She honked into his handkerchief and stepped toward him, conspirators together. “You are kind, Shrewsbury. I hope she doesn’t ask for my resignation.”
“She has no say here, Miss. His lordship rules his own roost.” He gave her a sad watery smile. On the tray was a letter. “This just arrived in the post for you.”
She took it, hoping it might be news of the appointment she so needed. Undeterred by his presence, she tore it open and read. Yes! Tomorrow at two, she might see him.
He tipped his chin toward the parlor. “They are leaving.”
She opened her mouth to apologize for her snooping.
But he shook his head, his eyes round upon the door. “Hurry!”
She picked up her skirts and fled toward the stairs.
For once, both Roddy and Caro were quiet.
Chapter 10
Belle decided she must have her say with his lordship before dinner. She could not face him for a long hour of polite conversation if she didn’t first clear the air with him. Daphne, prescient as she was, would discern her tension. Besides, she needed to ask for a half-day tomorrow to travel into the City to see this lawyer.
Settling Daphne into her comfortable chair in her own sitting room, Belle told her to practice her mathematics and she would return within a few minutes.
“Might we have tea, Miss Swanson, when you return? I’m very hungry. Pan and Kringle are too.”
“We’ll go down to the kitchen and ask for it, yes.”
Belle made her way toward the library.
“Don’t be afraid, my girl,” Roddy ordered her from the stairwell.
“She’s every right to be,” said Caro. “Our boy Win’s mother can be a harpy.”
Belle paused. These two were getting worse. This was the first time she could hear Caro and Roddy all the way up the stairs. What if I banned you from my mind?
“We don’t simply go mute, dear girl,” Caro replied.
“Don’t argue with her, Caro. We want her to like it here.”
I do!
“Well, then, do go on,” Caro urged her. “See him and make your life better.”
“Ohh!” Belle hoisted her skirts and made for the library. Who could she ask how to rid herself of their badgering? Was there anyone who afterward might not wish to commit her to Bedlam?
“I heard that!” called Caro.
Belle rounded the hallway, inhaled a mighty breath and knocked on the library door.
“Come in!”
She squared her shoulders and presented herself before him.
In the far inglenook, he sat in one of his large chairs in only his waistcoat and shirt. His stock gone, his tanned throat was on view, he was a study of the gentleman at his intimate leisure.
At sight of her, he beamed and shot to his feet. “Forgive me, Belle, I didn’t expect you. I left my frock coat in my bedroom.”
“Please don’t fetch it for me.” I like you as you are. Damn my foolishness, but I do.
He inclined his head and put out a hand toward the matching chair. “Join me. I need good company.”
She stood her ground, resisting the temptation to be more than his governess. “I will be brief, sir.”
“I wish you wouldn’t.” He smiled at her, those large blue eyes of his bright with humor.
How could she debate him? She didn’t want to. He looked too handsome—and much too determined to have his way.
“What of the day? I’ve not seen you or Daphne since breakfast. The rain disturbs me. Have you had tea?”
“Not yet, no, sir. Our day has gone well. Daphne has a talent for math, I’m pleased to say. She likes it, too.”
“Excellent. I’ve not had tea, either. I rang a few minutes ago.”
“I promised Daphne that after I talk with you, I would fetch her and go down to the kitchen to ask Cook for a biscuit and a pot.”
“Well, you and I will have our own tea, then together we’ll get her.”
Belle could not object. She’d sound like a simpleton if she did. He wasn’t afraid to take tea or breakfast or anything else with her. Why should she be concerned about appearances, if the only ones witnessing their ‘appearance’ were household staff?
He went to pull the bell rope and sauntered back toward her.
Dear me. His fair hair was tousled. Rakish. Debonair. Why had no smart young thing caught his eye and his heart?
He stood before her, examining her as intricately as she him. “You have knit your brows, Belle. A shame to mar such a lovely countenance. Tell me what troubles you.”
She clasped her hands together. “I’m afraid I was very rash this morning.”
“Oh?” he asked with a playful smile. “I doubt that.”
“I was. Believe me. I need to apologize.”
“Again? A bad habit you have there.”
“But necessary, sir.”
He smiled like a doting uncle. “Continue.”
“I was in the parlor this morning. It is the room in the house especially warm in this awful weather. I was there alone when your mother and grandmother arrived. I met them. And…when they came in, I had a white knight in my hand again.”
“And your conversation with my mother did not go off agreeably.”
She swallowed hard. “I made a terrible impression and I fear she may wish you to—”
“Terminate your services?”
All the air went out of her. “Yes. I do understand if you now are compelled to do that.”
“But I’m not.” He reached over and squeezed her hand.
“Not?” His fingers were long, warm, insistent. Her flesh tingled with delight that he might not dismiss her.
He resumed his seat. “What kind of man or employer would I be if I allowed someone else who does not know you to ridicule you for having a hand on my knight?”
She had to give him that.
“I see you agree. Marvelous.” Grinning, he crossed one leg over the other. The picture of a man in total relaxation, he looked younger. Come to think of it, he looked younger, more carefree each day. “Now, please join me. I have new ideas for our Daphne.”
Our Daphne. The terms were sweet, endearing. He would keep this child, as he told his mother he would, and see her well brought up, educated and refined.
He extended a hand toward the chair. “Please, Miss Swanson.”
She sank to it.
“I propose we go to a doll shop tomorrow. I’ve heard of one in St. James’s where they have a fine selection. I should like to see her have a dollhouse as well. What do you think of that?”
“That’s generous of you, sir. Rather expensive.”
“Hang the cost. I am a firm believer that if you don’t expose a child to this or that, then you miss an opportunity to engage them.”
Memories of her own childhood, happy and free, consumed her. “How true. I was allowed the run of the house, the library, the cold cellar, my grandfather’s library and I enjoyed myself.”
“He did not restrict you because you were a female. Admirable of him. I should have liked to know him.”
“He was a man who thought of the consequences of his actions.” Except when he grew older…and no longer had total possession of his faculties. “Until he couldn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“When he aged, he became forgetful. The details of the fall of Rome he prided himself on instantly recalling, suddenly escaped him. He loved the sea, liked to holiday in Brighton and watch the waves crashing on the shore. He even forgot that.” She bit her lip.
Win sat forward, compassion in his gaze. “Did he forget you?”
The question, so heartfelt, breached her defenses. “Yes. He thought I was his wife. I look much like her. But all else about me, he could not recall. It’s heart-breaking to see a vital man lose his sense of self, his sense of well-being.”
“I understand. My father was much like that as he aged. For more than a decade, he could not always recognize us. Made rash decisions.”
&n
bsp; “It made my grandfather illogical too. He betrothed me—”
Win met her gaze, his blue eyes sweet as summer sun. “Did he?”
Reminiscing, she’d walked into a trap.
“Foolish of him, sad for you. Why did you not marry?”
“I learned he wanted—” my inheritance “—my good name to wash his own.” That was true. She had not lied.
“And you ran away?”
“No. He withdrew his offer.”
“Prudent of him. My mother would have a few acerbic things to say about men who prey upon unsuspecting women. Ingratiate themselves and take what they wish.” He studied her. “Is that what happened to you?”
She’d revealed this much, she could admit the rest. “I was not ruined. Not…not physically. But I did think that a man should be an honorable companion, a protector of the woman he wished to court. I did not think the man I liked could be…unethical. But he was. I was happy my…my circumstances changed so that I was not bound to him.”
“Sir?” Shrewsbury addressed him from the open door. In his hands he carried a tray laden with teapot, crystal decanter of spirits, jars of jams and a heaping pile of biscuits.
“Shrewsbury, wonderful. Miss Swanson and I have worked up an appetite.”
The butler brought over the tray, set it on the table between Win and her, then checked her eyes. When she smiled, the man did too. “Will that be all, sir?”
“Indeed. Close the doors as you leave.”
When he had, Win indicated the tray. “Will you pour, please?”
“Of course, sir.” She bent to the task, checking his expression when her tongs passed a raspberry tart or a cucumber toast. “Milk? Sugar?”
“Neither.” He took the china from her and set them to his other side. “So tell me. Your grandfather lived close to the shore?”
Had she said that? She must be more careful. “We had a small summer house in Brighton.”
“And your usual residence?”
“Was not far away.” Only twenty miles.
“Belle. You speak of a childhood with means and a family who loved you. You pour tea as you were taught. Like a lady. May I not know more about you?”
She was angry. At the need to hide who she was…or rather, had been. “I am a changeling.”
“Never!”
Anger bit her. “I thought I was one thing and learned in the space of a few days, I was not.”
“And then you had to hire yourself out as a governess.”
“I did.”
“Would you want to tell me why you are really here? Why you need so much money?”
She shot to her feet. “No. I am ashamed of it.”
“You did something wrong? Illegal?”
“Oh, no. Not me.”
“Who then? Please sit and tell me, Belle.”
“I cannot.”
“How much money do you need in total?”
His question appalled her. She put a hand to her forehead. “You press me.”
“I do. The total sum. What is it?”
His assault on her raised her ire. This was why he was a famed military commander. He pursued his enemy to the wall. “Why?”
“I need to know the total, so that I may predict the day you leave me.”
Foiled by his endearments, she wished to run, but did not want to leave him. Not ever.
“Ah. As I suspected. You can’t deny that, can you?”
She worried her lower lip. Yes, she’d leave him. Had too. She could not stay and watch him marry another woman. Care for her. Have children with her. She must go. With or without her inheritance secured to her.
“Very well, Belle. Keep your own counsel. But I want you to know, I wish you to remain with us. Daphne needs you. And I need you as well. And not for the same reasons.”
A sweet revelation she must not take advantage of. “That must not be.”
He stood and put his arms around her. Comforted by his warmth, she could not step away. Greedy for what he offered, she lingered there.
He lifted her chin. His voice soft as he seduced her. “The bigger question is, do you care for us? Do you care for me?”
She wanted to confess how she valued him, admired him. But what right had she? She’d prided herself on her self-reliance, on her own inventiveness, her ingenuity to solve a problem. But caring too much for this man solved nothing. It only made her life more complicated. More miserable. “Oh, I care for you. How could I not? You have been kind, generous to me, a gentleman. But there can be no more than that between us, sir.”
She stepped from his embrace.
He stared at her, immobile, stalwart, forbidding. She’d rebuffed him, insulted him.
“A week Friday,” he said in measured tone, “I host a dinner party here.”
She examined him, unsure why he would tell her this.
“I should like you to be my guest.”
She caught her breath. “I cannot do that. You know it would cause a stir. Your mother, for one, would be outraged.”
“This is my house. You are welcome to this party. I say it is so.”
“I thank you for the invitation, but it is impossible for me to attend.” What if another guest recognizes me? Ignores me? Or worse, asks me of my status? “I cannot, sir. Please do not insist.”
“I will ask again.”
“I will refuse again.” All the more reason for me to leave here as soon as possible. Resolve my matter with my grandfather’s will and depart this grand temptation.
He inhaled, clasped his hands behind his back. “The next day, I move the household to the country. The renovations in Daphne’s suite will begin. She cannot stay here. We’re leaving London for better air. And you are coming with me.”
Alarm pulsed through her veins. She’d have to secure more services from this lawyer tomorrow, total fee in hand or not. She could not disappear in the country for the summer without securing help to get her inheritance back.
“What’s the matter? Do you not wish to go to the country?” His words were cool, impersonal.
“I do. I like the air. I can teach Daphne about her precious bugs. And your spiders.” Best to request now what she needed. “I must ask a favor of you, sir.”
“Anything.”
“May I have the afternoon to myself tomorrow? I have business in the City I must settle before I go south with the household.”
“What time would you go?”
She guessed to hire a hack and travel into the City, she’d need at least an hour. If she arrived early, all the better. “One o’clock?”
“Done.”
Chapter 11
Daphne asked as Pan and Kringle sat quietly near the kitchen table. “When will you come back?”
“In a few hours.” Belle hoped she’d find her way to the City easily. Before this, she’d visited in London only twice with her grandfather and they had stayed with friends of his in Kensington. She didn’t know her way around and would depend upon a hired hackney cab to deliver her to the proper address. What’s more, she hoped her two pounds would be enough to pay for both fares to and from the lawyer’s offices. “Be attentive to your numbers, Daphne. If you finish, study the book.”
“Pan doesn’t like the poetry.”
“Ah.” The monkey tipped his head in imitation of his little owner. Belle swallowed a smile. “Pan doesn’t need to like it. He won’t be called upon to speak of delicate matters when he’s in a drawing room full of intelligent people.”
Daphne pouted.
“Do be good. We’ll ask Cook for a reward when I return.”
The little girl brightened.
“Wonderful.” Belle brushed her fingertips across Daphne’s soft cheek. “I’m off.”
In the foyer, Belle spied Shrewsbury. “I hope to be home within a few hours. Miss Daphne should be well occupied with her numbers and handwriting. The animals, however, look restive.”
The butler snorted. “Miss Swanson, those animals always look restive. I’ll have Fowle
r take them out, give them the air.”
“Thank you, Shrewsbury. You are my right hand.”
“Good day, Miss Swanson,” he said as he swung open the front door for her.
She stepped to the porch, the springtime sun bright upon her face and took a step down. Only to pause. There before her in the street stood the Cartwell town coach, the step already down for her. Inside, she detected a pair of long, lean legs clad in buff trousers.
Hart, the coachman jumped from his perch. “Miss Swanson. Join us.”
Win could not be denied, could he? She would have to be strong to counter him. But did she have the will when she cared so much for him?
“Your destination, Miss Swanson?” Hart asked.
“Bridge Street. Number five.” She grasped his hand, stepped up inside the coach and took the sumptuous seat in the squabs opposite his lordship. Win had planned this, as he had the visits to Hyde Park.
“I thought you’d need the convenience of the coach,” he told her, his gloved hands folded in his lap, one leg crossed nonchalantly over the other. He’d removed his town hat, his blond hair only slightly mussed, his charming navy frock coat complemented by the gold striped damask of his waistcoat and white stock.
She suppressed the desire to smile at him. “I am indebted to you for the ride.”
“A hired hack can cost a considerable sum.”
“I had no idea of the cost,” she admitted.
“As I suspected. I know how you wish to save as much money as you can for your project.”
“I do.” She fidgeted with her gloves and avoided gazing at him.
“You don’t care for me here, I assume. Please know that I do not mean to be intrusive, Belle. I simply wish to save myself another request for an increase in salary.”
She burst out laughing. “That, I do not believe at all.”
“No?” He toyed with a grin.
“I won’t ask you for any more. You’ve been very generous to me.”
“And can you achieve your goals with the ten pounds I gave you in advance?”
I hope so. “To be honest, I won’t know until I speak with the gentleman I visit.”
Win went silent.
His examination of her face caused her an excruciating tug of will. How could she deny his goodness? She’d never met a man so kind.
His Tempting Governess: Delightful Doings in Dudley Crescent, Book 2 Page 12