by Jenna Jaxon
Lady Downing, however, a fluttering bird-like woman in dove gray who perched on the edge of the sofa, gave her a wavering smile. “Lord Trevor is such a thoughtful young man.”
“Let us be to the point, Miss Carlton.” Lord Downing broke in, giving his wife a withering look. “Have you prior experience with children? I would not wish to place my only grandchild in the hands of an unqualified governess.”
His lordship’s narrow nose and thin lips sent a shiver of foreboding cascading down Violet’s back. Still, she must forget everything except securing this position. Planting her feet firmly, she met Lord Downing’s eyes. “This will be the first such position for which I have applied, my lord. Until earlier this year I was companion to my grandmother, Lady Crenshaw.”
“Edwina Crenshaw?” Lady Downing broke in excitedly. “I hadn’t heard she had died.”
“No, my lady. Her first name was Aurelia. She was the widow of Sir Robert Crenshaw, of Headley Hall in Essex.” Fervently, Violet prayed her ladyship was not acquainted with her grandmother. If she could keep them from finding out about the scandal with her brother, she’d have a much better chance of securing this position. They hadn’t seemed to recognize her name, which boded well for keeping that secret.
“Oh.” Lady Downing looked disappointed, but shook her head. “No, I am afraid we were not acquainted.”
Violet released a grateful breath. “She became increasingly reclusive after my grandfather’s death almost twenty years ago. I cared for her until her death in March. After a suitable period of mourning, I contacted Lord Trevor for assistance.”
Lady Downing tapped her lips with her forefinger. “Did I not see you at the Braeton’s Christmas ball?”
“Yes, my lady, you may indeed have.” Violet’s stomach twisted, but she forced herself to maintain a pleasant demeanor. “I had made the acquaintance of Miss Forsythe earlier in the season. She asked her cousin, Lady Braeton, to invite me.” Dreading where the conversation seemed to be heading, she cast her gaze to the floor.
“Trying to secure a title, Miss Carlton?” His black eyes staring her down, Lord Downing leaned back on the sofa, his lips twisted in a smirk.
“I had hoped to marry, yes, my lord. As is every woman’s duty.” Heart in her throat, Violet struggled to remain calm. “A titled gentleman was not a requirement. Unfortunately, I have not been so fortunate as to secure the affections of a respectable man. Therefore, when Lord Trevor told me of your current difficulty, I thought it could be another way for me to lead a useful life.” If they would not have her, God knew what she would do. Perhaps take Susan up on the offer of an introduction in her village. Glancing from the harsh lines of Lord Downing’s visage to the nervous fluttering of Lady Downing, she began to hope for rejection.
“Have you ever had charge of children before, Miss Carlton? Younger brothers or sisters, perhaps?” Head cocked, Lady Downing leaned forward, a gleam in her eyes.
“I am sorry, my lady, but no. I was the youngest in my family.” Violet bit her lip, thinking furiously. “I did have charge of the children of our church one year.” That much was true, although the sum total had been two little girls. Still, she had been in charge of them at the age of ten.
“You managed them with no incident?” Her ladyship’s beady eyes flitted toward her husband, then back to Violet.
“Yes, my lady. We got on well, no trouble whatsoever.” Apparently, the tide of opinion was turning with Lady Downing. “I thought at the time I would enjoy having children of my own one day.”
Her ladyship gave a curt nod of her head and rose. “Then I believe this interview is at an end, Miss Carlton.”
“What?” Lord Downing jumped to his feet. “What do you mean, my dear?”
“I think Miss Carlton will do excellently as governess to Anna.” His lady gestured toward the door. “If you will come with me, Miss Carlton, I will introduce you to your charge.”
“Harriet, you are too…too… hasty,” Lord Downing sputtered, scowling at Violet.
“Nonsense.” With a dismissive wave of her hand toward her husband, the lady continued toward the door.
“She has almost no experience. She won’t be able to handle the child.” Lord Downing trailed behind them, his face reddening to the color of brick.
“I see no reason why she couldn’t try.” Lady Downing shot him a look that made Violet hastily revise her opinion of the viscountess. The woman had a lot more steel in her than her looks gave on.
Violet expected further argument from his lordship, but Lady Downing silenced him by leading her out of the room, leaving her husband behind, fuming silently. She could hear the heavy breathing diminish as she followed her ladyship down the corridor to a different part of the house.
“The nursery is in the east wing,” Lady Downing said over her shoulder. “You will have a classroom for Anna’s lessons. Her bedchamber is next to it with your chamber beyond. Did you bring your belongings?”
“Yes, my lady. They are in the carriage, but my…companion can see to their removal if you think I will suit.” As she strode after the viscountess, Violet managed to take in the quiet cream-colored walls, the gold carpets, and the rich tones of the artwork hung at intervals along the corridor. Most were landscapes that brought the beauty of the outdoors into the house.
“These paintings are wonderful, Lady Downing.” She paused to examine one depicting a riot of trees in bold autumn golds and reds. “Such excellent brush strokes. One thinks one is gazing out a window.” Violet had taken drawing lessons when she was younger, but music had been where her talents lay and she had turned her attention to her instruments. Still, she could recognize superior talent when she saw it. “Are these your work, my lady?” Each painting was signed with the initials DIH only.
“No, no, Miss Carlton.” Lady Downing’s voice held a touch of pride, despite her denial. “These are the works of my daughter, Dora. She has always excelled in water colors.”
Violet’s heart lurched so badly her face twisted against the sudden pain. She tried to mask it by stopping to peer at another picture. Lord, she needed to sit down before her legs gave way. Nonsense. She gritted her teeth and locked her knees. If she was going to live in the same house as Tris’s fiancée, she had better get used to hearing her name. Steel herself for the inevitable meeting. She had just missed an introduction to Miss Harper at the Braeton’s Christmas ball. That would have been even more awkward, now she was employed by the girl’s family. Decidedly awkward in any case. Perhaps tucked away here in the east wing she would not see either Miss Harper or Tris very much. A blessing and a curse. At least she could hope to settle in and get her bearings before stirring up a hornet’s nest in her heart.
After a moment to compose herself, she continued down the corridor with Lady Downing. They arrived at the nursery door.
“Sweetheart?” Lady Downing called. “Grandmamma is here with a nice new lady for you to play with. Won’t that be ever so much fun?” She pushed the latch and the door swung open into a cozy room, the soft pink walls glowing in the bright afternoon sun. A small girl, dressed in a gown a shade or two lighter than the walls, had been sitting by the fireplace, a doll in her lap. She looked up, her round, cherubic face bursting into a wide smile. Fine porcelain skin, red cheeks, and golden curls made the child look like a doll herself.
“Grandmamma!” She ran to Lady Downing and threw her arms around her. “Come listen to the story Aunt Dora is telling me. All about a knight who rescues a fair maiden from a terrible castle and the two ogres who are holding her captive.”
Violet stopped dead, her face draining of blood so quickly she clutched the doorframe to keep from fainting. Her gaze skipped from Anna, tugging Lady Downing toward the fireplace, to the figure sitting in the other armchair. Another blond head, this one belonging to an older girl with a sweet face and worried eyes. Violet’s chest tightened and she forced herself to breathe.
Miss Harper’s gaze fell on her and he
r shoulders relaxed. She smiled and nodded, then turned her attention back to her mother and niece.
Violet’s heart gave a terrible thump, then resumed its normal beating. Her breathing too seemed easier, thank goodness. Perhaps she would get through the next minutes without disgracing herself.
“Anna, Dora, come meet Miss Violet Carlton. She will be your new governess, Anna. Make your curtsey, my love.” Lady Downing beamed as the child bobbed a short curtsey, her skirts held out awkwardly at her sides.
“How do you do, Miss Carlton?” Anna spoke carefully, looking at her with frankly inquisitive eyes.
This was the unruly child who had driven off two governesses?
“I am quite well, thank you, Anna. How are you today?” Aware of the eyes on her, Violet forced herself to focus on her charge only.
“Oh, Aunt Dora and I have been having such fun,” she said, her sweet high voice hinting at giggles. She smiled in delight at her aunt. “We’ve been telling stories and singing songs.” Her brows puckered. “Will we still be able to do that, Miss Carlton?”
Immediately, Violet crouched down before the thin child and smiled at her. “I believe we can manage stories and songs as well as other lessons. Do you know your numbers?”
“Of course I do. I can count all the way up to twenty.” The shiny blond head nodded fiercely.
“I see. That’s very good. But can you count it in French?” She studied the grave face and watched it fall.
“No.” Shaking her head, Anna sighed. “I don’t know how to do that at all.”
“Well,” Violet said, holding out her hand. “I can teach you. There’s a counting game I know where you tell stories about the numbers in French. Would you like to play it with me?”
The cherub’s smile returned. “Oh, yes, please.” She grabbed Violet’s hand and pulled her toward the fire. “I love to play games.”
They sat together, the heat of the flames finally bringing some feeling back into Violet’s frozen fingers. “Very well. First, let me hear your numbers in English.”
As Anna began, Violet glanced up to catch Lady Downing’s eye, trying to gauge her acceptance. The room, however, was empty save for her and her student, although the memory of the beautiful blond Miss Harper lingered, like a ghost in the air, unseen but felt like a cold hand on her heart.
Chapter 24
“Mind your sleeve, Anna. Don’t get it in the jam.” Violet pushed back the endangered garment and poured herself another cup of tea. Her third day as Anna’s governess found her rather proud of how well they had been getting along. And how easily she seemed to fit the role.
The first day the little girl had been shy and withdrawn, surprising Violet because of the easy way Anna had accepted her the day before. Violet made sure to keep a pleasant but firm tone as they went through their lessons, ending with the story of The Little Glass Slipper. The next day at tea, Anna offered Violet some of her cake, which Violet took and praised her for her good manners. Today Anna bubbled with chatter, asking Violet all kinds of questions, and showing off her skills in reading and sums.
Violet sipped her tea and shook her head, staring at the six-year-old in total bewilderment. How could anyone think this precious child incorrigible? A sweeter girl she’d never seen.
A maid entered to clear away the tea things. Violet sighed contentedly until she glanced up to find Miss Harper in the doorway. Her throat closed as if a hand had seized it. She leaped to her feet, banging her knee on the low table so hard it made the dishes dance.
“Miss Harper. What a pleasant surprise.” Lord, but she’d been dreading this encounter. Jealousy and guilt hammered her heart by turns. She’d slept with this woman’s betrothed. Was in love with him as well. How could she speak a word and not let on?
“Aunt Dora.” Anna ran to her, flinging her arms around her.
Pray God Miss Harper never found out her feelings. Such treachery could scarcely be forgiven. Therefore, she must play her part as well as any actress in a Covent Garden theatre. She straightened her dress and gazed expectantly at the younger woman.
“Oh, I am sorry.” Miss Harper nodded at her skirt, presumably where her knee still smarted, while held in Anna’s death grip.
“It’s nothing, really.” Violet’s gaze darted around the room, making sure all was tidy. It wouldn’t do for her to appear disorderly. “Anna, you must greet people properly and not attack them as if you were a savage from darkest Africa.”
“Have you come to play with us, Aunt Dora?” Reluctantly, Anna let go of her aunt’s waist. “We’ve had a lovely morning tea party with all my dolls.” She pouted her lips. “But you’ve come too late for tea.”
“I see that, poppet.” A soft gleam in her eyes, Miss Harper took the small chin in her hand. “I’ll have tea with you one day very soon, if Miss Carlton is agreeable.” She shot Violet a questioning look.
“Yes, of course.” Violet nodded, her head spinning. Her stomach twisted even as she smiled. She suspected entertaining Miss Harper would be akin to swallowing glass, but Anna’s peaked face lit up in joy at the suggestion. If Miss Harper wanted to eat jam and bread with them, she’d brave it out somehow.
“Hello, darling. How is my pet?” Simon Harper’s voice, coming unexpectedly, startled Violet so badly she staggered toward the fireplace.
“Simon.” Miss Harper seemed as happy to see him as Violet. “Whatever are you doing here?”
“Can’t a man look in on his only daughter from time to time without being a nine-days wonder?” He swung Anna up into his arms, making her squeal with laughter. “Miss Carlton won’t mind, I’m sure.” His gaze trailed over Violet’s face, a flicker of interest that extinguished itself immediately.
“Of course not, Mr. Harper.” Violet noted the delight on Anna’s face. “You must come visit Anna whenever you can spare a moment. You seem to have made her very happy today.”
Arms around her father’s neck, Anna giggled and laid her head on his shoulder. “You can come have tea with Miss Carlton and Aunt Dora and Countess Hepplewhite and Princess Beatrice. And me.”
“Who are Countess Hepplewhite and Princess Beatrice, poppet?” Mr. Harper grinned at his daughter. He seemed very devoted to the child.
“My dolls, of course, Papa.” The little girl snuggled against him. “They would love for you to come to tea tomorrow. Ever so much they would.”
Violet struggled to keep from smiling at Mr. Harper’s look of alarm. She’d have company in the nursery tomorrow. She’d lay a wager on it.
“Well, we shall see, my love.” He kissed the pale face and set her down. “I don’t expect it would be much trouble, would it, Miss Carlton?”
“None whatsoever, Mr. Harper. Shall we expect you as well, Miss Harper?”
“I don’t…” Miss Harper glanced from Anna to her brother, her gaze finally coming to rest on Violet. “Yes, I believe I will come as well.”
“Hmph.” Mr. Harper narrowed his eyes at his sister and strode from the room.
“Oh, goody.” Anna clapped her hands. “We will have a party.” Her round face and blue eyes peeking out from beneath her white mob cap made her look more like a cherub than ever.
“I suppose it shall be, lovey.” Miss Harper took Anna’s hand, drawing her toward the warmth of the fire. Her gaze met Violet’s and she shrugged. “Quite a party indeed.”
* * * *
“Shall I give you more tea, Lady Hepplewhite?” With exaggerated motions, Anna pretended to pour into her doll’s cup.
Tea with Anna and her guests had proved a pleasant surprise for Violet.
“Oh, no more for me, my dear,” Anna answered in a squeaky voice.
Miss Harper smiled, delighted with her niece. She held out her cup. “I, however, will take some more from Miss Carlton’s teapot, if you please.”
“Certainly.” Violet lifted the pot and poured with a steadier hand than she expected. About halfway through the party, she’d finally stopped
trembling at Miss Harper’s presence. The girl obviously had no idea of her liaison with Tris. Of course, he would never have divulged such a thing to his bride-to-be. Even so, her cheeks kept heating at the slightest provocation. She bent her head over the teapot to hide them. “Would you like more as well, Mr. Harper?”
“No, I fear I must leave you now.” He touched Anna’s golden curls and sighed. “There’s some business Grandpapa has asked me to do, poppet.”
Anna’s mouth turned downward like a waterspout. Her brows lowered in a dark frown. “But you promised.”
“Yes, and I have kept that promise, lovey. I have taken Miss Carlton’s excellent tea with you, and Aunt Dora, and Princess Hepplewhite.” He glanced at Violet, his gaze lingering on her a beat too long. “Thank you, Miss Carlton.”
“Her name is Countess Hepplewhite.” The girl poked her bottom lip out, two tears rolling down her face.
“I beg your pardon, Countess,” Mr. Harpers said, rising to bow to the doll propped up beside Anna.
“No, Papa. Don’t go.” Anna jumped to her feet and threw her arms around her father’s legs. “I don’t want you to go.”
“Thank you, my love.” He lifted his daughter in his arms, hugging her to him. His gaze met Violet’s. “Then I certainly must come again, shan’t I?”
Anna nodded and burrowed her wet face into his shoulder.
“Good. I shall look forward to it.” Kissing the top of the golden head, he set her on the floor. “I will return another day and stay longer for more tea.” He bowed to his sister. “Dora.”
The sneering tone caught Violet off guard. She stared at him, unsettled by the thinly veiled contempt in his voice.
“Miss Carlton, good day.” Mr. Harper stalked out of the room without a backward glance.
“Papa.” Anna’s forlorn face brought Violet out of her trance.
“Come, my dear. Let’s have a story and then a nap. If you’re good and go straight to sleep, we will go out into the garden and make a snowman when you awake.” She held her hand out to the woebegone little girl, who looked as if she would burst into tears anew, but instead she gulped and took her hand. With a nod to Miss Harper, Violet led her charge into the bedroom.