen was asking.
‘Just a few weeks. Though I’ve not yet had time to explore very far, I’ve found the area lovely. Are you familiar with Somerset, Mr Saulter?’
‘No, this is my first visit.’
‘Somers Abbey is such an interesting building. You must get the Colonel to tell you its history.’
‘Murdered monks in the basements, perhaps? Or priest’s holes hidden in the walls?’
Hugh laughed, gratified at how deftly Miss Overton had skirted around a discussion of his wards. He couldn’t be sure, but he guessed she was trying to avoid having the conversation turn in a direction that might be upsetting for him. He was both grateful and beginning to believe that inviting her to dine had been a splendid idea after all.
‘If you truly are interested, Saulter, I’ll give you the ghost’s tour later.’
His friend shuddered. ‘That should help me sleep better at night!’
After Mansfield brought the first course in, Miss Overton turned to Saulter. ‘You are back from India on home leave, I understand? Will you be in England long?’
‘For several months, at least. A chance to enjoy cool weather and green meadows before going back.’
‘You and the Colonel were both in the army together, were you not? The Queen’s Second Foot?’
‘Yes. As the military mission was winding down, I transferred to the civil side. I’m a younger son, with no property to return to, so making a career in the India service seemed the best way to secure my future.’
‘You might have heard, then, of a soldier who married the sister of a good friend. Lieutenant Johnnie Trethwell? I believe he served in the Second. He was invalided out of the service over a year ago.’
‘Why, yes! You know Johnnie?’
‘I only met him briefly, at his wedding to my friend’s sister. But she related to me some of the wonderful tales he told of his time there.’
‘That sounds like Johnnie!’ Saulter said, smiling. ‘He earned quite a reputation in the service. Perhaps the best India hand we had for reconnoitring the countryside or going out in mufti to discover what was going on in the marketplaces and bazaars. Although Englishmen who only wanted to recreate “Little England” in the cantonments scorned him, those of us who had more appreciation for the land and culture found him compelling—and learned a great deal from him. A shame about his injuries. Though I understand he married an heiress, I’ve heard he intends to return to India, this time on a trading venture. If anyone can sniff out the best swords, sabres and jewels to delight English collectors, it’s Johnnie.’
Catching Hugh’s eye, Stephen raised an eyebrow. Hugh knew exactly what that gesture meant. If Miss Overton were good friends with the sister of Trethwell’s heiress bride, she must once have been well placed socially.
Certainly that sumptuous gown argued that she’d formerly occupied a much more elevated position in society. How in the world had she ended up as a governess in the Somerset countryside?
‘If you, too, found the land fascinating, I can understand why you transferred to the civil service. Did you receive any additional training at Haileybury or the College of Fort William?’
Stephen’s widened eyes reflected Hugh’s own surprise at how knowledgeable she appeared. ‘I returned for some language training at Haileybury. Do you have relatives or friends in India service, Miss Overton? You seem to know all about the process of becoming an officer there.’
‘No one in my own family has served there, no. But my good friend has long been fascinated by India and hopes some day to travel there herself, if her husband’s duties in Parliament permit. She’s collected all the travel accounts she could find written by officers, officials and civilians who’ve lived there and been kind enough to lend some to me. The country sounds so interesting.’
‘Which accounts have you read?’
‘Mr Forbes’s Oriental Memoirs and some of the journals of the Marquess of Hastings, from when he was Governor-General and Commander-in-Chief of the army. Although my favourites are Captain Skinner’s Excursions in India and Captain Mundy’s Pen and Pencil Sketches of his tours through the countryside. Such wonderful drawings!’
‘Ah, you are well read! Perhaps you need to travel to India and experience the land for yourself, eh, Glendenning?’
She smiled. ‘I’m not sure I’m brave enough for that!’
‘Nonsense. You sound entirely intrepid! Travelling there is half the fun, isn’t it, Glendenning! Remember those regimental voyages up the river? Imagine, if you can, Miss Overton, a flotilla of almost three hundred vessels of all shapes and sizes, from a sixteen-oared budgerow to a tiny skiff! Cook boats, baggage boats, hospital boats, soldiers’ boats, officers’ houseboats, boats loaded with carriages and gigs, provision boats filled with bellowing goats, protesting horses, nervous cows, squawking ducks, and all of this tended by a horde of servants in all varieties and colours of dress!’
She laughed. ‘It sounds mesmerising!’
‘Certainly loud, wasn’t it, Glendenning? Then, as the sun began to lower, the navigator of the lead vessel would choose some auspicious place for the entourage to moor for the night. Out would come the planks linking boat to shore and on to land would scurry the servants, some setting up fires to cook the dinners, some wading into the river to begin the day’s washing, others bringing the livestock on shore to graze, the headman going off to the nearest bazaar to barter for necessary supplies... Ah, and what wonderful meals they concocted in the open, with nearly as many courses as if we’d been at home in the cantonment! Quite extraordinary, wasn’t it, Glendenning?’
Hugh found himself nodding. ‘So it was. What I remember best are those evenings ashore, relaxing as night fell and the cooks prepared dinner for the various messes. Listening to the babble of voices in several different languages, savouring the scent of garlic and ghee, watching the fireflies rise like sparks into the darkening sky, sometimes catching sight of a flock of wild peacocks returning to their night roost, iridescent blue in the moonlight.’
‘It sounds beautiful and how beautifully you describe it, Colonel,’ she murmured, her compliment sending a wave of delight through him. ‘I can understand why you wanted to continue serving there, Mr Saulter.’
As Hugh listened to Miss Overton’s questions and Stephen’s answers, he found himself beginning to relax and realised he’d been more on edge than he knew. But both his friend and the governess focused on exchanging information about the flora and fauna, the magnificent buildings and ruins, the colourful, ever-changing landscape, and the fascinating diversity of peoples and cultures. Not once did they stray into anything more personal.
He now had something else for which to thank Miss Overton, Hugh realised. Just as their chat in the attic had resurrected t
he fond memories of Charles that had been buried under the anger and resentment of returning to find his childhood home suffering from his brother’s neglect, tonight’s discussion had unearthed happier recollections of the time he’d spent abroad, before the tragedies that had devastated him.
It was as if, after wandering for long, barren years in the hulk of a burned-out dwelling, one suddenly discovered a gold coin or a sparkling gem gleaming out of the blackened wreckage.
Not that any quantity of fond memories could sweeten the bitter aftermath of those tragedies. But the happy moments were as real and valid as the painful times. Recovering them warmed and soothed him.
As much as Miss Overton brightened and graced his dinner table. How easily, unconsciously, she’d assumed a hostess’s role.
A vague feeling of guilt soured that pleasant observation. Though he’d certainly not intended to, by employing her as a governess, he was taking advantage of whatever tragedy had overwhelmed her. For as much as her previous behaviour had given him strong hints, tonight’s dinner revealed with unmistakable clarity that Miss Overton had been bred to be an aristocrat’s wife. She should be presiding over her own dinner table and tending her own children.
Ever since her arrival, she’d shown herself to be a confident and accomplished woman—not at all a shy, biddable female who waited for others to tell her what to do. The circumstances that had stolen away the life she’d previously known must have been dire and irreversible, else she would have been clever enough to overcome them.
Sighing, he shook his head. He really didn’t want to wonder about her past. Certainly, he wouldn’t abuse her privacy by asking vulgar, intrusive questions about it. But, nonsensical as it was, he had this strong urge to discover what those circumstances were and try to make them right, if he could.
And then he laughed soundlessly at himself.
The answer to the riddle was almost certainly a sudden loss of funds. With him barely able to make his own estate profitable, he had no assets left over to assist her in buying back her life.
The only other reason for a lady’s sudden loss of family and position would be—scandal.
Has she been disgraced? Looking at her now in that figure-hugging gown, he could understand how some unprincipled man, inflamed with lust, might have been fired by the desire to possess her. Had she been seduced and abandoned, first by her lover, then by her family?
Or was it only his own increasing desire for her that led him to imagine such a scenario?
He needed to reel in those desires and put a stop to this line of speculation. As forthright, intelligent and perceptive as Miss Overton was, he couldn’t really see her being lured down the path to seduction by some slick-tongued scoundrel.
Preoccupied by his thoughts, he was startled when Miss Overton suddenly stood up. Stephen must have finished relating his latest story, Hugh realised—an account to which he had been paying no attention whatsoever.
‘I should leave you gentlemen to your brandy and cigars.’
‘If you must,’ said Saulter, who had risen when she did, Hugh belatedly springing up after them. ‘But we won’t linger for long. Promise you will await us in the salon for tea.’
Smiling, she shook her head. ‘I appreciate the invitation, but the tasks for this Cinderella begin very early. I must thank you both for a delicious and enjoyable dinner, and take my leave. Colonel, Mr Saulter.’
With that, she curtsied to their bows and walked from the room.
Stephen waited until the echo of her footsteps faded before turning to Hugh. ‘You blighter! Where did you steal her from? It’s quite obvious Miss Overton is a well-born lady from a genteel household. How did she end up a governess?’
Hugh shook his head. ‘I have no idea. I hired her through an agency. One would expect a governess to be of gentle birth, but not until this evening has she revealed her pedigree so...strikingly. Up until now, she has gone about quietly, keeping to herself, garbed from head to toe in forgettable black. I did note how competently she took charge and there were definite indications of a managing nature, but until tonight, I never thought to question how she came to be in service.’
Stephen made a grimace of disgust. ‘Honestly, Hugh, for an intelligent man, sometimes you can be as dull as dirt. You never wondered about her background until tonight?’
‘To be fair, until tonight, I’ve not seen her dress or behave other than as a governess,’ he defended himself.
Which was not precisely true. Had she not challenged him about the girls from the first, with none of the deference he would have expected from an employee? Hadn’t she confessed herself from the very beginning to be ‘managing’, informing him she had run her mother’s household? Hadn’t she told him she’d used her ‘mistress-of-the-household voice’ to commandeer a vehicle to travel to Bristol?
If he were brutally honest, he’d not wanted to acknowledge what these clues revealed about her. Because as long as he could tell himself she was merely another female member of his staff...as long as he refused to see her as a well-bred lady of his own class...he could avoid dealing with the fascination and physical attraction she stirred in him.
Stephen raised a sceptical eyebrow, clearly not buying his line of defence. ‘You had no inkling at all?’
‘Well, of course I had some. But it wouldn’t have been polite to go prying into her background. We all of us have secrets—and pain—we don’t wish to share with the world.’
That oblique remark was reminder enough to douse Stephen’s irritation. ‘Very true,’ he admitted with a sigh. ‘It is a conundrum, isn’t it? But if I’m remembering, the heiress Trethwell married was the daughter of Lord Vraux—a very wealthy baron. If your Miss Overton was a good friend to the sister of one of Vraux’s daughters, she’s not just the gently bred offspring of some obscure country parson, she must have moved in the first circles of society. How does someone like that end up a governess?’
‘The usual way, probably. Somehow her family lost all their money and left her with no dowry.’
He wouldn’t insult Miss Overton’s honour by mentioning his other speculation.
‘With connections as elevated as those, I should have thought her family could have found her a husband rich enough not to have to worry about dowry.’
Hugh shrugged. ‘As you know, I went straight from university to the army. I never took part in London society and have no idea how things are done there.’
‘You also display a deplorable lack of curiosity! Not a sin I possess. I already planned to spend some time in London before I return to India. While I’m there, I’ll see what I can find out about our puzzling Miss Overton. Shall I write you about what I discover?’
‘Would it make any difference in her circumstances?’
‘Probably not,’ Stephen admitted.
‘Then I prefer to continue thinking of her simply as my wards’ excellent governess.’
‘She’s shown herself to be excellent at several things, conversation being one. You must have her dine with us every evening I’m here.’
See her every night, gowned in that siren’s call of silk? Alarm and insidious desire warred in his belly. ‘Probably not good to set that sort of precedent. Whatever her birth, she is now simply a governess.’
‘Pish-tosh!’ Stephen said dismissively. ‘I doubt she’ll start taking on airs merely because you deigned to invite her to dinner! Besides, after I leave, you can go back to dining on a tray in your library, if you like. But for now, your duty as a host is to entertain me and dining with that intelligent, lovely creature promises the best entertainment Somers Abbey currently has to offer. At least, until I beat you at cards tonight.’
‘You can try,’ Hugh said, trying to slip by without giving an answer.
‘First, agree that you will invite Miss Overton to dine with us for the length of my visit.’
He should have
known he couldn’t elude his persistent friend. Telling himself his host’s duty obligated him to entertain Saulter as best he could, he gave a reluctant nod. ‘Very well—only because I need to make your visit as pleasant as possible.’
‘Aren’t you glad I’m giving you an excuse to do what you really want to do anyway?’ Stephen shot back.
He had to admit—to himself, if not to Stephen—that tonight had been the most enjoyable dinner he’d experienced since his return from India. So enjoyable he could almost forget...
But, no, he would never be able to forget.
‘I’ll send her an invitation tomorrow.’
‘Good. But let me write the note. I don’t trust you not to dash off something so imperious she will deny us her company. I’ll make it charming enough to entice her.’
‘When did you say you were leaving?’
Clapping him on the shoulder, Stephen laughed. ‘Let’s get that brandy and then we’ll see how much social isolation has deteriorated your skill at whist.’
Though he might claim to Stephen that inviting Miss Overton was just a favour for his friend, Hugh knew he, too, would look forward to seeing her again in a social role.
He’d forgotten how delightful it could be to have a lovely, intelligent hostess sitting at his table. He would never have one again, permanently...but Stephen’s visit gave him the excuse to savour that pleasure—and the charm of Miss Overton’s company at dinner—for a few more days before they must both revert to the restrictions of their respective roles.
Chapter Ten
Two evenings later, Olivia found herself once again standing in her bedchamber as Mary helped her dress for dinner with the Colonel and Mr Saulter. Watching in the mirror as Mary eased the skirt of the evening gown over her head—this time, a deep green satin with moiré ribbon trimming at the bodice and hem—she thought ruefully that the last two evenings had been like living in a dream.
Somehow, she’d been transported from a lowly employee reduced to taking a tray alone in her room back into dining as the lady of birth she’d once been. The abrupt contrast made her a little giddy—but oh, how she loved it!
The Tempting of the Governess Page 11