An Untamed Governess For The Rogue (Steamy Historical Regency)

by Olivia Bennet

  “If you could muster some smiles, I would be exceptionally grateful,” the Duchess chided, wrangling them out of their hiding places.

  “Mother, we really do have other duties to attend to,” Luke protested. “Is it entirely necessary that we attend?” Edmund suspected that Luke had other reasons for protesting, though he did not say so out loud. Miss Dowels was, fortunately, nowhere to be seen, meaning Luke would have no distractions.

  Edmund nodded. “These highwaymen are still on the loose. It would be far better for us to join the armed guard than to remain here.” He paused, catching his mother’s dark look. “Although, we are happy to celebrate your anniversary. It is a joyous occasion, indeed.”

  “Then you will do me the courtesy of attending,” the Duchess replied sternly. Edmund knew when to pick his battles, and this was not one he could win.

  He dipped his head. “Of course, Mother.”

  “Are you quite serious?” Luke muttered, shooting him a despairing glance.

  Edmund shrugged. “What can we do? Mother shall beat us senseless if we disappoint her tonight. Let us return to our task on the morrow, and enjoy the evening. For her.”

  “Very well.” Luke unleashed a weary sigh and followed the Duchess down the hallway to the ballroom. Edmund walked alongside, stiffening his leg to prevent the limp from being so noticeable. With every step, he wished he could be anywhere else. I am doing this for Mother. He repeated the words to himself, as he braced for the onslaught of music and dancing.

  Although, he had no intention of actually joining the dances. That was something nobody needed to witness. Walking was one thing, but dancing was quite another. And he would not embarrass himself this night.

  A throng of revelers were already making merry, dressed in their finery, and dripping in sparkling jewels. The majority were young ladies, as expected, with their mothers and fathers in tow. Edmund looked around at the bevy of beauties, feeling sick to his stomach. He did not want to be here, not one bit. He felt certain his mother would urge him to take a partner, at least for one dance, but that was the last thing he wanted.

  “Cheer up, Edmund, you might find some poor soul willing to be your wife amongst this crowd,” Luke teased. “Being the firstborn, it is your duty. Besides, you know young ladies cannot resist a soldier, especially one who will never have to face conflict again.”

  Why, you devil! What was he trying to imply? He swallowed his anger quickly, knowing it would not do to start a squabble during their mother’s splendid occasion.

  “And you believe Mother will allow you to be a permanent bachelor?” Edmund snorted instead. “After your behavior with Miss Dowels, she is far more likely to marry you off first.”

  Luke paled. “You are the one who needs to marry first, Edmund. And there is nothing for anyone to fret about, where Miss Dowels and I are concerned. You should worry about yourself before you start worrying about me.” With that, he headed through the crowds, in search of a goblet of champagne. Edmund sighed. His brother would make an embarrassment of himself before the night was over—he was almost certain of that.

  Although, it looks as though I touched on a nerve. That worried Edmund all the more. He had thought Luke’s fancy towards Miss Dowels to be a fleeting infatuation. However, his spiky reaction spoke of something more. That will not do.

  * * *

  Indeed, five goblets later, Luke was feeling somewhat merry. His head had begun to spin, and his vision had grown blurry. Still, he could not enjoy the colorful scenery. The music was jaunty and engaging, and there really were some rather beautiful women in attendance, but he could think only of another woman… one who had remained behind. The only one he wanted to dance with, and be close to.

  Why may I not pursue this admiration I have for her? Why may I not court her in the future, if we choose such a path? Is she not as lovely as any of these ladies? Is she not far superior, even? He could feel the pressure weighing down on his shoulders. If he did not leave the ball tonight with a potential wife in line, his mother would, no doubt, have some choice words to say. And he did not know how he could avoid it. She had already steered him towards several young ladies, whom he cared not a fig for.

  Figuring he might make a sly exit and deal with the consequences later, he crossed the gaudy ballroom. Reaching the door that led through to one of the private dining rooms, which was empty for this evening, he slipped into the darkened space beyond. He was halfway across, eager to reach the far door that opened onto freedom, when a sound made him stop. A snuffle in the shadows.

  “Is someone there?” he asked, peering into the gloom.

  “Do not mind me, My Lord,” a small, feminine voice replied. A voice he recognized.

  “Come into the light, where I may see you better.”

  There was a rustle of fabric, as a figure emerged. Miss Dowels walked into the glow of the lamplight. Those intoxicating, dark brown doe eyes of hers were rimmed with red, her cheeks streaked with tears.

  “Are you quite well?” Luke asked, suddenly stricken with alarm. What had caused such upset? “Has something happened?”

  She shook her head desperately. “No, nobody must know that I am here. I am hiding from… well, that does not matter.”

  “Speak, please. I urge you.” He crossed the gap between them, until he was so close that he might have pulled her into his arms.

  “I thought that I had been granted an invitation to Her Grace’s anniversary celebrations. Lady Felicity even offered me a gown for the occasion,” Miss Dowels explained, between stifled sobs. “I descended, so that I could join the revels, but the Duchess stopped me. She said it would be best if I did not attend. It is foolish, I know, to be weeping over such a trivial matter. In truth, I do not know why I am so upset. I suppose… never mind. It is not important.”

  Luke’s heart ached for her. “You supposed this meant you were finally a true, innate part of our household? And my mother stole that from you, after you had dressed so finely?” A bitterness swept through his chest. How could you be so cruel, Mother?

  She held her face in her hands. “I do not know, My Lord. Perhaps. I am being silly, I know I am. Please, return to the ballroom. Do not trouble yourself on my account.”

  “Here.” He handed her his handkerchief, so she might wipe her weepy eyes. “And I am not going anywhere, you may be assured of that. My mother has behaved badly, and I would see you comforted. Although, what brings you to this room?”

  She shook her head. “I wanted to hear the music. It has been so long since I have been to a dance, and I… I just wanted to be near to it. My goodness, I am so very foolish. You must think me pathetic.”

  “Never,” he said firmly. Impulsively, he reached for her hands, pulling them away from her beautiful face. “You deserve to hear music. You deserve to dance. I am sorry that my mother has done this to you. That, you do not deserve.”

  She smiled faintly. “And what about you, My Lord? You look to be hiding.”

  “Not hiding, but making a swift exit,” he admitted.

  “Then I will not keep you,” she replied. “Nor will I tell anyone that I have seen you, for both our sakes.”

  “That is very kind, Miss Dowels, but, as I have said, I am not going to leave your side.”

  A sad little chuckle rippled from her throat. “Thank you, My Lord. But here, you must have your handkerchief back. I would not have anyone suspect that it is a token from a secret admirer.”

  “No indeed. What a scandal that would create!”

  Her face fell. “Yes… what a scandal it would create.” She sounded so deeply aggrieved that he wished he could have taken his words back. He had meant them in jest, but he could see his aim had been misplaced. And I understand why… Although they had been skirting around their affections for some time, he had not exactly made his unknown. What a fool I am.

  “You know that I do not care about such things, Miss Dowels.” He moved forward and lifted his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks. Slowly, he bru
shed his thumb across the sweet, heart-shaped birthmark upon her cheek. He had wanted to do that for so long.

  She stiffened. “You must not touch me in such a manner, My Lord.”

  “Why? There is nobody here to see us.”

  “And if someone should walk in?”

  He smiled. “They will not.”

  “Please, My Lord. I cannot lose my position.”

  “You will not. I will not allow it.” He leaned closer, her breath hot upon his lips, making them tingle. “My life altered irrevocably when you burst into my world. I will not be without you. I cannot. And please, you must call me Luke.”

  “How can this come to anything but trouble?” She gazed up at him, biting her lower lip in a way that excited him. He could feel his loins stirring at the closeness of her slender body.

  “Allow me to contend with that, Miss Dowels.” He paused. “Or may I call you Teresa?”

  She smiled nervously. “If you would like?”

  “Oh yes, Teresa, I would like that very much.” He grazed his lips against hers, unable to hold back a moment longer. Her mouth was soft and supple and willing, molding to his as if they were made for one another. Allowing one hand to slide down the curve of her waist, he pulled her even closer, until she was flush against him.

  “We should not,” she gasped against his mouth, her palms pressing against his chest.

  “Do you want me to stop?” He pulled away slightly, genuinely concerned.

  She looked up at him anxiously. “I know that we must.”

  “But?” He sensed the word, lingering in the air between them.

  “But… I do not know, My Lord. I—”

  Before she could answer, he leaned in again, catching her mouth in his. He could have tasted her all day long, savoring the sensual movement of her lips against his. And the way she felt against him, so soft and warm and inviting. He could feel his member harden beneath his trousers, as he pulled her in. All he wanted to do was take her to his bedchamber, but he knew she was not that sort of lady. And that was fine by him. After all she had been through, this would be on her terms.

  He was about to slide his hand towards her supple breast, when the door of the dining room burst open. A looming figure stood on the threshold, breathing like a bull about to charge. Luke turned in time to witness Edmund rushing at him, an expression of pure vehemence upon his portly features.

  “Explain yourself!” he cried, tearing Luke away from a terrified Teresa. “What were you doing? Speak quickly, or I shall have to call Mother and Father in here to witness your behavior.”

  Luke narrowed his eyes. “I was comforting Miss Dowels. That is why you find me in here, for I heard crying and sought to investigate. She was in tears, and I was merely wiping them away. I do not know what you believe you saw, but you are wrong.”

  “You are attempting to be coy, but I am not blind, Brother,” Edmund retorted. “You were behaving most discourteously towards Miss Dowels. Likely, she did not feel she could refuse, as you are the son of this household. But you will not touch her again, do you understand me? You will not dishonor her.”

  “Dishonor her? What do you believe me to be—a brute, like those wretched highwaymen?” Luke was quickly losing his temper. “I was merely being chivalrous, offering my handkerchief to a weeping lady.”

  “You thought to make your own affections known—do not lie to me.” Edmund growled like a rabid dog, prompting Luke to laugh. He could not help himself, when faced with such ridiculous behavior. Although, part of him was covering for poor Teresa, whose eyes were so wide and scared that it caused him a sudden wave of panic. He could not lose her, simply because he could not control himself. He would not.

  “You have mistaken the situation entirely,” he said simply. “I was attempting to escape this farce, when I happened upon Miss Dowels in a state of distress. I wished to help, that is all.”

  Teresa nodded effusively. “He is telling the truth, Lord Harpington. There was nothing untoward, I assure you. Please, you must believe us.”

  “Keep out of this! I believe you to be innocent, so do not force me to change my mind,” Edmund snapped, before turning back to Luke. “You would seek to throw a young lady into ill repute, and then have the audacity to deny it. I thought you better than that, Luke. All you need to do is apologize, and this will go no further.”

  “You are talking nonsense, Edmund.”

  “Am I?” Edmund stepped closer, nose-to-nose with Luke.

  “Yes, you are.” You wish to fight me? Go ahead. You will not win.

  “Apologize, or I will be forced to explain this to Mother and Father,” Edmund hissed. “I will not allow Miss Dowels to be disrespected like this.”

  Luke grinned, seeing an opportunity before him. “Very well, then why not settle this like the gentlemen that we are?”

  “My Lord, whatever you are thinking, put it out of your mind. Do as Lord Harpington has asked, and we may forget about this evening,” Teresa urged, but that was not Luke’s way. If Edmund was determined to behave like a child, then he would be treated accordingly.

  “Listen to her, Luke,” Edmund replied, his face twisted in a ruddy-cheeked mask of fury.

  “No, because you are the one in the wrong. I was aiding Miss Dowels. I caused her no dishonor or disrespect.” Luke paused. “What would you say to a race, to determine who ought to be the one to apologize?” The words came out so easily, the champagne staving off any fear that might have come with such a suggestion. Especially after their last race.

  Edmund took a step back, his brow furrowed. “A race?”

  “My Lord, no,” Teresa muttered, her tone pleading. He ignored her, desiring satisfaction.

  “Yes, Edmund, a race. You wish to make me apologize, and I desire the chance to clear my name of your accusation,” Luke said evenly. “If I win, then you will cease to slander my name and forget this evening. If you win, then you will have your satisfaction—you may have your apology. And if we should draw—well, at least we will have settled our dispute like gentlemen, and we may both forget our quarrel.”

  “Are you out of your mind, Luke? Why can you not simply apologize and have done with it?” Edmund replied, utterly baffled.

  “Because you want your satisfaction, and I want mine. Who am I to deny you that? But this is the way it must be done.” He was behaving recklessly, but he had cause for it. Edmund thought himself superior in all things, and Luke would not allow him to hold this over his head for the foreseeable future. This was the only way to prevent such an occurrence.

  For several minutes, Edmund said nothing.

  “Well?” Luke prompted.

  “A race… well, if you must be your stubborn self, then a race it shall be. First thing in the morning, at the entrance to Moray Park, when there will be no visitors to cause harm to.”

  Luke smiled. “No. We will race now, or I will consider your forfeiture an apology.”

  “Brother, have some sense. You have imbibed too much to race this evening,” he muttered, though Luke sensed there was nothing but self-preservation at play here. Edmund did not like to lose. Luke recognized that kind of fear on a man’s face—the looming shadow of failure, creeping through a chink in his armor. He was not the man he had been before he went to the war, and they both knew that. Still, Luke was determined to resolve this.

  “Tonight, or not at all.” Luke held his ground.

  “My Lord, do not do this,” Teresa whispered, but it was too late for that now. This was a matter of pride. He put out his hand, waiting for Edmund to shake it. I will teach you a lesson, Edmund. You will not stand between me and Teresa again. And you will not use her against me.

  “You mustn’t do this on my behalf,” Teresa whimpered, just as Edmund put out his hand and gripped Luke’s. The race had been set. They had shaken upon it.

  “You will not mention this to anyone, Miss Dowels,” Edmund said quietly. “This is not a lady’s concern, and I am sorry that you have been enveloped in our quarrels.
You should go, before you are discovered. And please, accept my apologies for my brother’s behavior. It would be a travesty to lose you from our household, and I will not allow him to bring you ruin.”

  As if I would do anything of the sort? Luke turned to Teresa, who looked as though she might burst into tears again. He wondered if he had gone too far, but he could not change matters now. He just hoped she would forgive him.

  Teresa gaped, her lip trembling. “I will say nothing,” she promised, before scurrying out of the room.

  Luke turned back to Edmund. “If you think you can blackmail me with this, you are mistaken. I was merely comforting her, as I have said. You are the one who has caused this, not I. And do not think you can charm her. She is not fooled by you. If it meant bringing me to order, you would drag her name through the dirt for your own benefit.”