The Returned Lords of Grosvenor Square: A Regency Romance Boxset

by Rose Pearson

  Mr. Thomas, the butler, snorted, making Jenny glance back at him in surprise.

  “We shall see just how long you will be staying, Miss Edgington, once you have endured a week with John and Mary,” he said, with a lift of his thick, grey brows. “Prepare yourself, Miss Edgington.”

  Feeling as though she were about to face an onslaught, Jenny drew in a long breath and set her shoulders. “I am quite prepared, thank you,” she stated, firmly, not wanting to have her opinion of the children marred by what the butler and Mrs. Blaine thought. “Shall we go in search of them, Mrs. Blaine?”

  Her bright smile did not make Mrs. Blaine appear any more convinced than the butler that her first meeting with the children would go well. The housekeeper sighed, shrugged, and then began to walk towards the set of stairs which lay just to Jenny’s left. Being a little shorter than Jenny, Mrs. Blaine had to walk with quick steps in order to keep abreast of Jenny, which gave Jenny the impression that the lady had some urgency in establishing Jenny with the children. She could not imagine what this home had been like in the time since the first governess had left. She was rather concerned to note that Lady Carrington’s own sister, Lady Matthews, had not remained for the length of her planned stay but had rather stated that she would find a new governess for the children, before she left unexpectedly early. From what she remembered of Lady Matthews – for, even though they were distantly related, she had never known her particularly well – she was a kind, genteel lady with a firm voice and a sharp gaze. Surely the children would have responded to such a character as that?

  The sound of loud voices soon met Jenny’s ears and she found herself twisting her hands together as she finished climbing the stairs, now reaching the top. She quickly followed Mrs. Blaine along the hallway. The house was grand indeed and Jenny found herself almost overawed by the beauty of it, wondering if she would ever truly feel at home in such a place as this.

  “You can hear them already,” Mrs. Blaine sighed, throwing Jenny a sharp glance over her shoulder. “I do hope you are ready, Miss Edgington.”

  Jenny did not respond, aware of the shouts and yells that seemed to be coming in ever-increasing frequency towards them. Another short flight of stairs led them to the top of the house, which Jenny presumed was where the schoolroom and her own rooms were to be.

  A footman made to hurry past them, stopping suddenly when he saw Jenny.

  “I have just finished putting the last of your things in your room, Miss Edgington,” he said, making her realize it was the same, friendly footman she had seen before. “But I’m afraid the children would not leave the room and have….” He trailed off, his eyes widening as he looked at her, as though desperate for her to understand and not place the blame on his shoulders.

  “Good gracious,” Mrs. Blaine muttered, passing one hand over her eyes. “Do hurry, Miss Edgington. They will tear apart every single thing you own if you do not!”

  Jenny did not say a word to the footman, but hurried past him, hearing the cries of glee and feeling her stomach tighten with tension and anxiety. Making her way into the room that was now to be her own, she came to a sudden stop at the sight that lay before her.

  The two children were busy emptying her bags, throwing every single thing it contained either onto the bed or to another part of the room. Gasping with shock, she covered her hand with her mouth and stared at the mess that lay before them.

  “I did warn you,” Mrs. Blaine muttered, pressing one hand to Jenny’s back so as to encourage her to come into the room a little more. “You must take charge of them, Miss Edgington, else they will not respect you and things will simply get worse.”

  Jenny, who had gone a trifle weak with the shock of what she saw, swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to appear as fearsome and as authoritative as possible.

  “Stop this at once!” she demanded, planting her hands on her hips and speaking as loudly as she could. “How dare you show me such disrespect?”

  The two children stopped suddenly, looking up at her with matching blank expressions.

  “You will put my things down and return to the schoolroom,” Jenny demanded, appearing a good deal more confident than she felt. “I will not stand for such treatment!”

  So saying, she stepped to one side and held her arm out towards the door, keeping her eyes fixed on the older of the two, the young boy. Unfortunately, he did nothing but smirk, his eyes narrowing as he began to saunter towards her.

  “You must be our new governess,” he said, with more arrogance than Jenny had expected for a ten-year-old boy to possess. “I cannot say that I am glad to meet you.”

  A flush of anger rose in Jenny’s cheeks but she controlled herself with an effort.

  “Nor I,” the young girl said, making her way towards her brother, although, Jenny noticed, she did set down Jenny’s prayer book on the bed beside the bag instead of taking it with her. “We were easily able to rid ourselves of Mrs. Smith, so I hardly think that you shall be much more difficult.”

  “I have no intention of leaving,” Jenny stated, firmly, looking down into the children’s faces and seeing them so similar in their features. They both had the same blue eyes that she remembered their mother having, although their brown hair was darker than Lady Carrington’s had been. “My name is Miss Edgington. I am a relative of your late mother and I can understand your grief, truly.” She tried a small smile to see if it would help improve their impression of her. “I will not be leaving this house nor do I have any intention of being pushed from it. I am here to be your governess and that is what I intend to be.”

  To her horror, John simply laughed up into her face, the sound cold and cruel – and Jenny felt a shiver run down her spine.

  “We will see,” he replied, coming closer to her and, much to Jenny’s shock, deliberately walking across her feet with his shoes. A cry of pain jumped to her lips but she held it back with an effort, refusing to allow herself to reach out and push him away from her for fear that he would react badly to a physical touch.

  “You are much too confident, Miss Edgington,” Mary replied, coming closer to her brother and, in her turn, treading on Jenny’s toes, dirtying the hem of her gown. “We shall have you gone from this place within a sennight.”

  Jenny leaned down over the girl and, to her satisfaction, saw a look of uncertainty jump into her eyes.

  “I am not as weak as you believe me to be,” she stated, coldly, suddenly determined she would prove to these children that she was not the sort of governess who would be turned away so easily. “I know full well that your pain and grief must be hurting your heart, and whether or not you wish to reveal it to me, I can tell that it is paining you terribly. If you will allow me, Mary, I can help you find some happiness again.”

  She held the little girl’s gaze and felt quite sure that the girl would simply nod and continue on out of her rooms, perhaps throwing her a contemplative glance as she did so. What she did not expect was for Mary to burst into laughter and stamp down hard on Jenny’s foot all over again. All this before running past Jenny and out into the hallway to make her way to the schoolroom.

  Jenny closed her eyes, gritting her teeth as she dealt with the throbbing pain that was now running up her leg.

  “I did tell you they were difficult,” Mrs. Blaine said, as though this was in some way meant to be a comfort. “Are you quite sure you don’t want me to call the carriage back around to take you home?” This was said with a rueful smile and a knowing look, but despite the pain, despite the frustration and the anger that filled her, Jenny felt a fierce determination. She would remain here, just as she had stated to Mary. Grief did a good many things to someone’s heart and she could not imagine what effect it must have had on a little girl and boy.

  “I do not have much to return to,” she said, honestly, lifting her chin and facing Mrs. Blaine with a firm look. “My parents’ home is now filled with tenants and, therefore, I do not have a home to return to.” She smiled at the maid who came i
nto the room carrying a tea tray. “I have every intention of remaining here, Mrs. Blaine. The children have not made a good first impression, I will admit, but that does not mean I am about to give up on them.”

  Mrs. Blaine’s eyes widened in surprise at Jenny’s response, but in the end, she simply shrugged and walked to the door.

  “Very well, then,” she said, leaving Jenny to sink down onto the bed in the midst of the mess of clothes and belongings strewn about. “I shall leave you to rest for a time, Miss Edgington. I look forward to seeing you again later this afternoon.”

  “Thank you,” Jenny replied, with a tight smile. “Until later, Mrs. Blaine.”

  Chapter One

  “How long is it now since you sent your children away?”

  Stephen, Duke of Carrington, looked up at his commanding officer, Colonel Fitchley, surprised at such a question.

  “It has been a little over eight months now,” he stated, calmly, trying not to allow his mind to think on them for fear that his heart would break into further pieces. “I have heard the new governess has arrived and am assured that all is well.”

  “You, however, do not appear to be doing particularly well,” the officer replied, eyeing Stephen keenly. “It has been a year now since your wife passed away, and whilst I am aware that you have endured your mourning period without much word to anyone, I have become concerned that your grief still remains.”

  Stephen bit back his first, sharp response, knowing that he would not and could not speak disrespectfully to his superior. “It is a dreadful thing to lose one’s wife,” he stated, as calmly as he could. “I miss her still.”

  “I am well aware of that,” Colonel Fitchley replied, quickly, “but your drinking to excess has become noted by those around you and is not, I am afraid, appropriate behavior for someone such as you.”

  A muscle ticked in Stephen’s jaw as the Colonel’s sharp brown eyes remained fixed on him. Colonel Fitchley had simply allowed Stephen to work through his mourning period for his late wife without saying or doing anything much at all. No demands had been made of him, no words of reprimand had been spoken. It seemed as though everyone realized just how terrible it had been for him to lose Lady Carrington.

  Until today.

  “I enjoy my brandy,” he stated with a small shrug, refusing to admit to himself that even at this late hour of the afternoon, he was struggling with the effects of too much liquor. “There is nothing wrong with such a thing, surely.”

  Colonel Fitchley sighed and shook his head. “You refuse then, to admit that there is an ongoing concern in regards to your grief and your inability to cope with the responsibilities connected with it.”

  “I do not know what you are talking about,” Stephen said, harshly, turning around to face the Colonel a little more. “There are no concerns nor responsibilities for me here, save for my duties, and I have not failed in them.”

  “But you have sent your children away.”

  “What else was I to do?” Stephen cried, suddenly filled with frustration and anger that he was being questioned over his own decisions. “My wife was no longer present in this world to care for them in the way she had done. The house we lived in was unwelcoming without her presence. I could not bear to remain there and see them so alone.”

  The Colonel, who had once been so compassionate, now appeared quite resolute. “And so, instead of returning with them to England, and to your estate and your responsibilities there, you have chosen to remain with us.”

  “I have,” Stephen stated, clearly, not at all moved to change his opinion on what he should or should not be doing. “And I have every intention of continuing to remain here as I ought.”

  Colonel Fitchley shook his head. “That is where you are quite incorrect, Carrington. You have a responsibility to your children, but also to your estate and the duties therein.”

  “I care nothing for my estate,” Stephen replied, harshly, rounding on the officer. “My heir has been produced. He will be able to take on the duties required when the time comes.”

  “At the tender age of ten years old?” Colonel Fitchley demanded, slamming one hand down on the corner of Stephen’s old chest of drawers. “You are a fool if you think a child should be handed that responsibility when his father is more than able to do such a thing. Is it your intention to remain here and, in doing so, fight until you are either too weak to continue or are killed in battle?” He glared at Stephen, to the point where Stephen was forced to drop his gaze, knowing full well that the lack of care over his own wellbeing and the like came from a severe depression over what had occurred in his life. He might have had a year of mourning, but it had not softened the pain in any way whatsoever.

  “I have received word that there are difficulties in England which require your presence,” Colonel Fitchley continued, albeit in a slightly softer tone. “Your duty here is completed, Carrington. You are no longer required.”

  Stephen bristled at once. As a Duke, he had every opportunity to remain in England and never even think of responding to his duties to fight for his country, but he had been unable to do such a thing and had forced himself to throw aside the expectations of English society and instead purchase colors in order to join the army. He had never once wanted his wife to follow the drum, knowing of the difficulties that could come from such an endeavor, but Lady Martha Carrington had been quite determined. She too had assuaged all societal expectations and gone with him, until he had discovered she was pregnant with their first child. Instead of returning to England, he had settled them in India, where he had some of his holdings. It had been a happy and contented life, and Lady Carrington had soon produced their second child – a daughter. It was not until his oldest had turned eight years of age that their suddenly idyllic life had gone awry. Martha had become ill and weak, and when cholera had struck, she had not had the strength to withstand it. Sending his children back to England after her death and burial had been one of the most painful acts of his life, but he had done so in the knowledge that it was the best thing for them. He had found a young English lady on her way back to England’s fair shores and had secured her as a governess until he returned.

  Except, he was now no longer certain that he had any intentions of returning. Going back to the army had seemed like his only choice. He had joined them again before his mourning year was at an end in an attempt to rid himself of the pain that was with him almost daily, but instead, he had found himself haunted with memories of his life before Martha had passed away.

  “If you are speaking of the fact that the first young lady I secured as governess to my children has already quit the house, then, as I have already said, I have been informed that a new young woman has taken over that particular responsibility. Therefore, there can be nothing else of concern.”

  “Oh, but you are mistaken in that,” the officer said, his brows now burrowing together. “Your estate is running without your leadership. The steward has grown old and weary in his overwhelming task. He has quit your establishment and gone in search of a new situation.”

  Stephen’s mouth gaped open in astonishment, having been entirely unaware of such a change in circumstances.

  “I believe you were informed of this some days ago,” the Colonel went on, his sharp tone returning. “But you were too heavily in your cups to realize the significance.”

  Struggling to find something to say, some excuse to make and some justification to give for his lack of action in regards to this serious and significant matter, Stephen felt a rush of fear crash over him. He truly could not recall a single mention of this matter prior to this moment. Had he imbibed so much that he was losing his ability to recall matters of importance?

  “There is no excuse for this, Carrington,” the Colonel finished, sending a flash of fear down Stephen’s spine. “You must return home at once. The army no longer requires you.”

  Swallowing hard, Stephen raked one hand through his dark hair and shook his head. The thought of returning to Engl
and, to his home, and to his children, was not one that he could currently accept. If he saw John and Mary, they would remind him of his dear Martha. If he walked about his estate, he would find himself torn apart by memories. Even if he were to go to his smaller townhouse in London, it would bring back to mind the happy times he had shared with her when they were first courting.

  “You may relieve me of my responsibilities here, but I will not return to England,” he stated, the first hint of anger burning in his heart. “I will not be manipulated into doing what another believes necessary.”

  The atmosphere changed suddenly as Stephen spoke those words of defiance. His Colonel, whilst above him in rank, could not give him orders about what his duties were once he left the army! He would stand in utter defiance if he had to, but he was not about to do what Fitchley demanded.

  “Tread very carefully, Carrington.” Colonel Fitchley’s voice was low and quiet, although his warning was more than apparent. “You are not in your right mind at this present moment, which is more than obvious to almost everyone who so much as looks at you, and therefore I can easily ensure that you are brought home to your children and to your estate. I can assure you that it would not be particularly difficult.”

  Stephen rolled his eyes, no longer pretending to have any sort of respect for what the Colonel was asking. “I hardly think you have any right to tell me what I must and must not do, sir,” he stated, harshly. “Once I am gone from this place, once I am free from my duties, then what I do with my life is to be of my choosing. I shall not allow you to demand such things of me.”

  The Colonel’s face grew dark with anger. “You shall do your duty, Carrington!” he exclaimed, striding forward and grasping Stephen hard on the shoulder. “Do you understand me? You must shake this sorrow from you, else you will lose everything that is precious to you. I am only doing what I can in order to help you.”