She wanted to ask him to refute the housekeeper’s most wounding assertions, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. What difference did it make anyway? Their time for being master and guest was over. ‘I suppose life works best if we all keep to our proper place.’
He sighed. ‘I hope you didn’t believe any of her lies—that disgusting bit about us “mocking you”! Surely you know both Saulter and I were sincere in our admiration of your musical talent and your conversational abilities, and truly enjoyed the evenings you dined with us.’
She hadn’t dared ask, but a warm glow lit within her to hear that her instincts had been correct. ‘Thank you for affirming that.’
Even reassured, her feelings were still too unsettled to want to think any more about the relationship between them. ‘How did you manage to search her rooms undetected?’ she said instead, veering back to the safer matter of the housekeeper.
‘I enlisted Mansfield’s aid. After returning from talking with the village merchants, I had him lure her down to the cellar with the excuse that he didn’t think the amount of wine and sherry that had been delivered matched the entries he’d checked in her ledgers. Of course, she had to accompany him to make a count of the bottles and try to persuade him that the figures were correct.’
‘Devious,’ she said with a smile.
‘I hope so. It took only a few minutes of glancing through her ledger to confirm all her entries exceeded the amounts the merchants had given me. I went directly to her room and began ransacking it. Fortunately, just before they emerged from the cellar, I remembered the old desk had a secret drawer and found the stash of coins. I should have dismissed her in any event, but without that proof, I wouldn’t be able to hold the threat of prosecution over her. I intended to confront her tonight, after I returned from dinner. I’m just glad I arrived back soon enough to spare you some of her invective.’
Olivia took a deep breath. ‘Imagine, a household without Mrs Wallace’s malevolent presence. Mary is going to be ecstatic!’
‘I think we will all be relieved. Again, I owe you thanks. You’re becoming quite the Somers Abbey’s saviour.’
Ah, that she might be his! But if she did not mean to take to heart anything else from the housekeeper’s spiteful words, she should be mindful of the last taunt thrown her way.
The Colonel wasn’t the only one who must keep desire in check. She didn’t need to end up like Mrs Wallace, just one more female servant who found herself in the master’s bed—before being discarded.
Finishing her wine, she set down the glass. ‘I think I’m revived now. Perhaps the girls and I could drive over and pick up Mrs Travers tomorrow.’
He shook his head. ‘I’ll send over a wagon. She’ll probably have more than a bandbox she wants to move into the housekeeper’s room.’
‘The children will enjoy having her near. They can pester her every day for more stories!’
‘I shall like having her about the house, too.’ Tossing down the last of his own wine, he stood as she rose. ‘Thank you again, Miss Overton. May you sleep well, knowing the dragon of Somers Abbey will be gone in the morning.’
She was chuckling at his image, glad to have restored the friendly rapport between them, as she walked to the door. Just before she went out, he said, ‘Mrs Wallace was wrong on every count, you know. You’re not “an ageing spinster”, but a young, dynamic, desirable woman. An employee of integrity whom I very much respect and one I would never insult by making a dishonourable proposal.’
Even if I wanted one?
But once again, in a few succinct phrases, he’d voiced the conclusion his actions had already been signalling to her. Yes, the attraction was there. But he didn’t wish to pursue any relationship beyond the formal link between them, nor would he ever act out of lust.
She would have to resign herself to that fact.
Chapter Fifteen
In the early morning, a few days later, Olivia lingered in her chamber before returning to her charges, rereading the note Mr Saulter had sent her. After thanking her again for her delightful company at dinner and for the excellent piano performances with which she’d entertained him afterwards, he’d ended by penning, ‘I don’t think Glendenning knows how lucky he is to have found you.’
Was he implying that he still believed the Colonel was attracted to her and ought to pursue that attraction? she wondered. Or might he be hinting of his own interest in her?
Not at all sure how to interpret his statement, she shook her head. Despite having had five Seasons, she had little experience with men. Even before she’d lost all her money, with her modest looks and minimum dowry, she’d not encountered any potential suitor who intrigued her enough to converse with him at length, to say nothing of flirting. She’d found working for the political causes that inspired her far more exciting than pretending interest in the few, boringly conventional society gentlemen who tried to engage her, gentlemen who didn’t attract her in the least.
She sighed. That was certainly not the case with the Colonel.
After placing the letter back in the drawer of the bedside table, she was walking back to the schoolroom when a squeal from Sophie startled her. Picking up her pace, she rushed into the room to find the two sisters tussling over possession of a chalkboard.
‘I had it first,’ Elizabeth said hotly, pulling the slate from her sister’s grip, then slapping her hand as she pushed her away, making Sophie whimper.
‘Elizabeth!’ Olivia chided. ‘You and Sophie need to share. And you should never, ever strike your sister.’
Looking suddenly aghast, Elizabeth froze. Alarm and trepidation replacing the anger in her eyes, she said ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Miss Overton. You—you won’t send me away, will you, because I was naughty?’
‘Of course I won’t send you away!’ Olivia said, struck by the girl’s anxiety. No wonder the sisters had been virtual pattern cards of perfection, if they feared any infraction of the rules would mean they’d be abandoned again. ‘I’m here to take care of you and I will do so for as long as you need me.’
Pulling both girls into a hug, she said to the elder, ‘You got angry and made a mistake. We all do sometimes. You just need to recognise you were wrong and try very hard not to make the same mistake again. Now,’ she continued, releasing them, ‘you must apologise to your sister.’
Elizabeth turned to her sibling. ‘I’m sorry, Sophie. I promise to share. And I’ll try not to hit you again—ever.’
Just then a shaft of morning light slid through the schoolroom window. Jumping up, Elizabeth ran over to look out. Turning to Olivia, she said, ‘Please, Miss Overton, may we go for a walk? It’s been raining and raining and raining! But it’s stopped now.’
The girls had seemed impatient and fretful—as Olivia had felt herself—after being cooped up for several days by foul weather. ‘I imagine it’s still too wet to walk around the grounds, but we could go to the walled garden. As long as you stay on the brick paths, you won’t get your shoes too wet or your petticoats muddy.’
‘Thank you, Miss Overton,’ Elizabeth cried, bounding over to the wardrobe to pull out her spencer. ‘I’m sorry I was naughty.’
‘I am, too—but I’m also a little bit pleased,’ Olivia told her with a smile as she helped Sophie into her outer garment. ‘If you forgot yourself enough to be naughty, it means that, deep down, you trust me to continue to care for you, even when your behaviour isn’t perfect. Now, let’s get a basket from the kitchen and collect some flowers while we’re out. We can arrange a bouquet for the table in the salon.’
* * *
In the meantime, Hugh lingered in the breakfast room, drinking another cup of coffee and trying to fight off a sense of melancholy. Having lived in self-imposed isolation for so long, he’d forgotten how enjoyable it was to have a friend around, someone to chat with on his way back and forth from the fields, to talk to about the wo
rk of restoring the Abbey, to dine with and share brandy and cigars with afterwards. He already missed his friend.
He also missed the distraction, and the buffer, Stephen had provided from Miss Overton. Having had his taste for companionship resurrected and knowing what a fine dinner companion and conversationalist she could be, he found it even harder to resist the temptation to ask her to join him occasionally. To seek her out for an afternoon chat when the girls were napping, or invite her to accompany him on a stroll through the gardens.
But it was imperative that he resist it. He’d already received several clear indications that his control over the desire she inspired in him was not as rock-solid as it should be. Loneliness, attraction and long-frustrated lust were a combustible combination he must be careful not to bring too close to her bright flame.
Unless...he could enjoy her company, as long as their meetings included his wards. He owed them a tour around the estate in any event. Perhaps, once the work on the north meadow was complete, he could take a day off and take them for a picnic on the heights across from Hunscombe Hill, with its beautiful views over the valley. At the very least, he could encourage their governess to bring the girls to the library for a longer visit every evening before dinner, so he’d be sure of seeing her at least once a day.
That approach might work, for it was slowly getting easier for him to tolerate being around his wards. The slash of pain that ripped through him at the sound of the children’s voices wasn’t as devastating and he was starting to see them—animated Elizabeth and still-silent Sophie—more as reflections of Robert rather than needle-sharp reminders of grief, guilt and loss.
He was wondering what he might say to coax Sophie into speaking to him when, coming from the direction of the walled garden, a distant scream shattered the silence.
A child’s scream.
Terror exploded in his chest. Tossing down his coffee cup, Hugh ran for the door to the garden.
* * *
Several more screams tormented him before he skidded to a halt on the brick walkway, peering down allées separated by fruit trees, once neatly espaliered on wooden railings, now riotously overgrown. The sounds seemed to come from the walk furthest from the kitchen, where his mother had trained her prized roses up the brick wall. Breaking back into a run, he headed there at full speed.
As he careened around the corner, he spied the group huddled together at the far back edge of the garden, surrounded by a cascade of roses, their rain-heavy heads drooping. As he approached, he scanned the girls, looking for blood, for limbs dangling at an awkward angle.
It wasn’t until he was nearly upon them that he concluded there were no visible injures. In fact, as he slowed his steps to approach the garden bench on which Miss Overton sat, he realised both girls were now...giggling?
Relief that they were unharmed was so strong, he felt light-headed.
‘You are all right, all of you?’ he demanded. ‘No one is injured?’
The smile with which Miss Overton had greeted him turned to a puzzled look, then one of contrition. ‘Oh, my, I’m so sorry! I thought we were far enough from the house not to be overheard.’
He shook his head. ‘I heard screams. I thought—’
Feeling dizzy, he sucked in a ragged breath.
Miss Overton slid over and patted the bench. ‘Please, sit. You ran all the way from the house, didn’t you? Elizabeth, take the scissors and go cut some of those pink flowers and white flowers, down there on the pathway. Sophie, you hold the flowers so your sister can snip them, but watch out for the thorns, just as I showed you. Then you can put them in the basket.’
As the girls walked away, Hugh sank gratefully on to the bench, heart still hammering in his chest. He pulled in several deep breaths, closing his eyes as he pushed from his mind the horrific image that had sped him from the breakfast room—a small body, broken and bleeding, gasping for air.
He opened them to find Miss Overton gazing at him, looking concerned—and guilty. ‘I’m so very sorry to have worried you,’ she repeated. ‘I didn’t think anyone would be able to hear us in this far back corner of the garden. Obviously, I was mistaken. I shall wait for better weather, so we may walk further away the next time we want to indulge.’
‘What happened?’ he demanded once he’d caught his breath.
Blushing a little, looking as guilty as a schoolgirl caught with treats in her hand, she said, ‘You see, the girls—and I—were restless after being confined to the house because of the rain storms. So I told them what my brother and I used to do when we were finally able to go outside again after being trapped indoors by snow or bad weather.’
Hugh angled his head at her. ‘You...screamed?’
Her giggle was as engaging as her charges’. ‘Yes. We used to have contests, to see who could scream the loudest or the longest. Of course, we only indulged in this when we were quite far from the house.’
Their flowers cut and scissors set inside the basket, the girls skipped back to the bench. ‘I like the screaming game, Miss Overton,’ Elizabeth said as they halted. ‘Can we play it again?’
‘Yes, but we must go further away. The Colonel heard us and was worried because he thought you were hurt.’
‘I’m not hurt, sir,’ she said, grinning at him. ‘The game is very amusing. You must play it, too.’
‘We’ll play again later,’ Miss Overton said. ‘Now, you girls may go pick some of the wildflowers at the corner before we return to the house.’
His heartbeat, which had finally settled into normal rhythm, kicked up again as the girls scampered off—leaving him close enough to their governess to inhale her faint scent of roses.
Thank goodness the girls were still within sight.
‘The screaming game?’ he repeated, shaking his head, distracting himself by trying to picture the quiet, competent, serene Miss Overton running through a meadow, yelling at the top of her voice. ‘Miss Overton, you never fail to amaze.’
‘It’s an effective technique for relieving frustration,’ Miss Overton told him with a grin. ‘But only if you can get far away from everyone. Not suitable for London, so I haven’t played for years—much as I’ve needed it at times!’
Her smile faded. ‘I am very annoyed with myself for letting our silly game alarm you. I hope you know I would never wish to cause you anxiety.’
No, you have only tried to ease my burdens.
‘I know. I suppose when it comes to a child’s welfare I have a tendency to...overreact.’
Now that it is too late.
‘Most understandable. It’s such a delicate balance, isn’t it? You must care for children and do all you can to keep them from harm, but you can never entirely protect them. I do have some idea of the grief and guilt that occurs when you cannot. My older brother died from a sudden illness when I was a girl. I don’t think my family ever truly recovered from the experience.’
He’d never talked to anyone about the devastation of losing Drew. But somehow, in the aftermath of his recent terror and with the warmth of her sympathetic understanding wrapped around him, he found himself saying, ‘With all the poisonous creatures in India—snakes, lizards, spiders, scorpions—Drew was never allowed anywhere without someone to keep watch. But illness can strike so swiftly. He seemed perfectly fine when I left him that afternoon for the regimental dinner. My wife...sent me a note, saying he’d fallen ill, asking me to return home. She often sent me messages asking that I come home for some urgent matter that turned out to be a squabble among the servants, or a lizard that had got caught in the pantry. So I...ignored it. Though I did leave early, long before the group broke up, by then, it was too late.’
He gritted his teeth, nausea spiralling in his gut, the accusations Lydia had flung at him as she pummelled her fists against his chest echoing in his ears.
‘How could you be so neglectful?’
‘All you
think about is your precious career!’
‘You should have been more concerned with Drew’s well-being!’
‘Had she sent for a doctor?’ Miss Overton’s soft tones startled him, recalling him from the morass of memory.
‘No. No, she was waiting for me to do that.’
Miss Overton frowned. ‘Could the doctor only be summoned by the military member?’
He looked at her, puzzled. ‘It generally was done that way, though it wasn’t absolutely required. But Lydia was...used to having me handle everything.’
Miss Overton shook her head. ‘I don’t wish to sound critical, but if someone I loved was gravely ill, I would have run for the doctor myself and dragged him back by the collar, if necessary. Although, if the fever were as deadly as it appears, perhaps there wouldn’t have been anything he could have done anyway.’
His stomach still churning, Hugh nodded. ‘I sent for him the minute I got home. He told me the same thing after he arrived. It didn’t help. And I don’t think my wife believed him.’
‘She blamed you.’
Suddenly weary, he simply nodded.
For a long time they were both silent, Hugh fighting back the memories. Finally, Miss Overton said softly, ‘Though it’s the height of presumption for me to venture an opinion, I can’t help thinking your wife insisted on blaming you because the guilt she felt herself was too terrible to bear. My mother felt the same, when my brother died. That she was his mother. That she should have been able to do something to save him. Even though the doctor and everyone else assured her that there was nothing more she could have done.’
‘Nothing more you could have done.’
The regimental doctor had repeated it over and over as Hugh stood by his son’s bed, locked in a grief so terrible, so painful, he couldn’t move, could barely breathe.
To his shame, he felt tears well up. Dashing them away with one hand, he muttered, ‘Sorry.’
While he sat there, buffeted again by grief, he felt her take his hand and twine her fingers in his. ‘No, I’m sorry, so sorry,’ she whispered. ‘For bringing it all back. I promise in future to be more careful.’
The Tempting of the Governess Page 17