“I do, Kitty, believe me I do! That does not mean, however, that she is suitable to act as a governess to you young rapscallions. You’d have her for breakfast in a minute, and I’d be obliged, as usual, to leave off my pressing business in London to hotfoot it home instead!”
“She is different!”
“So I infer. Different, however, does not always equate to suitable. The discussion is closed.”
Miss Derringer’s ears burned. It was not her habit to listen in on other people’s conversations, but if they would indulge in such matters in the public breakfast room to which she had just been politely directed, there was not much she could do about it.
How dare the man! Not suitable indeed! Why, he knew nothing about her... . She pressed slender, suitably gloved fingers to hot temples. No, he knew more about her than she did herself ... more about stirring secret hidden warmths in strange, deliciously wicked places... . She had never even thought that way before.
Miss Derringer straightened her back and allowed rage to hide the sinful direction of her erring, normally impeccably ordered thoughts.
Not suitable ... not suitable... .! She briskly tapped on the door, then glared at the earl before smiling calmly at his siblings and taking a seat. Anne did not wait for an invitation. She may have been about to lower herself into service, but she had not done that yet! To his high-and-mighty lordship, she would remain, always, a lady born and bred.
“Miss Derringer, tell Robert at once that you will stay!”
“Kitty, I do not believe I have been invited. Tom, if you are going to spill your chocolate, do have the goodness to at least aim for the gown, rather than the ice white gloves. Muslin is deplorable to wash.”
Tom grinned unrepentantly. “May I practice on you?”
“Vile child, no you may not!”
Was that a faint flicker of amusement she caught flashing across the earl’s taciturn features? Anne smiled inwardly. How strange that she could be so angry and breathless at one and the same time.
“Miss Derringer, I trust you slept well? Your ankle, I hope, is better for the rest?”
Polite words, but Anne could feel a current between them that had little to do with commonplaces.
“Excellent, my lord. I have been so cosseted it is small wonder I am feeling better. Do not trouble yourself over a doctor, for with these stout boots I am cured.”
Perhaps she should not have drawn attention to her footwear, for the earl would surely, then, not have had the audacity to set his glass at her and peer under the table at her kerseymere skirts and the abhorrent boots that she had praised, only yesterday, for their serviceability.
“Deplorable!”
“Beg pardon?” Anne’s cheeks flamed, for she had been thinking the same herself.
“Perfectly shocking how stout boots can make the most delectable of ankles dowdy. Miss Derringer, remind me, I beg, to procure you some new footwear. I fear I have slashed your kidskins beyond all repair and shall therefore nobly suffer the consequences!”
Did he mean to insult? Anne regarded him steadily. His mind was unreadable but for the faint twist of a smile upon shockingly inviting lips.
“My lord, the boots serve my purposes admirably. I hope you are not so depraved as to imagine I will accept trifles from you?”
“Miss Derringer, after yesterday, believe me, I will not make that mistake twice.”
So! He regarded his kiss as a trifle. Anne would have hit him had he not been leaning negligently out of reach at the far side of the polished beechwood table. Perhaps he read her mind, for in that split second he grinned and caught her furious glare. Two pairs of eyes gazed at their elders curiously.
“What trifle did you give her, Robert?” Tom, sublimely innocent of the charged atmosphere, allowed his interest to be voiced. Kitty, a little more worldly wise, kicked him under the table. Anne would have chuckled had she not felt so suddenly, inexplicably, crestfallen.
“Nothing of any account, Tom. Nothing Miss Derringer could not procure more of if she only made the slightest push.”
“But I shall not, shall I, my lord? I think we understand each other perfectly. And now, my dears, I think it is time for me to take my leave. It is a long route to Staines, I believe.”
“Staines? What has Staines got to do with anything? And I thought I told you—”
“Exactly the problem, my lord! If you had but listened, rather than told ...”
Kitty giggled. “I said she was a great good gun, Robert!”
“Impertinent widgeon! I have a mind to send you to the nursery for the day. Be quiet! Better yet, take Tom and scarper. There must be something for the pair of you to do whilst I decide what is to be done.”
Kitty knew that tone. She winked saucily at Miss Derringer, made a great show of gathering her muff and pulling Tom down from his seat, then left before her great bullying half brother could change his mind.
“Miss Derringer ...”
“Lord Carmichael ...”
“Miss Derringer, you must realize my position. It is impossible that I offer you the post of governess!”
“I never asked for it, my lord.”
“Indeed, I know that, but it seems my siblings have taken the most extraordinary liking to your company.”
“Extraordinary seems inaptly put, my lord! True, many have taken me in strong dislike, but I don’t think it can justly be termed extraordinary that the children have taken a liking to my company.”
The earl’s lips twitched. “Miss Derringer, you deliberately misunderstand me.”
“And you me, my lord! Besides, whilst I have no inclination whatsoever to foist myself on your household, I might say that I have more to recommend myself than a pretty face and pleasing manners!”
“That is a relief, for I would hardly call your face pretty, and your manners, my dear, are abominable.”
The words were spoken so silkily that for a split second, Anne hardly grasped the sense. When she did, she gasped, her expressive eyes flashing such outrage that the earl was moved to chuckle. They stood and faced each other.
“Careful, my dear, you might just be tempted to slap me again.”
“It is no more than you deserve.”
“Is it? I merely point out to you that your manners are ... unusual. You do not deal in commonplaces.”
“I hold that as a compliment, my lord. I abhor hypocrisy.”
“Then; we are in agreement. Smile, my pretty.”
“You have just pointed out that I am not pretty.”
“And that rankles? Allow me to be more precise. Pretty is for flowers, for trinkets, for watercolour sketches. It is not for your face.”
“What is, then?” Anne felt her heart beat faster, for Lord Carmichael had somehow breached the distance between them, and she could not, for the life of her, find it in herself to take the necessary steps backward. Again, the scent of apple blossom and soap, the golden tendrils that brushed his shoulder and now her gown... .
“Beautiful. Extraordinary. Magnificent. Raven hair and raven heart. Strong words for a strong, strong woman.”
Anne felt she could not breathe. When he reached over to pull out her hairpins, she made no demur save a tiny, inarticulate fluttering of the hands. It was enough.
“Miss Derringer ... Anne. It seems I do you a great disservice. I am never usually so uncontrolled in my passions. I gave you my word and that is what I shall stand by.”
The tiny disappointment lasted only a moment. Anne was glad that her breathing seemed restored, and the cool calm of reason descended, once more, upon her eminently sensible person.
“How did you know I was Anne?”
“Beg pardon?” The earl, for once, was discomposed.
“Anne. Anne. You called me Anne, my lord.”
“How very impertinent of me! I glimpsed it on your bandbox. Miss Anne Derringer. Very neatly printed, too.”
“You tease me!”
“I only tease my friends.”
What d
id that mean? Anne wished he did not look at her with such unsettling directness. She decided to change the subject.
“By the by, my lord, with respect to my qualifications. . .”
“Shall I respect them?”
Why did he twist everything she said? The man was so provoking!
“Indeed you should, for I am familiar with the classics, three languages, mathematics, and the terrestrial globe, of course.”
“Of course.” Why was there a decided hint of laughter to his voice? Anne felt an answering smile curl at the tips of her lips. She quelled it crushingly.
“I am accounted a master at the celestial globe.” How boastful she was! She, who took such care to conceal her learning for fear of being labeled a bluestocking. How very lowering!
“Indeed? I have some interest in celestial beings myself.” He was looking at her that way again, so she felt she must either melt, throw herself wantonly into his arms or concentrate fiercely on the substance, not meaning, of their conversation. She chose the latter.
“Celestial beings? I would not have thought you would have much time, in London, to foster such an interest.”
“Alas, no! I do, however, possess a two-inch telescope of Newtonian design. I must fetch it out some time, for I fear, since Lucinda’s death, I have neglected my stargazing to a reproachable degree.”
“You really are interested?”
“My dear Miss Derringer, why would I lie upon such a substantive issue? If you doubt me, you may speak with an acquaintance of mine, one Sir William Herschel ...”
“The king’s astronomer!”
He looked at her sharply. “How do you know that?”
“My particular interest is comets. Sir William is the definitive guide on the topic.”
Almost for the first time, the eighth Earl Edgemere looked at Anne of the raven hair with respect as well as admiration and the usual attraction.
“I will show you my observation notebook sometime.”
Miss Derringer could hardly bear the pain. She bit her lip and half turned away. “I would have loved that, my lord.”
Her voice was so low he only just caught it.
“You mean, I hope, that you will love it.”
Anne shook her head. “Do not tempt me, I beg! There is no place for me in this household. I came on it by chance and I shall leave it resolutely. I infer you believe me to be a travelling companion for Mistress Kitty. An unsuitable one—”
“Bother that! That was my idle, arrogant tongue!”
Anne smiled, finally. How could she not?
The earl drew in his breath sharply. He had never seen a face illuminate quite as Anne’s did. The moment, however, was elusive, far too fleeting for his comfort.
“True, my lord, but even idle tongues can speak the truth. I am unsuitable, not by virtue of my age, as you think, nor by my behaviour, which I admit is rather more erratic than I am prone to, but by simple virtue of the fact that I am an impostor in your home.”
Whatever Lord Robert Carmichael had expected, it was not this.
“Good God, woman, what kind of melodrama is this? Imposter, indeed! You are, I understand, Miss Anne Derringer?”
“None other, my lord. I am not, however, sent by Lady Markham nor had I so much as heard of Miss Kitty Carmichael and her oh so intriguing set of brothers before yesterday morning at the earliest.”
Robert’s long, wide brows snapped together in surprise.
“No?”
“No!”
“Then, what the devil ...?”
The inelegant question was never framed. Before he could demand a more satisfactory explanation, his eyes were alighting upon a thin stick of a woman, of indeterminate years but supremely proper appearance. She wore, upon her ageing head, a turban of fur trimmed with two elegant feathers of matching hue. Brown, to an undiscerning viewer, but to high sticklers like Lady Castle-reigh, the tone would better have been described as “tawny” or “dusky gold.”
My lord, however, was not interested in the minutiae of such definitions. With a sweeping stare he regarded the straight back, the ebony cane and the high-necked gown with a polite but gentlemanly disfavour.
“Augustus?”
The butler coughed. “May I present to you, my lord, Miss Elizabeth Danvers? I understand you have been expecting her.”
His lordship was just about to inquire whether Augustus had been indulging in a little too much of his port wine when light dawned. Elizabeth Danvers ... the name rang a bell. He searched his elusive memory, all the time feeling the burning stare of Miss Anne Derringer upon his elegant person.
Hell and damnation! It was Miss Danvers who was to be Kitty’s travelling companion! Lady Markham had mentioned her quite specifically by name. Then who, in tarnation, was ...
Anne smiled. “I believe you now understand my circumstance, your lordship.”
“Understand? That is a strange term to describe my confusion! I shall let that pass, however and—”
“Your lordship!”
The tone was ringing. The eighth earl guiltily felt caught in the schoolroom. It was only a mad moment, however, before he retrieved his dignity and turned to the lady in question.
“Miss Danvers, welcome to Carmichael Crescent.”
“Thank you, your lordship, and it looks as if it is not a moment too soon, either!”
“Beg pardon?”
“That gown is far too low cut for a young lady, miss! It reveals invitingly, and that is one thing I cannot hold with. I am sure his lordship will agree that such an unbecoming expanse of flesh is improper and unsuitable. I shall see, at once, to the alteration of your gowns.”
Anne was stunned, startled, then blatantly amused at the impertinence.
“I collect you believe me to be Miss Kitty Carmichael?”
The woman glared at her crushingly. “Naturally, though artifice makes you appear a trifle older. We shall deal with that, too, young lady!”
Robert’s brows furrowed. Was this why his siblings went through governesses like he went through glasses of Madeira? If this old crab was a sample... .
“I think not.”
The woman stared at him in incomprehension. “My lord, I must ask you to be silent on this matter. As a man, you cannot know—”
“As a man, I believe I am best qualified to know, Miss Danvers!”
“Oh!” The wicked implication caused Miss Anne Derringer to smother a most unladylike chuckle of amused comprehension. This mirth was not, however, reflected on the leaner Miss Danver’s countenance. She poked at the earl with her stick and demanded to know if he had dared sully her ears with gross innuendo.
When he solemnly nodded an affirmative, she gasped in outraged virtue and took a seat upon the instant.
“My lord, I have been sorely deceived!”
“I, too, Miss Danvers!” His eyes danced across the room and caught Anne’s in a fleeting embrace of the spirit.
“I have references from no less than Lady Markham, Miss Rochester-Smythe and at least a handful of minor peeresses!”
“I am relieved, for you shall then have no difficulty in procuring employment elsewhere!”
“I have been hired to escort Miss Carmichael, here, to Miss Parson’s Academy for young ladies and that I shall do!”
“Miss Danvers, whilst you shall most certainly have your fee for your obvious inconvenience, I have to advise you that Miss Kitty Carmichael is going nowhere, least of all to Miss Parson’s Academy!”
“Lady Markham—”
“A pox on Lady Markham! Miss Kitty is not travelling anywhere and that is my final word on it!” His lordship crossed over to the mantelpiece and extracted a fine cigar from the silver box marked with his crest and emblazoned, in crimson, with his initials.
“Profanity, my lord!”
“I believe so, Miss Danvers. Now, at the risk of further offense, I must beg you to withdraw to the blue salon, where I assure you your ears shall not be further smirched by my unruly tongue.” His lor
dship smiled so charmingly that the prim Miss Danvers felt slightly mollified at this obvious concession to her gentility. She was moved, however, to question the earl further, something he considered a sad error.
“Miss Danvers, cease worrying at me like a ... like a ...”
“Beaver?”
His lordship looked up and grinned. “Thank you, Miss Derringer! How eminently helpful of you. Miss Danvers, desist from worrying at me like a beaver. Miss Carmichael has no need of your services, for she and her brother are to be tutored at home.”
“By you?” Miss Danver’s genteel voice dripped sarcasm.
The earl’s voice was gentle, but there was no denying the steel behind the tone.
“Have the goodness, ma’am, to credit me with a modicum of common sense. By the veriest good fortune, I have managed to procure for myself one of the finest governesses in all of London. May I present to you Miss Anne Derringer, of ...”
“Woodham Place.” Anne supplied the information automatically. The earl did not blink or so much as glance in her direction.
“Woodham Place.”
“Well!” Miss Danvers eyed her rival in a new light. “Well! And do you teach the finer arts?”
“Naturally, ma’am, I am passing proficient in watercolours, dancing ...”
“Are you indeed?” The eighth Earl Edgemere turned once more to address her. He smiled lazily, but his sleepy lids did not fool Anne for a second. Her heart began to stammer in that strange, exhilarating manner.
“But, of course, your lordship ...”
“Familiarity, my lord, not excellence!”
“Very well, then, familiarity. I do, however, require excellence in the celestial globe,” his lordship stated.
“But naturally.” The undercurrent between the pair was now palpable. Miss Danvers, regarding both parties with rising distaste, announced that she had most certainly been sadly deceived, for a household that prized such flimflammery nonsense above basic accomplishments was not at all what she had expected in one distinguished enough to house a peer of the realm.
The said peer came perilously close to a rather wicked comment that upon reflection was best left unsaid. When Augustus arrived to usher the lady to a less objectionable accommodation, Lord Carmichael merely bowed with studied elegance, carelessly announced that Miss Danvers might make free with both his luncheon and the comfort of his smart, cherry red barouche, placed his hands upon his lips to silence any further admonitions and closed the door decidedly in her querulous face.
Seeking Celeste Page 4