Dangerous Lord, Innocent Governess

Home > Other > Dangerous Lord, Innocent Governess > Page 19
Dangerous Lord, Innocent Governess Page 19

by Christine Merrill


  ‘And you will always be my little girl.’ He looked up to his other children, and opened his arms wide to encompass them. ‘You are all mine. It does not matter where you go. I am your father, and this is your home. And always will be.’

  And, hesitantly, the other children stepped into his arms as well. And suddenly it was a tangle of arms and legs, and laughter and tears. And Daphne looked around, feeling lost and out of place.

  And Tim looked up, over the heads of all his children, and said, ‘Miss Collins?’, holding his arms even wider.

  And the children laughed, and turned to her as well, calling, ‘Miss Collins?’, and holding out their arms as well.

  She froze for a moment, and then she laughed, and stepped in, joining the family. And she understood what had been lacking in the house, for the warmth and love in the hug seemed to pervade her very soul.

  And Tim’s eyes met hers, and he gave an incredulous little shake of his head. ‘It was an accident,’ he whispered again. ‘A terrible accident. No one’s fault at all.’ And while she could feel the concern for his daughter emanating from him like a warm glow, he seemed a totally different person than the dark, tortured soul she had first met.

  Chapter Seventeen

  After what seemed like a long time he released them, and reached for a handkerchief to wipe his eyes and his brow.

  Edmund looked at him, with sudden shyness, and said, ‘Must we still go to school, then?’

  Tim sighed. ‘We will talk of that later, I think. The revelations of the day have given me much to think on. Perhaps next term…’

  The boy seemed to sag in relief. ‘And Sophie? Mother said—’

  Tim stopped him. ‘I would not put too much weight on anything that happened on those last days. Your mother and I were very angry at one another. What was said then changes nothing. We will not speak of it again.’

  Lily smiled in understanding, and hugged her father all the harder.

  ‘And Miss Collins will stay as well,’ Sophie announced, and gave her father a hug.

  And she could feel the awkwardness, coming from Tim, just as the love and protection had before. ‘I think that is something I must discuss with Miss Collins,’ he said.

  ‘Yes,’ she said softly, in answer. ‘But now, children, you must get ready for lessons.’

  ‘Lessons?’ Tim laughed out loud. ‘No lessons today. No work. We will go for a walk in the woods. And visit the orangery to see how the trees are faring.’

  The children’s faces shone with anticipation. Daphne looked at each in turn. ‘There is a chill in the air. Go to your rooms and change into clothing that is sensible for the weather. And wash the breakfast from your hands and faces. Take care with your nails…’ She let the familiarity of the routine take her, blunting out the question in the back of her mind. What would become of her, now? She had done what she had come to do, and satisfied herself as to the details of Clarissa’s death.

  And she could hardly fault the family, if she had been foolish enough to lose her heart as well. The man standing before her now was nothing like the dark lord who had come to her rooms. That man was gone, and in his place was a respectable father who would never have taken such liberties.

  And it suddenly occurred to her that what her mother had always told her about the value of reputation might be true. She might have been able to hold his desire, but would he respect her, now that he could have any woman he wanted?

  As the children moved off to care for themselves, she heard him behind her. ‘Daphne?’ His voice was soft, the question in the name surprisingly gentle.

  ‘Yes?’ She turned to face him.

  He paused again, unsure of how to continue. And then he said, ‘We have to talk.’

  ‘We are talking now.’

  ‘In private. After the children have gone to bed, about what will happen next between us.’

  She glanced at the children, walking down the hall together. ‘It would be best, if the news is bad, to inform me of it, quickly. To prevent any nonsense and false assumptions on my part.’

  He gave a dry little laugh. ‘How like a governess you sound, all of a sudden. Very prim and proper.’

  ‘Perhaps it is about time for me to do so.’ She frowned, thinking of Sophie’s obvious attachment to her. ‘I never gave thought to them, and what might happen after, even though it was my job. That should have been my first priority.’

  When she looked at him, he was smiling at her, in a way she had never seen before. It was strange and soft and warm, and it made her blush. ‘You honour my family with your concern. And you have given a great gift to us, with what I thought was meddling and snooping and a far from healthy curiosity about Clare. If it were not for your persistence, I would never have known the truth.’

  And another flash of guilt caught her. Her motives had been just as bad as he’d thought, even if the results had been in his favour.

  ‘And I must apologise for my treatment of you, which was coloured by my fears of the truth, and was not as respectful as it should have been.’

  An odd apology. She brushed it away with a wave of her hand.

  ‘And I would like to take the opportunity to start again, and to treat you as you deserve, as one who holds my affection, and that of my children.’

  It sounded almost like he meant to pay court to her, and pretend that nothing had happened between them. And to prevent the awkwardness, she dropped a small curtsy, and said, ‘Thank you, my lord,’ averting her eyes and easily becoming the servant she had never thought to be.

  ‘Oh, bloody hell.’ And, for a moment, the old Tim was back. He seized her by the arms and pulled her lips to his. ‘I meant to start fresh with you, now that I am free. But I cannot manage it, if you mean to change as well.’ He kissed her with such force that she could hardly breathe, his hands twisting in her hair, her crisp gown rumpling under his touch, and she said, ‘Lord Colton, please. The children.’

  ‘Oh, what nonsense. The children will best get used to the way I feel about you. You have given me my life back, and my family as well. I am not going to let you drift away from me, now that everything is finally right.’

  ‘Right?’ Didn’t he understand it was all wrong? For she had done wrong in coming here, even if the results were right.

  He held her hand, and dropped to his knees before her. ‘I love you.’ He gave a great breath, as though a weight had been lifted from his chest, and grinned up at her. And it was happy and relaxed and open. ‘I have loved you for some time. But I was afraid to act. You are too good to tie yourself to a wreck such as I was. A murderer. A man with no future. I wanted better for you than I could ever give. But now?’ He spread his arms wide. ‘Now, it is all changed. I can be happy without guilt. And I can make you happy as well. Or, at least, I would like to try.’ A shadow passed over his face. ‘It will be difficult, of course. There are the children to think of. They have been through hell over this, and it will take time to recover. But you know better than anyone that what happened was an accident. You can help them see that, now that they no longer fear the discovery.’

  That was true, at least.

  ‘They are very fond of you. And now that you know the truth, there is nothing to stand between us.’

  ‘Nothing,’ she said softly, her own motives in coming there, and her real name and family, rising like ghosts from the mist.

  ‘Is that a yes?’ he asked hopefully. And then muttered, ‘Or have I forgotten the proposal? Because I fully intended to ask. And it has been so strange between us. All the wrong way round. Not the normal thing at all. Perhaps you misunderstood.’ He cleared his throat, and said, in a formal tone that was quite spoiled by his grinning, ‘Miss Collins, it would do me a great honour if you would give me your hand in marriage.’

  And once again, there was the little break in her mind, as she recognised her alias. It occurred to her too late that Tim should really be speaking to her father over this. But he did not even know that she had a father, since t
he Duchess believed that Miss Collins had no family. Which meant that there was even more to explain than she thought. And she found that she could not meet his gaze. ‘This is very sudden. I will have to think on it.’

  ‘Of course.’ She could hear his optimism faltering in his voice. ‘It is rather out of the blue. And I meant to do it differently. Better. It is rather unfair of me to present it so.’ He reached out and touched her hand. ‘But I am so…happy. You cannot begin to understand. I am overcome.’ And now there was a break in his voice, which was quickly mastered. ‘Please, take as much time as you need. For we will have a lifetime.’ He released her hand.

  And when she looked into his eyes, she saw such hope, such confidence in her and in their future, that it was even more difficult to blurt the truth.

  ‘I must go and see that the children are ready for your walk.’

  ‘And you?’

  Where was she to go? It was not really her place to walk with the family. And she was not sure if it would ever be. But she knew that the idea of a day with Tim and the children would be intensely painful to her, until she could find the right words to explain things to him. ‘Today, I think it should be just you and your children. You have much to learn about each other, and it is not the place for a servant to intrude.’

  He looked puzzled, as though he could not understand why her joy did not match his own. ‘You know I do not think of you in that way.’

  ‘Still, you need time alone with each other. You can manage without me, for a few hours. I will be here tonight.’ She almost had to convince herself of the fact, for there was some panicked portion of her that wanted to rush to her room, gather her belongings and flee.

  He nodded in regret. ‘I suppose it is true. There is much we have not discussed, as a family. They have lived in needless fear for months, and I was too blind to see it.’ His lips tightened for a moment, in resolution. ‘I must undo any nonsense instilled by Clare, at the end. It has festered too long.’

  She had a fleeting image of her dear cousin, so happy, so pleasant, and yet so vain. And so very thoughtless of those around her. ‘They will be all right now that they know they have your love.’

  He stared at her again. And then he smiled. ‘As do you. And thank you for your confidence in me. Now go, if you must. Or I will hold you here until you say the things I wish to hear.’

  Where she once might have been terrified by the threat, his words came as gentle as a caress. Without thinking, she dropped a curtsy and exited as his governess, not his lover.

  It was no easier, waiting in her room. She had hoped that the things she must say would come to her, once she was alone. But her mind was a whirl of beginnings, and no clear ending. She was sorry, of course. But when he came to her tonight, would an apology be sufficient?

  When at last she heard the footsteps on her stairs, she took a deep breath and sat up, still not ready to meet him.

  It came as a surprise when there was an unfamiliar rap upon the door, rather than his hand upon the knob. ‘Miss Collins?’

  ‘Yes.’ It was Willoby, the footman.

  ‘I have a letter for you. From the master.’

  ‘Slip it under the door, please.’ She pulled the covers up to her chin.

  She suspected he was disappointed that she did not open for him and take the letter herself. The communication was unusual, and he no doubt wanted some scrap of gossip to take below stairs. But instead there was the scratch of paper on wood as the letter appeared, and the somewhat dejected sound of Willoby’s retreating steps.

  When she was sure that he had gone, she got out of bed and hurried across the floor to pick up the paper. The seal was unbroken, thank God. The contents were still private. She snapped the wax and unfolded it, turning to the candle so that she could read the words.

  My darling Daphne,

  While I want nothing more in life than to be at your side this night, I cannot allow myself to come to you, until I am sure of your response to my question. Should it be no, I could not in good conscience share your bed. For what would it say of my motives, or the respect and esteem I have for you, to treat you in so common a way?

  You will probably think it quite foolish that I have found the value of your honour so late in our acquaintance. And perhaps it is. But I find that life was much simpler when I had no hope in the future. In my despair, I took without thinking of the consequences, for they did not matter to me. I was completely sure of myself, in thought and action. Once a man realises he is damned, he has nothing more to fear.

  I am immeasurably happier than I was, just a day ago. But I find that with renewed hope, comes doubt. Did I force you to do something which you now regret? Did you only agree to save your job, or my feelings? Now that the way is clear for us to be together, are your feelings less fixed than mine?

  If I have done anything that makes you unable to answer yes, with your whole heart, then please forgive me for it. If there is a way to mend the problem, if there is anything at all that I can do so that we may begin fresh, tell me it, and I will give it you.

  I want nothing more than that you might know me for the man I truly am, and not the demon that possessed me for so long. My heart, my mind, all I have, I will lay at your feet. You have but to accept it to make me the happiest man in Wales.

  If you will have me, then I shall always be,

  Your Tim.

  She climbed into bed, clutching the paper tight to her breast, the words still echoing in her head. She wanted them to make her happy, and wished to make him happy as well. But how could he not realise that it was her unworthiness, and not his, that created the rift?

  After a sleepless night she decided that the problem was all hers. She wished to soften the blow, when nothing but the whole truth would do. She arose when it was barely light, and pulled her finest day dress from the portmanteau, doing her best to shake the wrinkles from it. It was a beautiful thing of deep blue silk, embroidered all about the hem with tiny flowers. Far too impractical for a servant, which was the reason it had lain unworn for all these weeks.

  She washed carefully and dressed herself. And she could see in the small scrap of mirror that already she looked different. Then, with many pins and much fussing, she managed to do her hair up in a fashion much more in tune with the way she used to wear it, when she’d had a ladies’ maid and time for a proper toilette. With each stroke of the brush she felt a little more her old self, and a little less like Miss Collins the governess.

  And she was prettier, of course. Tim deserved no less than that. But more confident, entitled to speak freely to a man who was within her social set.

  A man very much to her tastes. She smiled. She suspected her father would approve as well. Tim’s intelligence and good sense fairly shone from him, now that he was feeling better. He was rich enough, but not frivolous. He had a fine house, and a title as well. She suspected that, when the time came for the two to meet, his suit would be received with as much relief as joy.

  And that he loved her, and she loved him in return, was almost too much to hope for. She had imagined that marriage would be as Clare had assured her, an impediment to happiness, rather than the beginning of true joy. Which proved again how little Clare knew on the subject. It appeared she was likely to have everything she might want: a man who suited her temper, and a husband to suit her family. And a family of her own, ready made—if she could make it over the difficult hurdle of revealing her true name and her reasons for coming here.

  She would go to him this morning, first thing, full of humility. She would suggest that they take breakfast in the conservatory, just the two of them. The presence of his plants relaxed him, and he would be in the best frame of mind for unfortunate truths. She would tell all, and give what sorry explanations she could manage. And she would swear that there would be no more falsehoods or deceptions from her. He would have nothing but fidelity, honesty and obedience from his wife, if he wished to make the offer in his letter again, in person. She took a deep
breath, and set off down the stairs to find the man she loved.

  When she arrived in the drawing room, she found Tim waiting in attendance upon a guest.

  It was her father.

  Chapter Eighteen

  She stopped in the doorway, listening to the two men, who had not yet noticed her. ‘The London Collinghams,’ Tim said in a stunned voice.

  ‘I was Clarissa’s uncle. Her father’s brother. I assumed your late wife must have mentioned our daughter to you, for they spent much time together, when Clare was in London.’

  ‘Of course.’ His voice was faint, as though he were trying to hide the fact that he had no idea what his wife did when she was away from him. There were so many things he did not wish to hear in detail that innocent family visits must have fallen by the wayside.

  ‘It came as a great surprise that she should be eager to visit here. She did not tell us of her intentions, when she set out. It was only when she did not arrive at her aunt’s that we set about inquiring. And then, of course, we received Daphne’s letter of explanation, delayed due to a blurred address.’

  ‘Oh.’ Tim’s voice was still faint. Perhaps he had begun to understand, or was still merely confused by her father’s strange, disapproving tone.

  She stepped fully into the room, before it became any worse than it was.

  ‘There you are.’ Her father’s voice held the same exasperated tone she had grown used to in London. As though whatever she had done it was faintly disappointing and not at all the course he would have chosen for her.

  He beetled his brows and gave her a half-hearted glare. ‘If you wished to visit a different branch of the family, I would not have objected, for I must say that Wales is remote enough to put you out of scandal’s way. And one cousin is very like the next. But it is most rude of you to have given us no notice. And careless of you to send a letter that could not be read.’ He glared again, as though he meant to say ‘suspiciously careless’. Then he went on with his gentle harangue. ‘Your mother is beside herself with worry. And I have had to track you across Wales like a wounded stag.’

 

‹ Prev