Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage 05]

by The Governess Wears Scarlet

  “Are you all right?” Lord Steele asked.

  “Yes, fine. Just a piece of dust blew in my eye.”

  “Here, let me have a look.”

  He set his fingers gently beneath her chin and tilted her face up at him.

  The breath seized in her chest. His handsome face was so close that through her rapidly blinking eyes she could almost see the shadow of fuzz of his whiskers.

  His breath warmed her cheek, and she felt that astonishing charge that he exuded, sending a thrill racing up her spine and raising delicious bumps all over her skin. She forced herself to breathe and was overwhelmed by the gingery spice scent he wore.

  “I don’t see it,” he murmured, his gaze traveling from her eyes to her mouth and lingering there.

  Her lips parted as her breath suddenly became heavy and her heart hammered.

  “I think it’s gone,” he declared suddenly, and removed himself as if singed by her touch.

  “Thank you,” she sputtered. Quickly she looked down, smoothing her skirts and collecting herself. She had to stop reacting to her employer this way. For the thousandth time, she cursed the masked man. Never in all her life had she had such difficulty containing her passions; not even Phineas could arouse her senses so.

  They walked as uncomfortable silence stretched long.

  Staring off into the trees, Lord Steele waved a hand. “You do understand that my household has certain rules about fraternization…”

  Oh my heavens! Lord Steele had noticed her reaction to him!

  I can’t help it! You’re wretchedly gorgeous and I’m simply a flesh-and-blood woman!

  But instead of voicing her defenses, she bit her tongue and her cheeks burned with mortification. How could she tell him that she was not interested in bedding her employer? No matter how damningly handsome he was.

  She decided to jump in head first. “I’m the first to admit I’ve made some mistakes.” She stared off at the white-blossomed pear tree, unable to meet his eyes. “I know that your father-in-law mentioned what happened with the Byrnwycks…I want you to know that I will not make that mistake again.”

  Bloody hell! Steele thought. She suspects I’m not indifferent to her appeal! I shouldn’t have gotten so close, I shouldn’t have touched her. But it was innocent enough! She couldn’t read my thoughts—if she had she would have run screaming.

  He shook his head, disgusted with himself. I’ve never been so affected by my passions. It must be that blasted widow. If I ever get my hands on her again…

  But the very idea had the opposite effect of settling his wayward lust.

  Miss West pushed a golden tendril of hair deeper into her bonnet, as if aware that it was lovely to behold and not wishing it to be so. “I know you did not ask about what happened with the Byrnwycks, and I appreciate it. But I want you to know that I realize now what wretchedly poor judgment I had…and I would never under any circumstances do the same today.”

  Now he felt really awful; she was blaming herself for the whole Byrnwyck affair when he knew full well that it wasn’t her fault. Miss West might be lovely to behold and have the kind of heavenly figure that made men long for transparent gowns. But she was no seductress. She didn’t have a designing bone in her well-shaped body.

  I have to convince her that she’ll not be subject to any attentions in my regard. How can I reassure her?

  Steele pursed his lips. “I am a principled man, Miss West.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply—”

  He held up his hand. “If I may finish?”

  She closed her mouth.

  “I want you to know that I see the people in my household as under my protection. I believe that certain lines cannot be crossed.”

  A look of relief washed over her features, as if she’d just been saved from a horrible fate. “I agree!”

  “I think that you and I started off on the wrong foot.”

  Her cheeks tinged pink. “My fault entirely.”

  “As I recall, Carlton had something to do with it.”

  She shrugged sheepishly.

  He continued, “But now you and I seem on surer footing.”

  She nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “I would say that matters are well settled as far as you and I are concerned.”

  “I agree.”

  “Then let us be sure to keep things exactly as they are.”

  The relief in her voice was unmistakable as she breathed, “Wonderful.”

  “Very well then, let us consider this topic settled.”

  She nodded. “I do.”

  The “marriage vow” words didn’t sound as awful on her lips as he might have imagined they would, and he wondered if she’d ever say them standing before a vicar. He adjusted his coat, as if something itched between his shoulder blades. Mr. Littlethom didn’t deserve her, no matter how handsome he was. Steele had to admit that the man was too attractive for anyone not to notice, but he wasn’t smart enough for Miss West. She was bright and articulate, and Mr. Littlethom came across as less than her match.

  And Steele certainly didn’t want to find a governess just to have her go off and get married.

  No, Miss West couldn’t get married. It just wouldn’t do. The very thought was unacceptable.

  He made a mental note never to consider it again.

  Chapter 25

  “Look! There it is!” Felix shouted. “There it is!”

  Felix leaned his head out of the carriage window, and Abigail bit back the reprimand on the edge of her tongue. He could hardly fall out of the latched door to the coach.

  Partly Abigail hated the way she always thought of the bad things that might occur. But partly she was glad that she was so vigilant, knowing that terrible things did indeed happen, and she should do all she could to help her innocent charges avoid them.

  Seth’s young face was filled with delight, his nose and cheeks having blossomed freckles from his play in the sun. He bounced up and down on the seat. “I want ices! Lemon or muscadine! I want ices! I want ices!”

  Felix pulled his head back into the coach and sat beside his bouncing brother. He was trying to be more contained, but the lad was grinning from ear to ear. “I hear that pistachio is the grandiest flavor.”

  “Grandiest?” Abigail smiled, their excitement contagious. She was delighted that Lord Steele had allowed her to join in the fun, knowing many governesses who’d never have the chance. “I think you mean grandest.”

  Lord Steele’s chiseled features were filled with amusement, as if unable to resist the delight reflecting onto him from his nephews. “Grandiest does have a certain ring to it. Quite a superlative.”

  “Pistachio?” Seth’s face twisted in consternation. “Now I can’t decide whether to get pistachio or lemon or muscadine…I heard my friends talking about the best flavors but don’t know which to choose!”

  Lord Steele’s teeth flashed white with a devilish smile. “I say we try them all!”

  Felix’s eyes went wide. “All?”

  Steele struck his cane down on the carriage floor. “Why the blazes not? Then we can choose which one we like best, so the next time we return we can know what to order.”

  “Next time?” Seth squealed, bouncing around so energetically, he crashed into his older brother, who for once didn’t seem to be bothered in the least.

  Felix looked up at Lord Steele, his eyes filled with wonder, as if Steele were a conquering hero. “You really meant it? We can come again?”

  “Why not?” Steele’s broad shoulders lifted into a shrug.

  “Hurrah!” Seth cried, jumping so high his head hit the ceiling of the carriage. “Ouch!”

  “Are you all right?” Abigail asked, leaning forward.

  Rubbing his head, Seth beamed. “Right as rain!”

  “Or ices!” Felix added. “Right as ices!”

  “Right as ices!” Seth echoed. “Right as ices!”

  Abigail smiled, looking out the window, relishing their joy, and soaking in the elegant
Mayfair neighborhood.

  “You don’t effuse much, do you?” Steele asked.

  Abigail blinked.

  Scratching the hard line of his jaw, he offered, “You’re allowed your share of fun, too.”

  Abigail scrunched her face, teasing, “I don’t recall reading that in my position posting.”

  “I’ll be sure to write that in.” Steele smiled, warming her deep inside her middle.

  She smiled shyly back, containing her response. She didn’t want her employer to think her too caught up, and she had to be careful after their recent conversation. She never wanted to give him the impression that she would presume to invoke his attentions.

  And he was correct; things were right just as they were. He was being so amiable and even going so far as to allow her to join them on the excursion to Gunter’s. He was also being so kind to the boys at a time when they needed his attentions.

  They had no one else, and Abigail believed deep in her heart that if Lord Steele allowed himself, he would be a wonderful father to Seth and Felix. The thought warmed her and gave her new hope for the lads’ recovery from their recent loss. They would never have their parents back, but given time and love and a family to call their own, they would grow into the finest of men.

  Abigail only prayed that Lord Steele chose a wife wisely, selecting a lady who would embrace Seth and Felix as her own and give them the love they deserved.

  As the carriage pulled onto the east side of the square, Abigail could make out the sign bearing a pineapple, which was the emblem used by Gunter’s Tea Shop at Nos. 7–8 Berkeley Square. Delightful anticipation made her heart race, and a smile teased her lips. She felt as if she were nine years old again, when the happiest times were concentrated into little bursts of joyful moments, like blowing bubbles in the wind or running through tall grasses or skipping rocks on a lake.

  This felt like one of those moments, and it brought tears to her eyes. Bittersweet joy at the memories, grief over innocence lost, and joy for Seth and Felix that those times were still possible for them.

  “Are you sad?” Lord Steele leaned forward, concern in his dark gaze.

  “Nay.” She shook her head and wiped the corner of her eye. “I’m just so very glad that you came to the park today.” Meeting his eyes, she smiled, and it was so heartfelt that she sighed.

  His face relaxed and his lips lifted. “I am, too.”

  “Look! There it is!” Felix cried.

  Seth pressed his nose against the glass of the window. “Where? Where?”

  Fashionable coaches were lined up on the avenue. Waiters ran back and forth taking orders and carrying sweets. Small parties of gentlemen leaned against the nearby railings enjoying the sun and the establishment’s offerings. Other waiters scampered back and forth across the avenue, serving the people clustered under the maple trees in the square’s lush garden.

  Ten minutes later, Lord Steele’s party sat on a bench under one of those very maple trees, waiting for Gunter’s ices and sorbets while the two burly footmen perched against a tree nearly. The wooden bench was fairly full, with the boys in the middle and Abigail and Lord Steele acting as bookends.

  Excited anticipation hung heavily in the air as a spirited breeze carried the scent of butterscotch to tease their senses.

  “My tummy’s rumbling,” Seth complained, rubbing his middle.

  “They must be cooking candies,” Abigail surmised. “And I confess the scent alone makes me feel as if I haven’t eaten in a week.”

  Felix looked up at her, clearly trying to distract himself with a new topic. “Have you ever gone a week without food?”

  Seth clutched his belly. “A week without food! That sounds dreadful!”

  Ignoring the memories of the terrible times she and her brother had shared, Abigail mussed Seth’s hair. “I suppose that depends on who’s cooking.”

  Lord Steele watched her with a keen gaze, and she could swear that he’d noticed the way she’d not given an answer.

  Abigail looked away, noting that he must be a gifted prosecutor. She hoped to one day watch him at work, but never as the one sitting in the witness chair.

  She rubbed her arm, thinking about her fugitive brother. She wondered if Lord Steele might be able to help her in some way. But he was sworn to uphold the law and worked on behalf of the Crown. And her brother might very well be engaged in illegal activities. Moreover, why should he stick his neck out for her? No, the idea was too tenuous to consider, so she pushed it away.

  Felix rubbed his hands together while Seth licked his lips again and again until a line of spit encircled his mouth. They all watched the other visitors in the park, eagerly eyeing the ices already served.

  “Oooh, I hope that’s one of my flavors,” Felix muttered, eyeing a green-colored scoop of ice being eaten by a raven-haired girl. “It’s gotta be.”

  A wiry, blond-haired waiter carrying a silver salver brought the ices, each person’s serving in a small clear glass. A hush descended over the group as they were being served. Once each spoon was handed out, they all dug in, utensils clattering against the glasses.

  After sampling all three of his flavors, Felix turned to Lord Steele. “Pistachio is my favorite. What’s yours?”

  “Burnt filbert.”

  Seth shoved a spoon full of cream-colored ice cream into his mouth. “Bewwer than royal ice cweam?”

  Abigail knew she should chide the lad for speaking with food in his mouth, but she was too busy licking the last drop of chocolate off the back of her spoon to care.

  Lord Steele held up his finger. “Wait, I must try another bite to be sure.” Abigail tried not to watch as his spoon slipped between his smooth lips, but she was mesmerized by the look of pure rapture on his handsome features. He sighed and closed his eyes.

  “Well, which one?” Felix demanded.

  Steele opened his eyes and nodded. “Definitely burnt filbert. I like the nutty flavor.”

  She pulled her gaze from her employer, wondering why instead of chilled she felt positively heated. Quickly she took another helping of chocolate, flipping the spoon so that the smooth, creamy coldness was pressed flat against her tongue.

  Pure heaven.

  Her face relaxed, her eyes grew heavy, and she wondered at the last time she’d tasted anything this good. Probably never.

  “An’ wha’ abou’ you, Miss West?” Seth asked with a long line of cream running down the side of his chin.

  She sighed. “Dark chocolate mixed with burnt filbert.”

  Lord Steele raised a brow. “Oh, you get to pick two favorites? I didn’t know that was allowed.”

  “It’s two ice creams making one flavor,” she replied cheekily.

  “Are you sure you’re not the attorney in this party?” Steele asked.

  “Most assuredly,” said she.

  For all their enjoyment of the ices, the lads were done in short order, dropping their spoons with a clatter into the glasses.

  Felix looked longingly at the other children sprinting around the clusters of trees. “Can we…?”

  Lord Steele motioned to the two footmen, who quickly swallowed the last of their ices, set down the empty glasses, and jumped forward.

  Lord Steele’s gaze was measured. “Never out of sight and always within ten paces.”

  “Yes, Your Lordship!” Foster and Zachariah spoke as one.

  Steele turned to the boys. “The same goes for you; always keep us in sight and never be more than ten paces from one of our party.”

  “Woo-hoo!” Seth and Felix scampered off.

  Sighing with contentment, Abigail leaned back into the wooden bench. For a moment she could pretend that she wasn’t there by her employer’s leave and that she was with the boys out of pure love, not just the threat of starvation.

  Although at the moment she could hardly consider hunger when her belly was pleasantly full with a hearty supplement of delicious cream.

  “I can’t recall a finer day in my memory,” Abigail breathed,
collecting the lads’ leftover glasses and spoons.

  “Oh, I’ll do that, miss.” A blond-haired waiter with sparkling blue eyes and a ready grin jumped to help. The waiter reached for her glass.

  “No, not mine!” She realized that she was speaking loudly and lowered her voice. “I’m not quite finished yet.” There had to be at least two spoonfuls of chocolate left.

  The man nodded knowingly and removed his hand. “Of course.”

  Lord Steele eyed the last bit of his ice cream. “That was pretty blazingly delightful.”

  Abigail smiled. “I’m forced to agree.”

  Lord Steele handed his empty glass to the waiter and exhaled noisily, stretching his long legs before him.

  Abigail suddenly realized that they were virtually alone in the shadow of a maple, as the two footmen had gone off to follow the boys and no other patrons sat nearby. She knew that she should be wary of appearing too informal with her employer, but she felt so sleepily content, she couldn’t summon the wherewithal.

  “It was most kind of you to buy ices for me and Foster and Zachariah,” Abigail commented. “Thank you again—”

  “Please stop thanking me, although I must say it was worth every penny to see you roll your eyes as if you’d died and gone to heaven.”

  Abigail’s cheeks heated. “I swear I think I may have.”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Close enough.”

  Chapter 26

  A companionable silence blanketed Abigail and Lord Steele as they watched the boys scrambling about with their newfound friends. Many families came to enjoy Gunter’s in the square’s maple tree–lined park.

  A storklike matron with graying blond curls and greenish-blue eyes strolled into the glade. She was eating from a clear glass filled with cocoa-colored ices. Her eyes fixed on Lord Steele and narrowed in distaste.

  Lord Steele’s lips tightened as he nodded slightly.

  The matron sniffed, raised her nose in the air, and turned so quickly, the hem of her hunter green promenade dress flounced. The feathers of her extravagant peacock bonnet bounced with each rapid step in the opposite direction.