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

Page 22

by Janice Preston


  That suspicious blue gaze transferred to Leah. ‘Come with me.’

  ‘I will be right behind you. I promise.’

  Miss Croome drew herself up to her full height, meaning the top of her head barely reached Dolph’s shoulder. Her eyes narrowed. ‘If Leah does not appear in three minutes, I shall return, so be warned.’

  She stalked from the room.

  ‘I see I have no need to fear for your safety when you have your own personal bodyguard,’ Dolph said, with a laugh. ‘She is rather protective, is she not? It makes me wonder what you have told her about me.’

  ‘I have told her nothing. She is aware you were my employer, and that is all. I only met Aurelia for the first time at that meeting in Bristol. I do not know her well enough to share confidences...not that there are any confidences to tell, of course. And,’ she added, ‘you are no longer responsible for me, so there is no need for you to fear for my safety or to concern yourself about anything to do with me.’

  ‘Touché.’ Dolph cupped Leah’s shoulders. ‘Leah...listen... I am aware we do not have much time. That personal business...’ He watched her closely. ‘It involves you.’

  ‘Oh.’ Her smile wavered. ‘I appear to be lost for words. Can you enlighten me with more details of this personal business?’

  ‘I cannot. At least, not fully. There are things I must tell you that will take more time than we have available now. May I call upon you tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes. I shall look forward to it.’ Her expression belied her words and the tremor in her voice signalled her doubts.

  He had caused this. And, all at once, he understood Pidge had been right. Her performance as a queen among her entourage had been precisely that. A performance. And his treatment of her had added to her doubts about her own allure.

  Dolph’s hands firmed on her shoulders and he drew her slowly towards him.

  ‘I have missed you more than you could ever know, my sweet Leah.’ He lowered his face as hers tilted towards him. His mouth brushed hers and then settled. Her response was, as ever, heartbreakingly honest—her lips softening beneath his in a slow, sensual kiss that set his pulse racing. Too soon, she pulled away, her hands flat upon his chest.

  ‘I must go.’ Her deep turquoise gaze searched his. ‘You should know—my reasons for refusing your offer have not changed.’

  Forever honest. He gently brushed back a stray lock of her hair at her temple.

  ‘But my reasons for making that offer have changed, dear Leah. However...’ he placed his forefinger against her lips as her mouth opened to speak ‘...there is something I must tell you first. Something you need to understand, before we speak of the future. So we will talk tomorrow.’

  He put his arms around her and pulled her close, just holding her. His eyes closed and he breathed in her floral scent. What would tomorrow bring? Would she understand why he had hesitated to admit—or even recognise—his feelings for her? Would she willingly face the risk of being his wife? And yet, even as those thoughts crossed his mind, he began to realise the benign neglect that had dogged his marriage to Rebecca need not be repeated. His future was in his hands. Unlike then—and whether it was because he was now older and more mature, or whether it was because it was Leah rather than Rebecca, and he loved her with his whole heart—he no longer viewed his decision to give up his government business as a sacrifice. He felt as though he would be content to stay at Dolphin Court with Leah for the remainder of his days. He loved her. Never in his life had he felt that emotion so deeply, so naturally, so passionately.

  With reluctance, he released her.

  ‘Come. Let us go before Miss Croome returns to savage me once again.’

  He took her hand and led her to the door into the entrance hall. A swift peek revealed only servants—a footman on duty by the front door and two maids waiting to assist guests with their coats upon arrival and departure. Dolph urged Leah through the door and followed her out into the hall and then into the room in which he had first seen her. It was still packed with guests.

  Miss Croome pounced the minute they entered. ‘I was about to come looking for you again,’ she hissed. ‘Mrs Butterby has the headache now, no doubt from all the worry you’ve caused.’

  ‘Nonsense!’ said Leah. ‘There is no need to be overly dramatic, Aurelia.’

  Miss Croome’s blue eyes raked Dolph once again. ‘If there was nothing clandestine in your little tête-à-tête, why did His Lordship not introduce himself to your chaperone?’

  ‘Aurelia. Please...’

  Miss Croome’s expression softened, and she took Leah’s hand. ‘I am sorry. I am worried for you, and that has sharpened my tongue, perhaps.’ She bit her lip and looked up at Dolph. ‘I apologise, my lord.’

  ‘You were rightly concerned for your friend,’ he said. ‘And now, Miss Croome, perhaps you will be kind enough to conduct us to your Mrs Butterby, for you are quite right, and I should have made myself known to her at the outset.’

  Leah’s smile warmed his heart. They followed Miss Croome through the throng to a slender, grey-haired lady, whose drawn features did indeed give the impression she was in pain.

  ‘Mrs Butterby,’ said Leah. ‘May I introduce Lord Dolphinstone? My lord, this is Mrs Butterby, who is kindly standing as chaperone for myself and Miss Croome for the duration of our time in London.’

  Mrs Butterby curtsied. ‘I am pleased to meet you, my lord. I do hope you will call upon us while you are in Town.’

  Dolph bowed. ‘Thank you, ma’am. I have already asked Miss Thame if I might call upon her tomorrow.’

  Mrs Butterby’s eyes widened. ‘I shall look forward to your visit, my lord.’

  Leah took the older woman by the arm. ‘Are you quite well, dear ma’am? Aurelia said you are suffering the headache.’

  ‘Oh. Well. Yes, indeed, but it is only very slight.’

  ‘It does not look to me to be only slight. It is unbearably hot and stuffy in here, not to mention the noise. Shall we go home?’

  ‘Well, if you and Aurelia have no objection, I must confess it would be a relief.’

  ‘I have no objection,’ said Miss Croome.

  ‘Nor I,’ said Leah.

  Mrs Butterby scanned the room distractedly. ‘In that case, I shall find Lady Todmorden and say our goodbyes while you girls bespeak our carriage and our cloaks. Lord Dolphinstone, I am sorry we must leave, but I shall look forward to meeting you properly tomorrow.’

  Dolph bowed and watched her walk away. Miss Croome stirred then. ‘I shall order the carriage. I will meet you in the hall, Leah.’ And she, too, walked away.

  Dolph scanned the crowd and became aware of the many pairs of eyes upon him. Mostly male, and somewhat disgruntled.

  ‘Might I escort you to the door?’ Dolph took Leah’s hand and placed it upon his sleeve very deliberately—a non-verbal statement as to his intentions, aimed at every last one of those fortune hunters. ‘Shall I call upon you at eleven? Will that be acceptable?’

  ‘It will.’

  Miss Croome, already wearing her mantle, was waiting in the entrance hall.

  ‘Which is your coat?’

  ‘The green pelisse.’ Leah indicated the garment held by the waiting maid.

  Dolph moved behind her, holding the pelisse as she slipped her arms into the sleeves. As he settled the coat across her shoulders, the tips of his fingers brushed first the satiny skin of her neck and then a silky curl of hair that had escaped its pin. His breath stirred the soft hairs at her nape, and he saw gooseflesh erupt and felt her quiver in response. His own pulse thrummed, and the blood surged to his groin, causing him to grow hard. He wanted her. Ached for her.

  Such a simple action, to assist her with her coat, and yet his reaction stirred so many complex needs and worries and regrets and...guilt. His old friend guilt. Seizing on a sudden impulse, he bent his head and put his lips
to her ear.

  ‘Do not stop believing, my sweet Leah.’

  Her shoulders tensed beneath his hands. Her chaperone chose that moment to bustle into the hall, and Dolph took advantage of the distraction to press a kiss to the side of Leah’s neck.

  ‘All will be well. I promise you.’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ‘So,’ hissed Aurelia, as she and Leah waited to climb into the carriage behind Mrs Butterby, ‘you did not tell me your Dolph is as obsessed with you as you are with him.’

  ‘Is he? Am I?’ Leah raised one eyebrow, affecting nonchalance despite the blush heating her cheeks. ‘That sounds singularly inappropriate given he was my employer.’

  ‘Tosh. You don’t fool me, sister. Or are you in the habit of allowing your employers to make love to you under the cover of assisting you with your pelisse?’

  Another shiver racked Leah as she felt again the brush of Dolph’s fingers over her sensitive nape, and the sweet, petal-soft touch of his lips upon her neck. She had hoped no one had noticed. Trust Aurelia—nothing much escaped those sharp blue eyes of hers.

  ‘Can you trust him, though, Leah? Ask yourself what he is doing here in London.’

  ‘He has come on business. Please, take care,’ Leah whispered urgently. ‘Mrs Butterby will hear you.’

  A footman handed first her and then Aurelia into the carriage, which immediately set off. Leah resisted the urge to look back to see if Dolph was there, somewhere, watching her depart. What did it all mean? The carefully selected words; that kiss; the fire that smouldered in those grey eyes? He’d said there was something she needed to understand before they could discuss the future. She tingled with excitement. She had prayed he might realise he loved her when she was gone, and she now prayed he could convince her of it, for her resolve was as strong as ever. If she must accept a marriage of convenience—and she was by no means certain she would do so—she would rather it was to a man whose heart was at least free to grow to love her. She would not wed a man still in love with his first wife, for that way lay misery and heartache.

  A sharp nudge from Aurelia’s elbow brought Leah back to her surroundings. They were nearing home. Mrs Butterby was uncharacteristically quiet, staring out of the carriage window and nibbling absently at the finger of her glove. As the vehicle slowed, she jerked out of her reverie.

  ‘How is your headache now, ma’am?’ asked Leah.

  ‘Oh. It is a little better, I believe.’ Mrs Butterby massaged her temples as the carriage drew to a stop. ‘The noise at the rout did not help, but I have also been thinking about Beatrice, after our conversation this afternoon. I know I said there is still time, and that is true, but... I honestly did think she would be here by now. I know dear Sarah was very worried when she found out how badly her brother treated her.’

  She accepted Vardy’s hand to help her down the carriage steps and walked into the house ahead of Leah and Aurelia, straight up to the drawing room, where she sat down. ‘We shall discuss what we are to do in the morning when my head is clearer. However, I cannot retire to bed without first asking you about Lord Dolphinstone, Leah.’

  ‘What about him?’ Leah caught Aurelia’s smirk out of the corner of her eye and glared at her.

  ‘May we attach any significance to his calling upon you tomorrow? He is a fine figure of a man and I do know he is well respected in Society. And an earl!’ She sighed. ‘Quite the catch!’

  ‘I do not know,’ she said. ‘I hope so. And yet...’ She shrugged helplessly.

  Aurelia sat beside her. ‘Why do you not tell us the whole, Leah? I was right there was something between you when you worked for His Lordship, was I not?’

  ‘You were. We grew close and we kissed.’ She smiled, ruefully. ‘And I did not mean to, but I fell in love with him, despite knowing he had vowed never to remarry because he still loved his late wife. When I decided I must leave before I fell any deeper for him, he asked me to marry him.’

  ‘He asked you to marry him? And you love him?’ Mrs Butterby shook her head. ‘Why are you here? Why did you not snap his hand off, you foolish girl?’

  Leah sighed. ‘He only proposed to me for the children’s sake, to stop me leaving. I overheard him tell his friend Lord Hinckley that he would do anything to stop me going, and L-Lord Hinckley suggested he marry me. It was not even Dolph’s idea. And he made no attempt to hide that it was a practical solution, as far as he was concerned.’

  ‘The scoundrel!’ Aurelia patted Leah’s arm. ‘But he followed you. That is a good sign, is it not?’

  ‘I hope so. And what he said tonight... I told him my reasons for refusing him have not changed, and he said that his reasons for making that offer have changed.’

  ‘But...that is wonderful.’ Mrs Butterby clasped her hands to her bosom. ‘So-o-o-o romantic.’

  ‘But then he said there is something I need to understand before we can speak of the future. And I have racked my brains, but I cannot think what he means. I so want to believe my dream will come true, but I have been fooled before and now I just feel confused.’

  ‘Well...he had the look of a man who is enamoured,’ said Aurelia, ‘but is he to be trusted? You know him best, Leah.’

  Leah frowned. She so desperately wanted to trust Dolph, but the memory of Peter and Usk loomed large. Could she really trust her own judgement? But...this is Dolph. Has he ever given me reason not to trust him? She felt guilty for even doubting him. She loved him, and surely trust must go hand in hand with love?

  ‘You are right, Aurelia. I do know him. He was honest about the reason for his proposal at Dolphin Court and I trust him to be honest with me tomorrow.’ She prayed she was right. ‘I fear I have allowed conjecture and my emotions to distort my good sense.’ She rose to her feet. ‘I shall see you both in the morning. Goodnight.’

  * * *

  Despite her resolve to stop trying to guess what Dolph was to tell her, and to trust him, Leah still struggled to sleep. The following morning she awoke with a start as Faith bustled into her room.

  ‘Miss Thame! Miss Thame!’

  Leah blurrily focussed her eyes on her maid as she fought the desire to turn over and sink back into oblivion. But the urgency in Faith’s voice roused her curiosity.

  ‘What is it?’ Leah propped herself up on one elbow.

  ‘It’s Miss Fothergill, miss. She has arrived, and...oh, miss, I knew you would want to know, so I hurried up here straight away.’

  Leah frowned. Beatrice? Here? ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Almost nine, miss. Mr Vardy has put her in the morning parlour next to the fire. She’s chilled to the bone, poor thing.’

  Leah jumped out of bed and grabbed her shawl, thrusting her feet into her slippers before hurrying from her bedchamber. ‘Have Mrs Butterby and Miss Croome been told?’

  ‘Bet has gone to tell them, miss.’

  The door to the morning parlour was ajar and, from within, Leah could hear the snap of the fire. She paused outside the door.

  ‘Thank you, Faith. Please ask the kitchen to send up a warm drink and something to eat for Miss Fothergill.’

  ‘Mrs Burnham is already seeing to it, miss.’ Faith bobbed a curtsy and hurried away. Leah bit her lip and pushed the door open, wondering what she might find.

  Beatrice was sitting on the chair nearest the fire, huddled over and seemingly talking to a wicker basket by her feet. Her head snapped up as Leah entered and her fearful expression changed to one of sheer relief. She leapt up and rushed across the room. For one moment, Leah thought Beatrice would hurl herself into her arms, but her half-sister abruptly halted when just a few feet away, her fingers plucking nervously at the skirts of her lilac gown.

  ‘Leah! I cannot tell you how happy I am to see you again.’

  Her attempt at a smile tugged on Leah’s heartstrings. She cared not for societal norms of behaviour. Beatrice was he
r half-sister—her flesh and blood—and Leah’s instinct was to touch...to offer comfort. She smiled warmly, opened her arms and drew Beatrice close in a hug. Her cheek, when Leah kissed it, was cold.

  ‘And I,’ she said, ‘am delighted you have joined us at last. Come, sit by the fire again. You are shivering.’

  She urged Beatrice to sit back down and then tugged another chair alongside so she could keep hold of her sister’s icy hand. The basket rocked and an unearthly yowl sounded from within.

  ‘What on earth is in there, Beatrice?’

  ‘Oh, dear. I hope it is all right. It is Spartacus. My cat. I could not leave him behind.’

  ‘Of course you could not. Is it time to let him out of there, do you think?’

  ‘He is hungry. I—I asked Vardy to bring something for him from the kitchen. Is that all right?’

  ‘Beatrice...my dear...this is your home. Yours and mine and Aurelia’s. If you wish to bring your cat, and to give an order to the butler, you are perfectly entitled to do so.’

  Leah was rewarded with a smile that revealed dimples in both Beatrice’s cheeks. ‘I am sorry. I worry... I—I do not wish to take advantage, or to upset anyone.’

  ‘Trust me. You will not upset any of us. Everyone will just be happy you have arrived, I promise.’

  Another furious and long-drawn-out yowl emerged from the basket as Mrs Burnham, the housekeeper, entered, carrying a tray laden with a pot of chocolate, two cups, a plate of fragrant, gently steaming fresh rolls, and two dishes, one of meat scraps and one of water.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Burnham.’ Leah moved a side table to within Beatrice’s reach. ‘Place it here, if you please.’

  Mrs Burnham poured the chocolate and then placed the two dishes on the floor, at the edge of the carpet square. ‘For the cat,’ she said.

  ‘Thank you.’ Beatrice knelt by the basket and unbuckled the straps. Before she could open the lid, a huge black cat pushed it up and squirmed through the opening. He hissed loudly, ears flat to his head, before streaking across the room and scrambling onto the windowsill where he glared malevolently at the three women. ‘Oh, dear.’

 

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