by Laura Martin
‘Coward,’ he muttered to himself. He had never meant to speak to Miss Salinger in such a fashion, but as she’d confronted him again on his relationship with his nieces he’d felt overcome with dread. He’d needed to say anything to push her away, to stop her from seeing the fear that lay beneath his refusal to get close to the girls.
The look of surprise on her face had seared itself into his mind, as had the expression of disgust that had followed. Of course she was disgusted. He might have only been acquainted with the governess for a few days, but that was long enough to know she was generous and caring. The idea that he wouldn’t want to ease the suffering of his nieces would be difficult for her to comprehend.
He shook his head. He had to stay strong. He’d learnt a long time ago that caring wasn’t always the best option. Trying to conform to everyone’s wishes, trying to do the right thing could end up in disaster. No, he knew his strengths and caring for two young girls was not one of them. The last time he’d been asked to care for someone vulnerable it had not been a success. He was smart enough not to make the same mistake twice.
He felt his resolve strengthen. This wasn’t his life, it wasn’t the life he had ever asked for or expected. His brother had been raised to be the Earl, his lesser importance had been made clear from a very young age by his father. He’d built a life for himself, been successful in the navy and then his shipping business, without any help from his family. That was his life and there was no room for two little girls in it. There was no point in them becoming attached to him or him developing an affection for them. In a few weeks, maybe months, he would be going back to India and it would be easier for everyone if they barely noticed him gone.
Still, he needed to apologise to Miss Salinger. There was never an excuse for rudeness, especially not to someone whose only motivation was trying to protect a child.
Rising, he walked over, crouching down as he reached the grave.
‘There,’ Miss Salinger said, pulling at the last of the weeds. ‘That looks better.’
Priscilla was quiet, her serious little face white and unreadable, but she gripped Theodosia’s hand tightly.
‘Goodbye, Mama,’ Theodosia said as they stood up.
Priscilla turned to Miss Salinger, fixing her with her wide eyes. ‘Thank you,’ she said, so quietly it could hardly be heard above the wind.
‘You’re welcome, Priscilla.’
‘Can we come back?’
‘Of course. Perhaps every couple of weeks we could bring fresh flowers and tidy things up. If Lord Westcroft would be kind enough to allow us the carriage.’
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
Priscilla acknowledged him with the briefest look, then edged a little closer to Miss Salinger, allowing the governess to take her hand to steady her over the rough ground. It was a breakthrough, one that was well deserved on the part of Miss Salinger.
‘Shall we walk into the village before returning home?’ Matthew suggested. ‘It’s pleasant to be out.’
Miss Salinger eyed the dark clouds and trees blowing in the wind, gathering her shawl closer around her shoulders.
‘We should show Miss Salinger the local area, it is to be her home after all.’
As they emerged on to the road he informed the coachman that they would be a few minutes longer and then walked briskly to catch up.
‘Lead the way, girls,’ he instructed. Theodosia skipped on ahead, seemingly undisturbed by their trip to the grave. Priscilla lingered for a moment, but soon hurried to join her sister.
Matthew offered Miss Salinger his arm. It would have been impolite for her to refuse, but he could see her contemplating doing just that. Eventually she relented, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow.
‘I wanted to apologise,’ he said quietly. ‘I was rude.’
Miss Salinger looked at him expectantly.
‘Go on,’ she said.
‘Go on?’
‘You said you want to apologise.’
He paused, wondering if any other woman of lower rank would challenge him like this. He stopped walking, waiting for her to turn towards him and lift her chin so she was looking him in the eye.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I spoke harshly.’
She studied his face and then nodded.
‘Would you allow me to explain?’
‘There is no need, Lord Westcroft. I understand my place.’
‘No,’ he said with feeling. ‘I want to explain.’ He realised it was the truth. It wasn’t just about keeping Miss Salinger here in Yorkshire, although that was one of his main concerns. He realised he didn’t want her to think too poorly of him.
That thought made him pause. For the past ten years he’d perfected not caring about what anyone else thought of him. He’d ignored the disappointment from first his father and then his brother when he had broken away from the family to make his own path in life and ever since he’d learned to not worry about other people’s opinions of him. But now here was this governess, a woman he’d only known for a few days, and he didn’t want her to think too badly of him.
‘I wasn’t born to be an earl. It wasn’t the future I was prepared for. I’ve built my life, a life I enjoy, in India. I will be going back there in a few months, I have to.’ As he spoke Miss Salinger gave him her full attention, her head tilted a little to one side as if weighing his words. ‘I love my nieces and I want to provide well for their future. Manresa House will always be their home more than mine and I hope with you they will be happy there.’
‘But you won’t be there,’ Miss Salinger said quietly.
‘No. I won’t. I don’t want Priscilla and Theodosia to form too much of an attachment to me, not if I will be gone out of their lives in a few months.’
‘You could stay.’
‘No. It isn’t an option.’ It was an option, just not one he would consider. Nor would he tell Miss Salinger the true reason for keeping his nieces at a distance. No one ever needed to know his shame, his inability to protect someone as vulnerable as Elizabeth had been.
Miss Salinger searched his face, her eyes flitting over him, assessing.
‘I understand,’ she said eventually, ‘but you’re wrong.’
‘Wrong?’
‘To keep the girls at a distance. You might be leaving soon, but right now they need you. They’ve lost both their parents...their whole world has changed. You’re not protecting them by pushing them away, you’re hurting them. They crave your attention, your love.’
‘I don’t think...’ He trailed off. He felt a panic rising inside him.
‘It doesn’t have to be much,’ she said softly. ‘An outing every so often, perhaps a few impromptu visits to the schoolroom. Dinner together once a week.’
‘You are a very persuasive woman, Miss Salinger,’ Matthew said quietly. He watched as she blushed at the compliment and not for the first time he had the urge to reach out and trail his fingers over her cheek, to tuck the stray strands of dark hair behind her ear and let his hand linger for a moment.
‘Does that mean you’ll do it?’
‘One outing. No more.’
Chapter Six
Swallowing hard, Selina put on her sunniest smile and ushered the two girls into the study, knocking briefly as they piled through the door.
‘Good afternoon, Lord Westcroft,’ she said, bobbing into the shallowest curtsy she could get away with. ‘We’re ready for a walk on the moors.’
Lord Westcroft looked at her from behind the huge desk, a frown forming on his face. She watched as his eyes narrowed. He was quick and clever, a hard man to outwit, and she could see he already knew what she was trying to do.
‘You enjoy that,’ he said evenly.
‘It’s going to be so much fun,’ Theodosia said, skipping over to his side, peering unabashedly at the documents spread over hi
s desk. ‘I shall walk with you if you like.’
Selina saw him consider. She had gambled on Lord Westcroft’s softer side, hoped that he would not refuse a direct request from his nieces to spend time with them, even if she had shamelessly engineered the situation.
‘Go find your coats, girls,’ he said, his voice restrained. He stood, waiting until they were out of the study before crossing to the door and closing it behind them. Selina tried to keep her breathing level, but as he turned around he was standing close, his broad shoulders brushing against hers.
Nervously she licked her lips. For a long few seconds he didn’t move, standing just out of her line of vision, and she wondered if he was about to send her to pack her bags.
‘I could have just refused Theodosia there and then,’ he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, but still managing to be forceful.
‘Yes.’
‘It would have upset her.’
‘Yes.’
‘But that is none of my concern. It would not have been my fault.’
He stepped closer and Selina caught a hint of his scent, a mixture of soap and something more exotic, something she couldn’t identify. She looked up, having to tilt her chin to meet his eye, and felt her heart begin to hammer in her chest. He was an attractive man, powerfully built with thick dark hair and a strong jaw. The sort of man her friends in Cambridge would have whispered about, hoping he would notice them.
She swallowed, feeling her mouth turn dry.
‘Why didn’t you?’ she asked quietly.
He took another step closer. Their bodies were almost touching now and Selina had the irrational urge to reach out and place a hand on his chest, to trail her fingers over the soft material of his waistcoat and feel the muscles underneath.
‘Why didn’t I?’ he repeated, as if he couldn’t believe she had the audacity to ask the question.
Every inch of her skin felt hot, unbearably so, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his. It was as though she were being hypnotised, her body coming under the spell of a man she would normally keep her distance from.
‘You could have said no.’
‘Perhaps I will.’
She shook her head, holding his gaze. Reminding herself she was doing this for the children, she dropped her shoulders and tilted her chin another notch. Now was not the time to be overcome with such irrational thoughts of desire.
‘No,’ she said quietly but firmly. ‘You won’t. No matter what you say you don’t want to hurt those girls.’
He looked at her silently for well over a minute, time in which Selina had to battle with herself to stay focused. Never would it be appropriate to let her body sway towards his, but she felt the pull, the primal urge to move closer to him.
‘This time I will overlook your behaviour,’ he said eventually. ‘But understand this, Miss Salinger, I will not be manipulated.’
‘Understood.’
He stepped away and Selina let out the breath she had been holding. Her body felt as though it was on fire, every sense was heightened and as Lord Westcroft moved back towards his desk she had to pinch the skin of her hand to bring herself back to reality.
‘Five minutes,’ he said abruptly. ‘I shall meet you in the hall.’
Selina stepped out of the study, knowing once again she’d been lucky to stay on the fine line between looking out for her charges and insubordination. As she walked through the dingy entrance hall she couldn’t help but let a smile creep on to her face. Lord Westcroft might protest his very hardest that he didn’t care, that he was capable of turning his back on his nieces and returning to India, but when faced with disappointing them he just wouldn’t do it, would he?
* * *
‘It’s only a little wind,’ Selina said in her most persuasive voice. Three pairs of eyes looked back at her dubiously.
‘There is no such thing as a little wind up here on the moors, Miss Salinger,’ Lord Westcroft said sternly. ‘The weather is a dangerous foe and none more so than the blowing winds from the east.’
‘It’ll be bracing, bring some colour to our cheeks.’
‘It’ll be cold,’ Priscilla countered.
‘And the exercise will be good for us.’
‘Unless we fall down a hole or get blown off a cliff.’
Selina wagged a finger admonishingly. ‘I might not know the area well, but I am well aware that we are at least five miles from the sea. There are no cliffs to fall off on the estate.’ She looked at all three in turn, trying out her most winning smile. ‘It is either this or two hours of Aristotle in the schoolroom.’
‘A threat indeed,’ Lord Westcroft murmured.
Silently Priscilla and Theodosia filed out, fastening their coats as they did so. Selina followed, feeling the presence of Lord Westcroft right behind her. Despite the biting wind she felt a warm glow deep inside. This was what the girls needed, time and attention from their guardian.
‘We’ll head out through the formal gardens and east over the parkland,’ he instructed the girls, watching as they linked arms and bent their heads to the wind.
Selina shivered. It was colder than she had first thought.
‘Regretting your suggestion?’
‘A little wind never hurt anyone.’
‘Apart from the thousands of sailors lost at sea each year in storms.’
‘Well, yes. Apart from them,’ she conceded. ‘It’s not good for the girls to be cooped up inside all day long.’
In truth, she had been the one becoming restless. She’d never been very good at staying inside for a whole day. In her old life in Cambridge she had often ventured out into the slippery cobbled streets even in the pouring rain to avoid a whole day spent inside.
‘Perhaps you are right,’ he conceded, ‘but personally I prefer a little warmth when I venture outside.’ He looked off into the distance, his eyes glazing over ever so slightly.
‘You’re imagining you’re back in India?’ she asked, watching as he turned his face up to the pale sun behind a fast-moving cloud.
‘Always. The heat is wonderful there and when the wind blows it’s a welcome reprieve from the humidity, not an icy blast that cuts right through you.’ His tone had softened a little as he spoke about the country he clearly considered to be his home.
‘Don’t you miss anything from England when you are away?’
Selina knew it was intrusive of her to ask such a personal question, but she was intrigued. Lord Westcroft was shrouded in mystery. She hardly knew anything about her employer apart from his eagerness to leave England at the earliest opportunity. The servants at Manresa House were a sullen group who seemed to disappear whenever she entered a room as if they didn’t want to engage with her and as such she hadn’t even heard any of the usual gossip servants were sometimes happy to share.
That in itself wasn’t altogether unusual. Selina had learned over the past year governesses occupied a strange position in the household. Not quite a servant, but still far removed from the family—it was a lonely position to be in.
‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘What is there to miss?’
‘I think I’d miss plenty. The way the earth smells after long-awaited rain. How the sun reflects off the stone of the colleges in Cambridge. The rivers and lakes and hills and farmland.’
‘You sound as though you love your home.’
Selina felt the hot sting of tears in her eyes as she always did when thinking of her father’s house, nestled in the very heart of Cambridge. She missed the cosy rooms and the ornate fireplaces and the pretty little garden where she had sat reading in the summer. Most of all she missed her father. The long talks, the feeling of being safe and loved. The security. Even when they had travelled the few miles to their country estate she had missed the cosy house in Cambridge where they’d spent most of their time.
‘I did.’
‘Did?’
‘When my father died eighteen months ago the house...’ She trailed off, blinking back the tears.
‘It went to someone else?’
She nodded. Even after all this time she couldn’t voice her half-brother’s name and the cruel glint in his eye as he’d demanded she leave.
‘My brother,’ she said eventually.
‘Your brother? But surely he should provide for you?’
Selina laughed, hearing the note of bitterness and stopping abruptly. She’d always promised herself she wouldn’t let her brother’s final act taint all her memories of home, all her memories of her parents.
‘No.’
She was saved from further questioning by the return of Priscilla and Theodosia, who had run ahead and were now returning, battling against the wind that whipped at their skirts.
‘I want to show you the folly, Miss Salinger,’ Theodosia said, taking her hand. Selina was glad of the distraction, aware of Lord Westcroft’s curious eyes probing hers. She’d never told anyone of her disgrace, of the circumstances surrounding her banishment from the family home, and she wasn’t going to start now, no matter how much she wished to scream and curse her brother.
‘You can climb to the top if you’re very, very careful,’ Theodosia said as she pulled Selina along by the hand. ‘And then you can see all the way to the sea.’
‘Apparently,’ Priscilla added quietly. ‘We’ve never been able to see that far.’
‘Father did,’ Theodosia insisted.
‘So he said.’
‘He wouldn’t lie.’
‘I used to come up here when I was a boy,’ Lord Westcroft said, interrupting the quiet squabbling. ‘And on a very clear day you can see the cliffs and the sea beyond.’
In front of them, at the top of a small hill, rose a tower that looked like something out of a fairy tale. It was made of grey stone with windows dotted at intervals up the walls. A wooden door stood closed at the bottom and at the very top there were crenulations surrounding what she assumed must be a small viewing platform.