The Rags-to-Riches Governess--A Cinderella Regency Romance

by Janice Preston

  The first thing Dolph saw when he walked into his house was Nicky with Miss Pike’s parrot on his shoulder.

  ‘Wolf. Wolf. Say Wolf, Horatio. Wolf.’

  ‘What are you up to, Nicky? Where is Miss Pike?’

  Nicky looked at him guiltily. ‘She is upstairs, Papa.’

  ‘And where does she think you are?’

  ‘Putting Horatio’s cage in her chamber.’

  ‘And is Horatio meant to be inside his cage?’

  Nicky pouted. ‘He has been inside his cage for days, Papa. He needed to fly.’ He gazed up at Dolph, all innocence. ‘He needed to blow the cobwebs away.’

  Dolph bit back his grin at having his own words recited back to him. ‘Go now and do as Miss Pike bid you,’ he said, sternly. ‘And then ask her how else you may help her.’

  ‘Yes, Papa.’ Nicky headed for the staircase.

  Horatio suddenly stirred and stretched out his wings. ‘Wolf!’ he screeched. ‘Wolf!’

  The click of claws on the tiled floor sounded as Wolf emerged from the parlour and trotted along the hall, ears pricked.

  ‘Wolf! Wolf!’ Horatio took flight and dived at Wolf—aiming at his rump, too wise to venture too close to the dog’s teeth. Wolf twisted, snapping ineffectually at empty air.

  Dolph rubbed his hand around the back of his neck. He needed peace and quiet to think through what he’d learned about Leah. But first...

  ‘Wolf. In.’ He pointed at the parlour door. The dog obeyed, and Dolph shut the door. ‘Come along, Nicky. Let us go and find Miss Pike. I doubt she will be happy you have taught her parrot to call Wolf—it’ll cause chaos.’

  Nicky beamed. ‘It will, won’t it, Papa? Are we going to see Miss Thame while we are here? Stevie said she lives in London now.’

  ‘I do not know, Nicky.’ And he really didn’t know. Not now. He didn’t know what to think. ‘We shall see.’

  * * *

  In the end, with so many unanswered questions whizzing around his head, Dolph abandoned his plans of a quiet evening in, followed by an early night, and ventured out after dinner. A visit to his club elicited the information from the doorman that the foremost event that evening was Lady Todmorden’s rout. Dolph knew Lady Todmorden’s spouse, Sir Horace, from his governmental work, and so he strolled from St James’s to their house in Bruton Street, confident of a welcome despite his lack of an invitation. Here he hoped to find acquaintances who could fill in the gaps in his knowledge as to why Leah appeared to have been bequeathed Tregowan House.

  The Todmordens’ house was ablaze with light and the road hectic with carriages lining up to deposit their occupants at the door. A cacophony of laughter and conversation drifted through the open windows.

  ‘Dolph! Good to see you again.’ Sir Horace Todmorden’s magnificent side whiskers quivered in his enthusiasm. ‘It must be—what—close on a year and a half since we last met? You fellows did a grand job over in Europe, by the way. Thank God Napoleon got his comeuppance at last, eh?’

  Lady Todmorden placed a hand on her husband’s arm and smiled at Dolph. ‘Welcome, Lord Dolphinstone. We were so sorry to hear of your loss last year, were we not, Horace?’

  ‘What? Oh, yes. Quite. Condolences, my dear fellow. I quite forgot in all the kerfuffle over that bounder Bonaparte. Yes...welcome indeed.’ He waved his arm in an expansive gesture. ‘Do go ahead and mingle. I’m sure you’ll find some familiar faces in there.’

  Dolph smiled and then headed for the room indicated by Sir Horace. He paused in the open doorway and accepted a glass of champagne from a passing footman as he scanned the occupants for one of those familiar faces.

  The first person he saw was Leah, holding court. Really, there was no other way to describe the scene before him. Leah, surrounded by half a dozen gentlemen—Veryan included—who were clinging to her every word and vying with one another to earn a smile, or a glance from those brilliant eyes. The sparkle was obvious, even from clear across the room, as the men flirted with her and she...she appeared to relish the attention.

  Fortune hunters. Every one of ’em. They’re only after her money. They don’t know the real Leah as I do.

  Jealousy spiralled up through Dolph at a dizzying speed. His free hand fisted at his side as he forced himself to sip nonchalantly at the champagne and watched, his gaze unwavering.

  Her appearance was nothing short of regal as she stood straight and proud. She was inches taller than most other ladies present, but she did not slouch. And her hair gleamed like a beacon... It was braided up behind—bright, glossy, threaded with pearls—to reveal her elegant neck and ivory shoulders. Gentle curls softened her temples. Her gown—the colour of emeralds—clung to every inch of her willowy frame, draping the long, elegant line of her thighs, and the off-the-shoulder wide neckline exposed an expanse of bare skin unmarred by any decoration save for a green ribbon threaded through her mother’s wedding ring. Strangely, that ring reassured him that this gleaming, polished lady of quality was still the same Leah he knew and loved.

  ‘Dolph! Back in Town so soon?’

  Dolph turned to see his old friend Sir Charles Pidgeon, who claimed a horror of the countryside and lived in London the year round with his wife and family.

  ‘Pidge. Good to see you again.’

  ‘I thought you were determined not to set foot in the place again, and yet here you are, not three months later. Is Hinckley back as well?’

  ‘No, he’s stayed down in Somerset for the time being.’

  ‘And you? Why have you graced us with your presence again, so soon? Ah...’

  Dolph stiffened as his old friend grinned knowingly.

  ‘Could it, perchance, have something to do with the exceedingly popular Miss Thame? She was your governess, as I understand it.’

  Dolph frowned. ‘That is common knowledge?’

  ‘She has made no secret of the fact. Neither has Miss Croome hidden that she was in dire straits before Lady Tregowan bequeathed them her fortune.’

  ‘Miss Croome was also a beneficiary? In the same will? Lady Tregowan’s will?’

  Pidge’s brows shot up. ‘You did not know?’

  ‘I only knew Miss Thame had inherited a house in London and an amount of money that meant she no longer had to work for a living.’

  ‘Ah. Then allow me to fill you in, my dear chap, although there are still gaps in what we know, and rumours galore to fill those gaps, as you might imagine. One of those rumours is that there is another beneficiary, so no one is quite sure whether your Miss Thame has inherited one half or one third of Lady Tregowan’s entire estate. Still, either way, she is a very wealthy lady.’

  ‘All of it?’ Dolph’s brows shot up. ‘Including Falconfield Hall? What about the current Earl? He would surely have expected to inherit something?’

  ‘Ah, poor Tregowan. No one’s seen hide nor hair of him—rumour has it he’s licking his wounds back home in Cornwall. It’s to be hoped the blow doesn’t drive him to despair... Rumour is his finances are shot.’

  Dolph felt a swell of sympathy for poor Tregowan. He didn’t know him well, but he hoped his situation wasn’t as serious as Pidge implied. And Leah...she had inherited a small fortune, and yet she had remained at Dolphin Court, working, when she could have been a lady of leisure. And that, he knew, was out of the goodness of her heart and from her desire to help the children become accustomed once again to their own father.

  ‘The speculation, as you can imagine, is rife,’ Pidge went on. ‘Two young women appear from nowhere and take up residence in Tregowan House under the chaperonage of the late Lady Tregowan’s companion? Society hasn’t had this much excitement this early in the Season for many years. The tattlemongers are busily whispering behind their hands, questioning the link with Lady Tregowan, while the sticklers are already peering down their noses at the ladies in question. I doubt they will be honoured with vo
uchers for Almack’s when it opens, but both are of respectable enough breeding on the face of it, and money does have a way of blinding those in debt to such negative connotations, does it not?’

  Hence Leah being in company with Veryan and Sampford that afternoon. No wonder she had refused his offer when she had such wealth and excitement awaiting her in London.

  ‘Thank you for bringing me up to date, Pidge.’

  Pidge slapped Dolph’s back. ‘You’re welcome, my friend. And if your appearance here has anything to do with Miss Thame, I honestly wish you luck, for she seems a decent woman and she will do far better with you than with any of those chancers cosying up to her. And, if you ask me—which you wouldn’t, but I shall tell you anyway—the lady might give a good impression of lapping up all that attention but, in my opinion, her heart is not in it.’

  With a final smile, Pidge wandered off while Dolph remained in place, searching the room with his eyes, seeking Leah. Someone was in the way, and Dolph shifted until he could see her. As she came into view—still surrounded by admirers—he battled a primeval urge to drag her away from them, to warn them away from her, to warn her they cared only for her money.

  Her head turned, as if she felt the force of his gaze, and their eyes locked. He felt the blow as though it were physical. The air shot from his lungs and he strove to refill them, his legs suddenly weak. He could not move but remained as if frozen in place as he watched Leah’s reaction. And, of course, there was no artifice. Not for her the coy lowering of her lashes. Not for her the turn of the shoulder to punish him. Not for her the revenge of flirting even more outrageously with her admirers simply in order to prove she had no need of him.

  No. She excused herself from her coterie and she crossed the floor to him. Her smile, though, was hesitant. She was unsure, but she would not use that as an excuse to cut him. She had always been forthright and uncomplicated with him, and London had not—yet—changed her. She stopped in front of him and looked up, directly into his eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ‘Good evening, Leah.’ Dolph drank in her ivory skin dotted with those fascinating freckles, and her stunning turquoise eyes. Oh, how he had missed her.

  ‘My lord.’ A frown of disapproval creased her brow. ‘I was unaware of your intention to come to London. You have left the children? After all your promises to put them first?’

  ‘I had some unfinished business to attend to, but I have brought them with me.’

  Her frown cleared at his words. Dolph sent his gaze around the room and saw several pairs of resentful eyes watching them. He crooked his arm. ‘Would you care to stroll? I have news for you.’

  Leah placed her hand on his forearm and Dolph reined in his urge to cover her hand with his. Her scent wreathed through his senses, in part familiar, and yet her own scent was overlaid with an unfamiliar, evocative floral perfume.

  ‘Did Lord Hinckley accompany you to London?’

  ‘No. He found he could not tear himself away from Somerset.’

  ‘Ahhhhh.’ Her lips curved as she sighed with satisfaction. ‘He could not leave Philippa?’

  ‘He offered for Miss Strong on the morning we left, and she accepted him.’

  ‘I am delighted. Philippa deserves to be happy.’

  They strolled on, through an open door at one end of the room and into another, equally crowded but with one distinct advantage, as far as Dolph was concerned. It did not contain Leah’s flock of admirers but instead consisted of an older group of guests, mainly gentlemen recognisable to Dolph as ex-military.

  Dolph glanced sideways as Leah spoke. Her mouth might smile but her eyes were sad. Without volition, his hand now covered hers, and he gently squeezed. If George was right about Leah’s feelings for Dolph, then he had hurt her. Badly. He’d been a blind idiot not to see what had been in front of his nose.

  ‘We all deserve to be happy,’ he murmured.

  Her head bowed, and he noticed her eyes screw shut for an instant, as though she were in pain. ‘Tell me. The children are well?’

  ‘They are.’

  ‘Your business must be exceedingly important for you to come rushing up to London like this.’

  ‘Oh, it is. It is, without doubt, the most important business of my entire life.’

  ‘I see.’

  He knew she would question him no further. He needed to explain himself—to throw himself upon her mercy—but this was neither the time nor the place for such an intimate and emotional discussion. She would know everything soon enough, and he would find out if her feelings for him were strong enough to withstand the truth about Rebecca. Frustration bubbled through him. He longed to find a quiet spot, to take her in his arms and to kiss away her doubts. But only a scoundrel would do that before telling her the full truth and giving her the chance to reject him.

  Wouldn’t he?

  Almost without conscious thought, he scanned the library and spied a single door set into the far wall. It was closed, meaning what lay beyond was not open to guests. Dolph changed the direction of their stroll to ensure they passed close by it even as a voice inside clamoured he was being unfair.

  ‘Who is caring for the boys? Have you found a new governess for them?’

  ‘I have. Miss Pike. She is a cousin of the Reverend Strong. And she has a one-eyed parrot. Horatio.’

  ‘A parrot?’ Her lips quirked, and the memory of their taste, their texture, their eagerness, exploded through him. She soon sobered. ‘Then the boys will have forgotten all about me already, I fear.’

  ‘No. None of us have forgotten you. Nicky asked only today if they may visit you.’

  Leah’s fingers tightened on his arm, and Dolph sent her a sideways look, just in time to see the glint of a tear on her lower lashes, and to catch the hitch in her breath.

  ‘I am sorry. I did not mean to distress you.’

  ‘And I did not intend to allow my emotions to overcome me.’ Leah touched the corner of her eye with one gloved finger. ‘Foolish woman! I do apologise.’

  Dolph reached for his pocket handkerchief and moved to shield her from view, although, judging by the general hubbub, the other guests were too engrossed in their own conversation to take much notice of the two of them. He pushed his handkerchief into Leah’s hand. She snatched it from him and quickly thrust it out of sight in her reticule.

  ‘Not in front of everyone, please,’ she hissed. ‘There are already people who look to find fault with every little thing about us—about me and Aurelia, I mean—without handing them more ammunition with a display of vulgar emotion, as Mrs Butterby would say.’

  Dolph stared down at her. Her eyes still brimmed with tears and, as he watched, one drop spilled over her lashes and slowly tracked down her cheek. She bent her head and another tear plopped to the floor. With a muttered exclamation, he cupped her elbow and steered her to that door, opened it and nudged her through. A glance behind showed nobody taking any notice, so he followed her, shutting the door behind them. The room was dark, but another door, slightly ajar, allowed enough light to reveal they were in a small parlour. Dolph strode to the second door and peered out to see it opened into the back of the entrance hall. He used a tinderbox upon the mantelshelf to light a candle.

  ‘Why do you imagine people are looking to find fault in you?’

  A quiet, bitter-sounding laugh escaped her. ‘We have seen the looks. Heard the comments. It would appear the purity of our breeding is in question. As if we were a couple of racehorses.’

  Dolph bit back a laugh at her disgruntled tone. ‘You should ignore them. It is pure jealousy and spite, for the most part. They are envious of your good fortune.’ His voice deepened as he stepped closer to her. ‘And of your beauty.’

  She stared up at him. ‘Beauty? Now I know you are flannelling me. And I thank you for it, but there is no need to try and make me feel better with false compliments.’


  ‘The compliment was not false. You stand out as a diamond among all the other females here, despite your lack of jewels.’ He stroked one finger down the silk ribbon and paused as he reached the ring. ‘You still wear your mama’s ring, I see.’

  Her hand rose to her chest, and her fingers brushed his as she touched the ring. ‘It is more precious to me than any jewels. It keeps her memory close.’

  His heart ached at the sadness in her voice. She had lost both parents. She had no family. She had been forced to earn her living at what was often a thankless task, and he—the one person who should have protected her against more hardship—had effectively driven her away from where she was happy. Nothing could excuse his behaviour. He hadn’t recognised his love for Leah just as he hadn’t recognised Rebecca’s despair. He truly was a failure, and he was ashamed.

  Dolph placed two fingers beneath Leah’s chin, tilting her face to his. ‘Leah... I—’

  The door behind them opened, and they jumped apart as Miss Croome stalked into the room, glaring at Dolph.

  ‘Leah! Mrs Butterby is hunting high and low for you. You had better come with me before she creates an uproar over your disappearance. It is fortunate I was watching you and saw Lord Dolphinstone spirit you away.’

  ‘Spirit me away? Aurelia... I am in no danger from His Lordship, I assure you.’

  ‘Your reputation is in danger.’ Miss Croome’s blue eyes, flashing like sapphires, scrutinised Dolph from head to toe and back again. ‘Why have you come to London?’

  Leah gasped. ‘Aurelia! Please—’

  Dolph touched Leah’s arm. ‘It is all right, Leah. Miss Croome is entitled to wonder why we are here alone, and to question my motives. I am in London on personal business, Miss Croome.’

  His gaze sought Leah’s as he spoke. A blush stole up her neck to her cheeks, and her fingers sought her mother’s ring. Her throat moved as she swallowed.

  Her eyes clung to his as she said, ‘Aurelia, will you kindly go to Mrs Butterby and reassure her I am found and perfectly safe?’