Regency Surrender: Defiant Lords: His Unusual Governess / Claiming the Chaperon′s Heart
Regency Surrender: Defiant Lords: His Unusual Governess / Claiming the Chaperon's Heart
Anne Herries
It’s time to take a chance on love…His Unusual Governess by Anne HerriesSarah Hardcastle is convinced her plan to escape the unwanted attentions of a fortune-hunter are fool-proof. But her careful masquerade is shaken when she meets Lord Rupert Myers. Sarah will need her wits about her if she’s to resist Rupert’s roguish ways and keep her secret intact…Claiming the Chaperon’s Heart by Anne HerriesLord Frant is haunted by his experiences in India but when he meets recently widowed Lady Jane March he allows himself to forget. Together, they must chase away the past and find a new future!
ANNE HERRIES lives in Cambridgeshire, where she is fond of watching wildlife, and spoils the birds and squirrels that are frequent visitors to her garden. Anne loves to write about the beauty of nature, and sometimes puts a little into her books, although they are mostly about love and romance. She writes for her own enjoyment, and to give pleasure to her readers. Anne is a winner of the Romantic Novelists’ Association Romance Prize. She invites readers to contact her on her website: www.lindasole.co.uk (http://www.lindasole.co.uk)
Regency Surrender: Defiant Lords
His Unusual Governess
Anne Herries
Claiming the Chaperon’s Heart
Anne Herries
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08567-0
REGENCY SURRENDER: DEFIANT LORDS
His Unusual Governess © 2013 Anne Herries Claiming the Chaperon’s Heart © 2016 Anne Herries
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Cover (#u59119a30-9fd7-5926-829f-4c02ecaba4a5)
About the Author (#uf643ea16-5da4-5477-852e-c8846d890d38)
Title Page (#u1815c9db-59c1-5a25-9471-75528661a333)
Copyright (#u4e4beec3-721b-5970-9fa3-a1ee924acea3)
His Unusual Governess (#u775cc2aa-a727-5153-9580-a07cda3d3b69)
Prologue (#u8d3f1aca-d844-5ed4-9f2a-79c33f73cdd9)
Chapter One (#u84ba3009-60ad-5905-bcdf-0393b885bc4a)
Chapter Two (#ue5ac804d-4d93-5541-af69-4804259e77cb)
Chapter Three (#u212165b9-823b-5c26-8b6e-995c5957de4e)
Chapter Four (#u3f70a351-99dc-565b-b1a3-0ffcd1c2956d)
Chapter Five (#u6476f82a-0ab9-52b2-a616-e1006212f10f)
Chapter Six (#u80e46084-aba8-506b-89aa-e80d87d0e196)
Chapter Seven (#ufb554c92-af98-56ed-a094-9e119564e1e0)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Claiming the Chaperon’s Heart (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
His Unusual Governess (#ufeff8085-7298-5e54-93e5-cf6e726fbba8)
Anne Herries
BENEATH THE GOVERNESS’S BLUSH…
Heiress Sarah Hardcastle is convinced her plan to escape the unwanted attentions of a fortune hunter is foolproof. Buried deep in the countryside, and with a whole new identity as prim governess Miss Goodrum, Sarah is looking forward to the quiet life for once.
But her careful masquerade is shaken when she meets her pupils’ mentor, Lord Rupert Myers. An incorrigible flirt, Rupert has the looks and the charm to make Sarah blush all the way down to her high-buttoned neckline—and the determination to uncover what’s beneath! Sarah will need her wits about her if she’s to resist Rupert’s roguish ways and keep her secret intact....
I would like to dedicate this book to the memory of my great friend Paula Marshall, whom I loved dearly, as did so many of you.
Prologue (#ufeff8085-7298-5e54-93e5-cf6e726fbba8)
‘What was so important that you summoned me here?’ Lord Rupert Myers arched a languid eyebrow at the Marquess of Merrivale. ‘’Tis an unseasonable hour and I was up late last night.’ He smothered a yawn and levelled an elegant gold-rimmed eyeglass at the older man. Seeing that the marquess looked strained, he dropped the air of boredom and said in a very different tone, ‘What may I do for you, sir?’
‘Good grief, sir,’ his uncle said, looking at a coat that had so many capes it made Rupert’s broad shoulders look positively menacing. ‘Where did you get that monstrosity?’
‘Uncle!’ Devilish eyes mocked him. ‘My feelings are deeply lacerated. Don’t you know I’m a very tulip of fashion? I dare say at least six young idiots have copied this cape only this week, for I saw Harrad’s boy wearing one with nine capes and this has only seven.’
‘More fool him,’ the marquess grunted. ‘Sit down, m’boy. You make me feel awkward, towering over me like an avenging dervish. What happened to the eager young fellow I saw off to war six years ago?’
‘I dare say he grew up, sir,’ Rupert replied carelessly, but there were shadows in his eyes as he sat in the chair opposite and his mouth lost its smile. He did not care to be reminded of that time for the memories were too painful. ‘Is something bothering you?’
‘I fear it is,’ the marquess said. ‘I’m in somewhat of a pickle, m’boy—and I’m hoping you’ll sort me out.’
‘Anything to oblige. I do not forget that you stood as a father to me when my own...’ Blue fire flashed in bitter regret, for the late Lord Myers had been a rogue and a cheat and had brought his family almost to the edge of ruin. That Rupert had been able to save himself and his sister from disgrace was in large part due to this man. ‘No, I will not go down that road. Tell me what you wish, sir, and if it is in within my power I shall do it.’
‘It’s Lily’s children,’ the marquess said with a heavy sigh. ‘You know my daughter’s story, Rupert. She would marry that wastrel. I warned her that he would run through her fortune and break her heart. She wouldn’t listen and he did all that and more—he killed her.’
‘You can’t be sure of that, sir.’
‘He drove her out into the rain that night. Her maid told me of the quarrel between them. Scunthorpe broke her heart and she stayed out all night in the rain. You know what happened next...’
Rupert nodded for he did know only too well. Lily Scunthorpe had died of a fever, leaving a daughter of six years and a son of three, but that had been more than ten years previously and he could not see what the urgency was now.
‘You took the children when Scunthorpe deserted them, installed them in Cavendish Park with a governess, tutor and the requisite servants—what has happened to throw you into a fit of the blue devils?’
‘The governess and tutor both gave notice last month. I’ve tried to find replacements, but with very little success. I fear my niece and nephew have acquired a reputation for being difficult. I have managed to find a woman who is prepared to take them both on—I suspect because she has no choice—but I’m not sure she’ll stay above a few days.’
Merrivale cleared his throat. ‘They need a firm hand, Rupert. I fear I’ve spoiled them. If I read them a lecture, they would apologise sweetly and then go straight back to their old ways. Would it be too much to ask you to stand as mentor to them for a while? The boy may go to college at the end of the year and the girl...well, she ought to have a Season next spring, but I fear I shall find it hard to secure the services of a woman influential enough to give them a good start.’
‘Play bear-leader to a girl on the edge of her come-out and a rebellious youth? Good grief, Uncle! Have your wits gone begging? I’m hardly a role model for either of them. Besides being a tulip of fashion, I’m a notorious rake—or hadn’t you heard?’
Merrivale ran nervous fingers through his white hair. ‘I know you have your mistress, but I’m not suggesting you should take her with you to Cavendish.’
‘Thank you for small mercies,’ Rupert said, the light of mockery in his eyes once more. ‘She would take it as an invitation to marry me. Annais is too greedy for her own good. I have been looking for an excuse to finish the affair and I suppose one is as good as another...she has no love of the country.’
‘Do you mean you will do it?’ A look of such relief entered the marquess’s eyes that Rupert laughed out loud. ‘I should be so grateful, m’boy.’
‘I’ll do what I can for them,’ Rupert said. ‘But I must have a free hand. Discipline is never popular and I dare say one or the other will write and complain of my high-handed behaviour or some such thing.’
‘Lily was very precious to me and her children are all I have left—apart from you, m’boy. Francesca is very like her mother, but I think the boy may be more like his father. I hope John won’t turn out to be a rogue like Captain Scunthorpe—but that is why he needs a firm hand now, to knock him into shape a little before he goes to college. I suppose I should have sent him earlier, but I preferred to educate them at home—some of those schools are very harsh to boys, you know.’
‘We’ve all suffered at the hands of bullies at school,’ Rupert said. ‘John needs to learn to stand up for himself. I could teach him to box, gentleman’s rules—and perhaps fencing lessons. I’m not sure about the girl, but perhaps the governess will be what she needs.’
‘I pray she will be suitable. Her references from Lady Mary Winters were good, but Lady Mary’s daughter was leaving for finishing school in France so she may just have wanted to get the woman off her hands.’
‘How old is this governess and what is her name?’
‘She’s in her late twenties, I think, and a sensible woman. Her name is Miss Hester Goodrum and she teaches the pianoforte as well as French, literature and needlework.’
‘Miss Goodrum?’ Rupert nodded. She sounded sensible enough, though her skills were limited. ‘I’m not sure what help she would be to John. He needs rather more than that—but for the next six months he shall have the benefit of my knowledge, such as it is.’
‘I’m not sure what you mean.’ The marquess looked puzzled. ‘I thought you would just run an eye over them, give them both a lecture and then pop in once in a while?’
‘I hardly think that would do much good, sir.’ Rupert arched his right eyebrow. ‘I’ve been feeling jaded for a while and this sounds like a challenge. I shall reside at Cavendish Park until the boy goes to college and by then you will have found someone to take Francesca on, I imagine. I can be John’s mentor and tutor and keep an eye on this governess until Christmas. After that I dare say I’ll be thoroughly sick of it all, but I’ve never refused a challenge.’
‘Then take my hand on it. If I can be of service to you, you have only to ask, m’boy.’
‘You have done more for me than I could ever repay,’ Rupert assured him, clasped his hand firmly and smiled. ‘It will be a change for me. My estate is in good heart and almost runs itself these days. Besides, I shall be no more than a day’s ride from my home if I’m needed.’
‘I fear you may find they do not take kindly to authority, Rupert.’
‘I dare say John may kick a bit at the start, but he’ll gentle to the bit in time.’
Rupert waved his uncle’s gratitude aside carelessly. After all, what trouble could one young boy and a girl on the brink of womanhood be to a man of the world? He hoped the governess would be presentable and not one of those sour-face spinsters, but whatever she was like they would bob along together easily enough....
Chapter One (#ufeff8085-7298-5e54-93e5-cf6e726fbba8)
‘It was so good of you to take me up with you, Miss Hardcastle,’ Hester Goodrum said as she climbed into the comfortable chaise. ‘Lady Mary promised to send me to Cavendish Park in comfort, but she was called away to her sister’s bedside and forgot all about me. I have to be there by the end of the week, because the marquess sent word the young people would be alone by then, except for their servants, of course.’
Sarah Hardcastle looked at the woman sitting opposite her and nodded. Hester was in her late twenties, attractive, though not pretty, and kindhearted. She had heard of her predicament and been moved to offer assistance.
‘Well, I’m returning to my home in the north of England and we must pass within twenty miles of Cavendish Park. It is no trouble to take a detour, Hester.’
‘My fiancé told me I was a fool to agree to this position,’ Hester went on as she settled in her seat. ‘He wanted me to give up work and go home to Chester and marry him.’
‘Why didn’t you?’ Sarah asked and caught at the rope as the chaise moved off with a lurch. ‘I fear Coachman is in one of his moods again. If he continues this way, I shall have to call a halt and give him a scolding.’
‘Please do not do so on my account,’ Hester said. ‘I should like to get married, miss. I’ve been saving for years, but Jim needs more money to set up for himself in an inn. He’s got some savings, but we both know we need to wait for another year at least.’
‘That’s a shame...’ Sarah looked at her thoughtfully. She’d been told the governess’s story and it was part of the reason she’d offered her the ride in her chaise. ‘How much more do you need to save?’
‘I suppose a hundred pounds might be enough...’ Hester sighed. ‘If we both save hard this year, we may just manage it, though I contribute very little and it may take much longer.’
She was not a young woman. Sarah felt sympathy for her, because time was passing her by and her youth was fading. It was so ironic that Hester should be longing for marriage, but did not have enough money while she, Sarah Hardcastle, was doing her best to avoid being married because she’d had rather too much of it.
Was her plan too outrageous to have a chance of success? She’d thought about it all the previous night and her stomach was tying itself in knots. No doubt Hester would think she’d run mad.
‘Supposing I offered you two hundred pounds and gave you two of my best dresses in return for your reference from Lady Mary and the gowns you have in your trunk? Would you change places with me? I mean, let me take your place as the governess at Cavendish Park—and you go home to marry your fiancé?’
There, she’d said it out loud. Did it sound as mad as she imagined?
Hester was staring at her in bewilderment. ‘What did you say, miss? I don’t think I heard right.’
‘I offered you two hundred pounds to let me have some of your clothes and the reference Lady Mary gave you. You can do what you wish with the money.’
‘You want to be a governess? Why?’ Hester was stunned. ‘You’re a rich young woman, Miss Hardcastle. Why would you wish to be a governess?’
‘I need to disappear for a while and it seems an ideal situation to me. Your employer has never seen you. The girl is almost seventeen so will be easy to manage and the boy is going to college in six months—so how could I go wrong? My tutors considered me a bright pupil. I imagine I can teach the boy mathematics and geography and the girl music, literature, French, Latin, drawing and dancing. What more does she need to know?’
‘Nothing, I shouldn’t think,’ Hester said, but looked anxious. ‘I don’t know what to say, miss—it doesn’t seem right. We should be deceiving my employer...’
‘But if he didn’t even bother to interview you he can’t be that bothered about his grandchildren. All he wants is to keep them out of his hair—and I can do that as easily as you.’
‘Perhaps better, miss. You’ve a way with you. People pay attention when Miss Hardcastle speaks.’
‘That is because my father left me a fortune invested in mills and mines and I’ve run them myself since he died when I was just nineteen.’
‘How old are you, miss—if you don’t mind my asking?’
‘I’m five and twenty,’ Sarah said and sighed. ‘My aunt and uncle have been trying to marry me off for months. They say I need a man to help me and they’re afraid I shall die an old maid.’
‘Do they bully you, miss?’
‘No, I shall not lie. Aunt Jenny is kind and my uncle is well meaning, but I have no intention of marrying simply to please them. I came away because my uncle would not let the subject drop.’
‘What will happen to your mills if you’re not there, miss?’
‘I have managers and a man of business I trust. I shall keep in touch with him by letter—and it will just be for a short time, until I’ve made up my mind about something. After that I’ll give notice and your pupils will have a new governess. Surely my influence cannot harm them in that time?’ Sarah leaned forward. ‘Will you think about it today? This evening when we stop at the inn you can tell me. If your answer is yes, we’ll change clothes. In the morning I’ll send you on in my chaise to Chester—and I’ll go by post-chaise to Cavendish Park.’
‘I don’t know what to say...’ Hester looked worried, clearly torn between taking this wonderful chance and fulfilling her duty. ‘It’s such an opportunity for me. It would mean the world to my Jim to have his inn this year instead of waiting.’
‘Well, the choice is yours. I shan’t twist your arm. If you say no, I’ll simply find another way to disappear for a while.’
Hester nodded, settling back against the squabs with a sigh. She was obviously tempted and Sarah crossed her fingers under the folds of her elegant travelling gown. Being a governess would be a safe environment for a wealthy heiress to hide in until she could shake off the feeling of being persecuted for her money.
Why had her father had to die in that accident at the mill? Tobias Hardcastle had always been a hands-on employer, not above taking off his frock coat and rolling up his sleeves. He’d started out with fifty pounds left to him by his grandfather and built up his huge business using his brains and his ability to work twenty hours out of every twenty-four for years.
Before she died, Sarah’s mother had complained bitterly that she wasn’t sure when he’d had time to give her a child. It wasn’t true, of course, for he came home for meals and occasionally had Sunday off, but he’d certainly put in long hours to ensure that his business empire was solid. Sarah couldn’t claim to do the same, but she had a knack of choosing her employees well and of inspiring loyalty. She’d taken up the challenge at the start because it was there and she did not wish to hand over her father’s empire to someone who might abuse it. However, she had begun to grow a little tired of the constant rounds of meetings and bookkeeping that were an ever-present part of her life. It was time to sit back a little, for her life was slipping away and some might already consider her as being past the age of making a good marriage. Her managers would make sure the mills continued to prosper during her absence and also the two copper mines she owned in Cornwall. It was on her return from her biannual visit to the mines that she’d stopped off to visit her own governess and there met Miss Hester Goodrum.
Something about the young woman had appealed to Sarah immediately. Had Hester been a woman who wanted a lifetime career she would have offered her a position as her companion, but Hester had confided her hopes for marriage and that had set Sarah’s quick mind working.
It was a little deceitful to pretend to be someone she wasn’t, of course, but she wasn’t harming anyone. She wouldn’t steal the silver or teach the children to swear and drink gin. A smile touched her lips, for the idea of being the children’s mentor was pleasant. Sarah had worked hard since her father’s death, giving little thought to pleasure of any kind. She’d been asked to dinners and evening affairs at the homes of her father’s friends, but since she knew that the ones with wives wanted to buy her mills and the widowers wanted to marry her to get them cheaply, she normally found such evenings tedious.
Even at school she’d been aware that she wasn’t really one of the gentry. She was the daughter of a rich man who’d bought the right to live in a big house and own land, but she wasn’t one of the blue bloods. The other girls were friendly to a degree, but she’d felt the barrier between them and knew that they laughed at her northern accent, which had all but disappeared now. Sometimes, if she was upset, it returned, but her teachers had earned their money. Mr Hardcastle had wanted his daughter to be a lady and to all intents and purposes she was—except that she wasn’t fully accepted into their society. They welcomed her on the boards of their charities and they were even friendlier towards her money, which they grabbed as soon as it was offered, but she was seldom invited to an intimate affair at their homes. Occasionally she would be invited to a large dance because of her influence, but she wasn’t the kind of woman that gentlemen thought of marrying.
Well, that wasn’t quite true, either, Sarah mused, glancing out of the window. She did have one rather persistent suitor. Sir Roger Grey had asked her to marry him three times now and he didn’t like being refused. Sarah was aware that he was in financial difficulty, though he’d managed to hide that fact from her uncle and most of his acquaintance. Sarah had asked one of her agents to make enquiries and his report was disturbing. Sir Roger gave the appearance of being wealthy and respectable, but in reality was a rake and a gambler, and the last man she would ever wed. However, he was difficult to shake off, for he seemed to have taken it into his head that she would come round to the idea if he continued to press her. Unfortunately, her uncle was completely taken in and believed him to be a man of his word.
It was Sir Roger’s tactics at the charity ball in Newcastle that had made her decide to leave for Cornwall a month earlier than usual. He’d tried to kiss her and he’d fumbled at her breasts. She’d had to fight him off and had scratched his cheek in her efforts.
‘You little hellcat.’ He’d put a hand to his cheek in shock. ‘You will be sorry for that, Sarah. I’ll teach you to respect your betters.’
‘I do not consider you my superior, sir,’ she’d retorted. ‘I have no intention of being seduced. If you thought to compromise me and force me into marriage, you are far off the mark. I would rather have fingers pointed at me in the street than marry you.’
That was perfectly true, for she would rather die than marry a man like him, but it was also true that she didn’t wish to lose her good name. Nor would she care to be whispered about or pointed out as an object of shame.
‘If you would marry Sam Goodjohn, or Harry Barton, you’d be safe from rogues like that,’ her uncle had told her when she’d told him what had happened. ‘They’re good men and run mills of their own so you could stay home and be a wife and mother as you ought. It’s time you married and thought about a family, Sarah—unless you want to die an old maid.’
‘I know you want to protect me, Uncle William,’ Sarah replied. ‘But I should hate to be married simply for the sake of my fortune. When I find a man I love who loves me, I’ll get married.’
‘Love,’ her uncle scoffed at the idea. ‘When did love ever get you anywhere? You need a man to protect you and look after your business, young woman. Don’t leave it too late or you may find that even money won’t get you the kind of man you need.’
Her uncle’s scolding had jerked her from her complacency. It was true that time was slipping by and she was no longer a young girl. If she wanted a family she must marry—and Sarah had begun to realise what
she might miss if she did not.
Was she so ill-favoured that she needed money to buy her a husband? Sarah knew she wasn’t beautiful by any means. Her hair was dark brown, and her nose was straight. Her mouth was bigger than she liked and she wished she had thin lips like Hester. Miss Goodrum was prettier than she was, but Sarah didn’t feel ugly. When she dressed in her best she was attractive enough and people said she had a nice smile.
Was it impossible that she would find love?
She felt she might have more chance of it if she were not her father’s heir. When men looked at her they saw the rich Miss Hardcastle and they wanted what she could give them. The hard-headed ones wanted to build up her business and get richer; the spendthrifts wanted a ticket to the easy life.
Sarah wanted... A little sigh escaped her. She wanted a man who would make her laugh. A man who appreciated music, poetry and beautiful gardens...someone who would love her for who she was, not for her money.
Was she asking too much? Perhaps her uncle was right. It might be sensible to accept one of her suitors and have the lawyers draw up a contract that gave her the right to retain control of her business and protect her fortune.
It was the simple way out of her predicament. A business arrangement that would protect her from fortune hunters and unscrupulous businessmen who wanted the vast wealth her father had bequeathed her. Until recently, Sarah would have thought it a perfectly sensible idea, but for some reason she had begun to feel a slight dissatisfaction with her life as it presently was. She had not thought of marriage whilst her father lived and in the first years after his death she’d been too wrapped up in her work to consider it. Of late she’d begun to notice children playing in the parks and sweethearts walking together in the sunshine. If she did not marry, she would miss so much.
Was she lonely? Certainly not! She had friends and loyal employees and was too busy to be lonely.
Yet surely there was another way to live? She must have time to consider, to decide what she wanted of life. What Sarah needed was a place to escape, to hide and to be someone else for a while....
‘Yes, I’ll do it, miss. Like you said, it can’t hurt anyone—and Jim will be so happy to have me home....’
Sarah blinked, dragging her thoughts back to the present. For a moment she couldn’t believe that Hester had agreed, then, as she saw the other woman was in earnest, she smiled.
‘Thank you so much, Hester,’ she said and leaned forwards to touch her hand. ‘You won’t regret it. I shan’t do anything that could harm your good name, I promise you.’
‘Lord, miss, as if you would.’ Hester laughed, looking younger as her eyes lit with excitement. ‘I can’t thank you enough for giving me this chance—and I hope you’ll get on with your charges. Lady Mary arranged it for me. She said they’re a little bit difficult, but I’m sure you’ll be fine.’
‘Yes, I’m certain I shall,’ Sarah agreed and laughed. ‘How hard can it be to look after a young lady and a boy of thirteen?’
Chapter Two (#ufeff8085-7298-5e54-93e5-cf6e726fbba8)
‘Why do we have to have a mentor as well as a governess? I thought you said it would be all right when we got rid of the last two? You said Grandfather would give up sending us tutors and take us to live with him in London.’
‘I said he would take me. It’s time I had my come out,’ Francesca Scunthorpe said and made a face at her brother. She was a pretty girl with soft hair and bright eyes, and a mouth that was wide and sensuous. Her yellow-silk gown was attractive, but not as fashionable as she would like, and made for her by a local seamstress. ‘You will be going to Cambridge after Christmas. It looks as if I’ll be stuck here on my own with some stupid governess.’
‘I don’t mind going to college,’ John said and threw a paper dart at her across the schoolroom. He was a sturdy boy, attractive with dark hair and eyes and a stubborn chin. His tutor had given him a list of Latin verbs to learn to keep him busy until the new mentor arrived, but John was bored with lists. His tutor had given him new lists every day for the past eighteen months, but he hadn’t explained anything. His lessons consisted of setting a new exercise and then tests to see what he’d learned. ‘It would be better than staying here on our own.’
‘It was all right at first,’ Francesca said. ‘When we were younger we had Miss Graham and Mr Browne. I liked her and she taught me lots of interesting things, but she left and the last governess was useless. She couldn’t play the pianoforte or the harp and she chose all the wrong books.’
‘And she didn’t like frogs in her bed,’ John said, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. ‘I’ve never heard anyone scream as much as she did when she saw that grass snake.’
‘She thought it was poisonous.’ Francesca looked scornful. ‘She didn’t know it was a grass snake and harmless.’
‘Anyone knows the difference between a viper and a grass snake,’ John said and looked up at his sister. ‘What are we going to do, Fran? I’m so bored—aren’t you?’
‘Yes, some of the time,’ Fran agreed. ‘I like to read poetry, but I know you’d rather play games or go fishing.’
‘Can we go fishing today? He will probably stop us having fun when he gets here—and your governess will say it isn’t a fit occupation for a lady.’
‘We’ll outwit them somehow,’ Fran promised. She picked up a volume of poetry she’d been reading earlier, then threw it down with a sigh of discontent. ‘They are both supposed to arrive later today, though not together. We’ll go fishing this morning and come back when we feel like it.’
‘Grandfather’s letter said we had to be on our best behaviour—to be waiting in the parlour when they arrive.’
‘Well, he should have come down himself and stayed for a few days.’
‘He said it was getting a bit much for him. Do you think he’s ill?’
‘I don’t know.’ Fran’s brow creased because she worried about her grandfather. The marquess was all they had—the only one who bothered about them anyway. Her father had gone off abroad somewhere when his money ran out. His house and estate had been put up for sale and the marquess had brought them here. At first he’d spent time with them, but of late he hadn’t bothered to come down other than at Christmas, though he always sent birthday gifts. ‘I hope he isn’t, because I don’t know what would happen to us if he died. We haven’t any money of our own, John. Everything comes from Grandfather. If I get my Season, I’ll marry a rich lord and then we’ll have money. I’ll look after you then. You won’t have to work for a living.’
‘Do you think Grandfather will leave us anything?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t want to think about that...’ Fran’s throat caught at the idea that they might be forced to leave this house. She’d loved it from the moment they came here and didn’t want to live in a horrible little cottage like some of the children on the estate. ‘Come on, I refuse to be miserable on a lovely morning like this. Let’s get some stuff from the kitchen and go down to the stream.’
‘Yes.’ John grinned at her. ‘At least we’ve got each other. I’ll put frogs in her bed and you can think of something to do to this lord whatever-his-name-is...’
‘Lord Rupert Myers,’ Fran said. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll think of some way to get rid of them if we hate them. Let’s go fishing. It will serve them right if there’s no one to greet them when they get here.’
* * *
Sarah got down from the chaise and looked at the house. Cavendish Park was a pleasant country house, much the biggest one she’d ever visited, larger and more impressive than her father’s on the outskirts of Newcastle. She’d visited a few country houses as the guest of her school friends, but never one quite like this. It was so beautiful that for a moment all she wanted to do was to stand and stare at the mellow golden walls and long windows that sparkled like diamonds in the sunshine.
‘If you’d like to come into the house, Miss Goodrum.’
Sarah came to herself with a start. The housekeeper must have been speaking to her for a few minutes, but she’d been lost in thought—and it was difficult remembering that she was no longer the wealthy heiress, Miss Hardcastle. She’d packed that particular persona into her trunks and sent them back to her home with a letter for her uncle explaining that she was taking a little holiday and they were not to worry. All she had with her was a small trunk containing the clothes she’d purchased from Hester.
She was wearing Hester’s best gown, because she’d been assured it would be expected for her first arrival. It was pearl-grey with a slender skirt and tight bodice, and it had a white lace collar. Sarah had fastened a small silver brooch at the neck to cheer it up a little. Hester’s other gowns were not as good and certainly not what Sarah was accustomed to, but she would get used to them—and it was only for a few weeks or so.
‘Yes, thank you, Mrs Brancaster. I was just thinking what a lovely house it is. You must enjoy living here?’
‘It’s a nice enough house, Miss Goodrum, but...’ The housekeeper hesitated and then pursed her thin mouth. ‘Things are not quite what they ought to be. His lordship doesn’t come down often enough and the children are left to do much as they please. The house needs a master or a mistress, if you ask me—preferably both.’
‘Yes, I expect it does. A big place like this takes some running and it shouldn’t be left to the servants.’
Unaware of the odd glance her remark had brought from Mrs Brancaster, Sarah walked into the house by way of the kitchen entrance. Since she made a habit of visiting her kitchens regularly at home this did not make her uncomfortable. She might be wealthy and she’d been educated as a lady, but Sarah knew she was a long way from being one. You could take the girl out of Newcastle, but you couldn’t take Newcastle out of the girl; it had been one of her father’s favourite sayings and made her smile. She’d been so close to her father, his right-hand man, and she missed him so very much.
She supposed she was looking for someone she could admire and respect as she had Tobias Hardcastle. If such a man were to present himself, she would not hesitate to hand over her person and the day-to-day running of her business to him—but as yet she’d never met anyone who came close to filling his shoes.
‘I’ll take you straight up to your room,’ the housekeeper was saying. ‘You can settle in and then
come down to the kitchen for a nice cup of tea. Miss Francesca and Master John were supposed to be here to meet you, but they slipped off early this morning. I suspect they went fishing in defiance of the marquess’s instructions that they should sit in the parlour and wait for you and their mentor.’
‘Their mentor? I thought the Marquess of Merrivale was their grandfather and guardian?’
‘So he is, Miss Goodrum. Mr John is to have a tutor and he is to be their mentor. As I understand it, he’s to be in charge here and we shall all report to him.’
It was the first Sarah had heard of this arrangement and she wondered if Hester had known. This new man might enquire more closely into her background than she’d imagined and she was glad she’d asked for the reference as well as Hester’s clothes.
‘I see. Do you know this...mentor’s name?’
‘I wasn’t listening properly when Mr Burrows told me,’ the housekeeper admitted. ‘I’d just discovered that the pair of scamps had disappeared again and my mind wasn’t on it, but I’ll find out when he arrives and let you know.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Brancaster.’ Sarah was thoughtful. ‘Do you think I could leave the tea for an hour or so? I should like to take a walk about the grounds before I unpack—get my bearings.’
‘Well...’ Mrs Brancaster looked a bit put out. ‘I’m sure it’s up to you, miss. I thought you might want to see the schoolroom?’
‘When I return you can give me directions or I’ll ask one of the footmen. I don’t want to take up too much of your time, because I know you have so much to do in a house like this—and with two new visitors it must have turned your routine upside down.’
‘It has...’ Mrs Brancaster nodded. ‘Well, off you go then. Your trunk will be taken up and you can find your own way here when you’re ready, I dare say.’
‘Oh, I’m sure I shall. I’m really quite capable, you know.’
Sarah left the housekeeper staring after her. She knew that she had perhaps risked offending her new colleague, but she’d felt as if she must escape before she did something stupid. All at once the enormity of what she’d done—and what she was attempting to do—had hit her square in the face. In her comfortable chaise with all her familiar things about her it had seemed a clever idea. She’d imagined the children were left much to themselves with just their grandfather’s servants—but who was this new mentor and what would he be like?
If he was just another superior servant, she might manage to get away with her masquerade by keeping her own counsel. If, however, he’d been placed in charge of the children’s future by the marquess, he might want to know too much about her. Sarah couldn’t afford for him to dig too deeply into her background. Should he discover she was lying, he might imagine her to be a person of low integrity and dubious virtue.
Her stomach was fluttering with nerves as she strolled through the kitchen garden, noticing how well everything was kept. If she’d expected to find an air of neglect here, she was far off the mark. What if this mentor had met Hester Goodrum in the past?
Oh, this whole thing was madness! She should go back to the house, ask for directions to the nearest post house and leave. What on earth had made her think she was capable of carrying out a masquerade like this? She hadn’t been thinking clearly, of course. Sarah wanted time out of her life, time to come to terms with what she needed from the future: should she marry for the sake of companionship or should she wait until she fell in love?
A smile touched her mouth. There was no guarantee that the man she chose would reciprocate her feelings. Sarah knew that she wasn’t the prettiest girl in the world and if she found someone she wanted, he would probably not be interested in her.
She must not rush her decision. Looking about her as she walked, Sarah fell in love with the beautiful rose gardens, the herbaceous borders and the sweeping lawns. Some of these trees must have been here for centuries. Hearing the sound of laughter coming from what appeared to be a small wilderness, she turned instinctively towards it and then stopped as she saw a young woman of perhaps sixteen years and a boy some years younger. They were sprawled out on the grass, watching as a fish cooked slowly over a smoking fire.
The camaraderie between them and the sound of their laughter caught at Sarah’s throat, making her aware of how much she missed in not having a family. They were so beautiful, so wrapped up in themselves and their amusement that she hesitated, not wanting to intrude. If she introduced herself now they might resent her intrusion into their private time and she would start off on the wrong foot. No, it would be better to wait and meet them later when they had washed the dirt from their hands and faces. Yet how she longed to be a part of that scene.
Turning away, Sarah felt the ache inside her. She had been thinking it best if she made some excuse and went away, leaving the new mentor to arrange a new governess for his charges, but now she’d changed her mind again. Something inside her called out to the young people she’d discovered having fun and she wanted to stay. She had no wish to harm them and she would keep her distance from their mentor, be friendly but reserved, as a proper governess should be.
Lifting her head, she took her courage in her hands. Her father’s lawyers had advised her to sell her father’s mills to the highest bidder and not to think of trying to run them herself. She hadn’t listened to their prophecies of doom and gloom, and, though she’d come up against prejudice and men who resented a woman in their midst, she’d overcome their opposition and her business was thriving. She wouldn’t turn and run at the first obstacle now.
It was time to have that cup of tea with Mrs Brancaster. Sarah wouldn’t lie more than she had to, to sustain her masquerade as a governess, but she wasn’t going to walk away from those delightful children, either.
* * *
Rupert was getting down from his curricle when he saw the woman walking back from the gardens. The sun was shining on her head, picking out the red tints in her dark hair and giving her a kind of halo. From her dress he guessed her to be the new governess and surmised that she’d been for a little walk to acquaint herself with her surroundings. He knew very little about her, except that she had been recommended by Lady Mary Winters.
Well acquainted with Cavendish Park from visits to his uncle as a young man, Rupert had no desire to follow her example. He’d known his uncle’s grandchildren when they were all younger, but it was years since he’d seen them. He wondered whether they were waiting dutifully in the parlour, as they’d been bidden, or, as he would have done in their place, escaped for a last day of freedom.
‘Your lordship,’ Burrows said, his face wreathed in smiles as he came out to greet him. ‘It is a pleasure to see you, sir. I’ve been informed that you intend to stay with us for a few months.’
‘Yes, until John goes to Cambridge,’ Rupert replied. ‘It’s Burrows, isn’t it?’
‘Fancy you remembering that, sir.’ The butler looked gratified. ‘Most of the staff are still here, though some of the maids and footmen are new.’
‘Is Mrs Brancaster still with you?’
‘Yes, sir. She’ll be up in a minute...ah, here she is now. I dare say she was busy...’
‘Are Francesca and John in the house?’
‘They went off early this morning, sir. Shall I send someone to look for them? One of the gardeners thought they’d gone fishing.’
‘Perfect day for it. Wouldn’t have minded a spot of fishing myself this morning. No, don’t make them feel guilty. We’ll soon have a routine established once I’ve had time to sort things out. I think I should like some cold ale if you have any and a bite to eat—didn’t stop for nuncheon.’
‘Lord Myers—’ Mrs Brancaster looked stunned as she came up to him ‘—how are you, sir? I didn’t realise it was you coming down today. I’ve prepared the wrong room. I thought...’ Her cheeks turned pink. ‘Forgive me, I’ll have your own room ready in half an hour.’
‘Plenty of time,’ Rupert assured her, amused by her obvious embarrassment. ‘I should like to meet Miss Goodrum. I believe I saw her return to the house a moment ago?’
‘Yes, sir. She went for a little walk to get used to her surroundings. We were just about to have a cup of tea when I was told you’d arrived and it set me all of a fluster.’
‘No need to stand on ceremony. I’m the same as I was when I came here as a lad, Mrs Brancaster.’
‘No, that you’re not, sir. We all heard how you were decorated for bravery for what you did over there in France—and you were wounded in the leg.’
‘Which is so much better I hardly know it happened. It’s only when the weather turns cold that I feel it.’ Rupert’s smile dimmed. He did not like to hear himself praised for something he felt best placed in the past where it belonged.
‘I’ll tell Miss Goodrum to wait on you in the front parlour immediately, sir.’
‘Please request her to visit me there when she has had time to take her refreshments. I should wish to be on good terms with the young woman. Tell me, Mrs Brancaster, what are your first impressions?’
‘Of the new governess?’ Mrs Brancaster frowned. ‘I’ve only just met her, sir, but...she seems very calm and sure of herself.’
‘Do I detect a note of disapproval?’
‘Oh, no, sir, nothing like that I assure you.’ The housekeeper was thoughtful. ‘It’s just...she isn’t quite like any of the others we’ve had. They usually have a look about them...sort of resigned and disappointed...but she’s not like that at all.’
Rupert quirked an eyebrow, amused. ‘I see. An unusual governess. How interesting. I hope she is intelligent enough to know that you cannot keep a girl of Francesca’s age always in the schoolroom. However, we shall see.’
‘You mustn’t take against her for anything I’ve said, sir. I’ve only just met her and I’m sure she’s perfectly respectable.’
‘Oh, I’m certain of it. Lady Mary would not otherwise have employed her. She comes with impeccable references. I am quite looking forward to meeting her.’
‘I’ll send her along in about ten minutes—and your refreshments will follow as soon as they’re ready. I’ll have your room prepared immediately.’
‘Thank you. You always did spoil me, Mrs Brancaster. I can see I’ve been missing a treat by not coming down more often.’
Mrs Brancaster positively glowed and scurried away to set everything in motion. Rupert smiled to himself as he went into the house. Nothing much had changed here. It still smelled of roses and lavender; the furniture was mostly good oak and polished to within an inch of its life, though in the main salon he recalled seeing some mahogany Chippendale pieces.
It was what it had always been, a pleasant country house, comfortable rather than elegant, and he could feel its welcome as he made his way to the parlour. Vases of flowers stood everywhere and the smell of roses was even stronger in the parlour. Merrivale had good servants and it was a pity the marquess didn’t spend more time here, but Rupert supposed the memories were too strong for him. He’d grieved for his wife for years and the loss of his daughter had nearly done him in, bringing on a heart attack that had left him with a weakness. Rupert suspected that the old man found it too upsetting to visit often for reasons of his own, but it hadn’t been wise to let the children run wild. Francesca in particular would need to be schooled in the manners she needed for society and he could only hope that he would find some support in the new governess—because he was more used to dealing with ladies of a different kind.
Rupert laughed softly in his throat. His latest mistress had been most disappointed to hear that he was leaving town and did not expect to return for months.
‘What am I to do without you?’ she’d asked, as she ran her long nails down his naked back. ‘Do you expect me to languish here alone?’
‘I expect you to take a new protector within a week,’ Rupert told her with a mocking smile. ‘We both know this was merely a convenient arrangement for us both, my dear Annais. You will find yourself adequately compensated by my parting gift, so do not pretend to feel more than you do.’
Her nails had scored his back, her eyes glinting with temper. Rupert had known she was angry at being given her freedom to find a new lover, but the diamonds he’d gifted her should soon dry her tears and he was aware that she’d been casting glances at Lord Rowley for a while now. He would bet that the gentleman found himself in her bed within the week. His own feelings were not touched. It was a long time since he’d found more than a fleeting pleasure in the arms of a woman—since Madeline had broken his heart before he went off to fight for his king and country.
A picture of Madeline’s beautiful face and long blonde curls passed through his mind and was ruthlessly dismissed. When she’d married the old Duke of Marley for money, he’d put her out of his heart and mind. At first he’d been angry, bitter, broken by her scorn and her betrayal, but then he’d found something more worthwhile—and that was the camaraderie of his friends. It was only when he’d lost them that his heart had become encased in ice.
His one-time friends believed that he had done something careless that had led to the deaths of several of their comrades. Rupert knew that he was innocent of their charges, but he refused to explain or to tell them the truth about what had happened that night. If they could see only what was in front of their noses, then they were not worth bothering over—they were certainly not his friends and not the men he’d thought them to be. Where was the trust that should have existed between them? Where was the respect he believed he was entitled to expect? Since they had chosen to believe evil of him he would not defend himself. Let them think what they chose. He’d shut out the memory of their friendship, becoming in truth the man society believed him: a hardened rake and a ruthless card player.
‘You wished to see me, Lord Myers?’
The voice was soft, but there was just the trace of an accent. Rupert turned to look at the young woman who had entered the parlour as he stood gazing out at the park. Although no beauty, she was of medium height, slim, attractive with dark hair that he knew carried tints of red in the sunlight. Her eyes were a bluish-green and her mouth pleasantly full. She carried herself well and there was a hint of pride in her face—also something else?
Did she seem wary? A little uneasy, perhaps?
‘You are Miss Hester Goodrum?’
He thought there was a slight hesitation before she inclined her head. ‘I am the new governess, sir.’
‘Miss Goodrum?’
‘Yes.’ This time her voice was firm and without hesitation. ‘I believe you are to be the children’s mentor?’
‘My uncle has requested me to be John’s mentor until he goes to his college. I am also here to see that Francesca is ready to enter society next Season. She will be seventeen then and I believe arrangements will be made for her to stay with a suitable lady next spring. Until then you are here to keep her from getting into mischief.’
‘I dare say I can find ways to do that, sir. Once I have established the level she has reached in her studies, we can plan a new schedule.’
‘I hardly think you can expect to keep a young woman like Francesca in the schoolroom all day, Miss Goodrum.’
‘I would not be foolish enough to try,’ she replied, her head up, eyes meeting his. All sign of the hesitation had gone now. ‘Perhaps some poetry, music and dancing lessons would not go amiss. I imagine she already has some knowledge of French, Latin and drawing. We can find some way of making the lessons more interesting, I dare say. John may need more tuition, but I think that will be your province, Lord Myers. I am prepared to give him certain lessons if you wish, of course. I could take history and literature and mathematics. However, geography and the sciences were never my strong point, though I am willing to attempt them should you wish?’
‘I am amazed you are able to offer such a wide curriculum. I am sure my uncle did not tell me you were so accomplished.’
Did he detect a hint of colour in her cheeks—a lessening of her confidence? Why? He’d just paid her a compliment, yet he seemed to have made her uneasy. For a fleeting moment she looked uncertain, but then her head came up and she bestowed a cool smile on him.
‘I dare say you are able to take the boy’s education to a higher degree than I could, my lord. However, I am willing to help should I be required.’
Rupert’s instincts were alerted. She certainly was an unusual governess. Her manner was far from that one might expect of a woman in her late twenties who had little expectation of life other than to work for a succession of employers until she retired. This young woman did not look a day over four and twenty and she had a confident manner beyond her years, which was strangely at odds with her calling. Something about her did not ring true.
‘I understand you have been employed by Lady Mary Winters for some years?’
‘Yes, sir. I was her daughter June’s governess until recently. Miss June has gone to Bath for a visit with her mother and aunt. She no longer requires a governess, which meant that I was free to take this position.’ He noticed that her eyes seemed to be fixed on a spot beyond his left shoulder.
‘Fortunately so was I.’ Rupert smiled. ‘We must try to keep these young rascals in order. They have been allowed to run free, I fear, and their last tutor and governess left at rather short notice.’
‘I was told they might be a little difficult at times?’
‘I do hope you are not frightened of frogs? John apparently has a habit of putting them in the governess’s bed.’
‘Ah, I see.’ She smiled. Rupert caught his breath. There was something very engaging about this young woman, a way she had of holding her head and of sometimes looking straight at you. ‘Thank you for the warning. I do not dislike the creatures, but would not wish to find one in my bed. I shall make sure to inspect it each night before getting in.’
‘If you find something unpleasant, let me know. I’ll deal with the culprit.’
‘Oh, I dare say I can manage,’ she said. ‘My cousin was forever playing such tricks when we were both children. Uncle William was glad to pack him off to E...to school.’ A hint of pink touched her cheeks. She drew breath, lifted her head and met his curious gaze. ‘Do you wish me to prepare a curriculum for you to inspect, sir?’
‘Good grief, no. I shall leave Francesa’s lessons to you. However, I think we should arrange for her to have dancing lessons—perhaps someone will know of a local man who could come in once or twice a week.’
‘I would be happy to play the pianoforte. If there is no master to be found, you might supply the lack. I can teach her the steps if you would practise with her.’
‘Is there no end to your talents?’
‘I...have an interest in music and dancing, also deportment. I think I may be able to teach Francesca how to enter a drawing room in society and how to conduct herself, to engage others in conversation...enough so that she does not feel strange when she meets her chaperon next spring.’
‘Indeed? I would not have thought you would have had much experience in the drawing rooms of society hostesses?’
Rupert saw her colour deepen and knew he’d scored a hit. It was perhaps a little unfair of him to say such a thing to her, but he had not been able to resist it. This confident young woman had aroused his curiosity. He was quite certain that she was not what she was pretending to be. Governesses did not meet the eyes of their employer so boldly nor did they have much experience of society.
‘I have acted as companion to a lady of quality,’ she replied, her head up. ‘Besides, one is accustomed to being with ladies and young women of...breeding.’
‘Tell me, Miss Goodrum—where were you educated?’
‘I...my father employed a governess for me and I went to Miss Hale’s school in Newcastle for young
ladies for a period of two years. It was a highly respectable academy, I assure you.’
‘What manner of man is your father?’
Her body stiffened. ‘My references are all in order, sir. I have them to hand if you wish to see them.’
‘I am not your employer.’ Rupert’s gaze moved over her. ‘It was just idle curiosity. You are not obliged to answer me.’
‘My father ran a mine, sir. We were respectable and he was able to give me benefits that not all girls of my class receive. He died a few years ago and...I was obliged to earn my living.’
‘The manager of a mine and from the North of England, I think?’ Rupert nodded, pleased because he’d detected the slight inflection in her voice, especially when she was disturbed. ‘You are an unusual governess, Miss Goodrum. I believe we shall rub along well enough—providing that I do not discover you have lied to your employer and to me.’
Her head came up at that and her eyes flashed with temper. Rupert was tempted to laugh. He’d thought her merely attractive at the start, but he was beginning to see that there was much more to Miss Hester Goodrum than met the eye. He would swear that there was fire banked just beneath the surface.
‘Was there anything else, sir?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Rupert replied with a smile. ‘I believe we’ve only just begun, Miss Goodrum. However, we shall leave it for the moment. You will do me the honour of dining with me this evening, I hope?’
For a moment she hesitated, then she gave him a straight look that took the wind out of his sails. ‘As
I am sure you know, that would not be appropriate, Lord Myers. A governess may be asked to dine with the family on occasion, but only when the mistress of the
house is present—and certainly not alone with a gentleman.’
‘How disappointing. Now you are being a proper governess. I had hoped we might get to know each other better. Besides, Francesca and John will be dining with me. Did you really imagine I was asking you to dine intimately, Miss Goodrum? I assure you I would only do that if I had seduction in mind.’
Now the colour was high in her cheeks. She took a moment to control herself, as if afraid of speaking too quickly and betraying herself into unwise words.
‘I think you like to mock, sir. I am certain you had no such thing in mind. Why should you?’ She hesitated, then, ‘If Francesca is to dine with you, perhaps I should also be present. You may be here as John’s mentor, but you are a single gentleman and Francesca is an impressionable young girl. I think I must act as her chaperon.’
‘How wise of you to change your mind,’ he murmured softly, adding, as she left, in a voice she could not catch, ‘And who, I wonder, will chaperon you, Miss Goodrum?’
Chapter Three (#ufeff8085-7298-5e54-93e5-cf6e726fbba8)
Sarah went straight up to her room. Mrs Brancaster had asked her to return to her sitting room after the interview, but she needed a little time alone to calm her nerves. When she’d suggested that she change places with Hester Goodrum she had not dreamed she would have to run the gauntlet of those steel-grey eyes and that razor-sharp mind. Lord Myers was a man of the world and very intelligent. As herself, Sarah would have felt his equal, well able to parry any darts he fired at her, but she was at a disadvantage because she was here under false pretences. Lord Myers had warned her that he would not take kindly to lies on her part and she could imagine what he would think and say if he discovered the truth.
Cold chills ran down her spine. What on earth would she do if she were exposed as an impostor? It would be so very embarrassing and could ruin her reputation. For a moment she was tempted to turn tail and run away now before she was dragged into something beyond her control, but pride would not let her.
No, she was doing nothing wrong...not terribly wrong anyway. Having embarked on her masquerade, she could at least stay to greet the children. If the challenge became too much for her she could always hand in her notice and leave and no one would be any the wiser. Besides, it was unlikely that anyone she knew would visit Cavendish Park and, providing she gave good service, her employer would have no cause for complaint.
Having calmed her fears, Sarah changed into a fresh gown. It was clean, neat and clearly the kind of plain no-nonsense dress that a governess would be expected to wear. She pulled at the bodice because it was a little tight across her breasts. Although of similar heights, she and Hester were of a different build, Sarah being rather more curvy.
However, the dress fitted well enough and perhaps she would have time to let out the seams a little. Had she been impersonating a maid there would have been a uniform but governesses were expected to provide their own gowns.
Sarah wondered how much Hester had been promised as her wage. It was one of the many things she hadn’t had time to discuss and now regretted. Money was not a problem for the moment, because she still had several guineas in her purse and would need very little while she stayed here. She might miss her clothes and favourite pieces of jewellery, but had decided to have her trunks stored until further notice. Had the housekeeper decided to investigate her closet, it would not have done to have a dozen silk dresses hanging there. Mrs Brancaster would have immediately thought the worst, because there was only one way a governess could come by such gowns.
Hester Goodrum had given her the reference from Lady Mary, also the schedule she’d intended to set for Francesca and John. A swift perusal had left Sarah feeling that it was sadly lacking in imagination and she made a few notes in the margins of lessons she thought a young woman might enjoy.
Making her way downstairs to the kitchens, she heard voices and, since her name was mentioned, hesitated outside the door.
‘What do you think of her, then?’ a woman’s voice asked. ‘Will she last longer than a month, do you think?’
‘Well, Cook, all I can tell you is that she seems very sure of herself—and that’s what I told his lordship. She’s not like any of the others so she might just succeed where they failed.’
‘I hope as you’re right, Mrs Brancaster. Those young devils were in here earlier and they took all the cake I’d baked yesterday and I had to start all over again.’
‘Well, let’s hope she can keep them in order—’ Mrs Brancaster broke off as Sarah opened the door and walked in. ‘Ah, there you are, Miss Goodrum. We were just talking about you, wondering whether you would settle here.’
‘It is a lovely house and the grounds are magnificent,’ Sarah said. ‘Have Miss Francesca and Master John returned yet?’
‘I believe they went upstairs just a few moments ago. His lordship said we’re to serve tea at the normal time—and he asked that you should join them in the drawing room. Says he’s going to introduce you to your pupils.’
‘Oh...’ Sarah’s heart hammered in her breast. ‘I thought I was to have tea with you, but if I’ve been summoned... Where is the drawing room, please?’
‘You recall the parlour? Well, the drawing room is at the far end of the corridor and looks out over the park. Shall I send one of the maids with you?’
‘No, I dare say I can find my own way.’
‘Well, Miss Goodrum, I’m pleased you’ve come,’ Cook said, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘In my opinion it’s time those youngsters were taught some discipline.’
‘I shall do my best to make them behave, but I can’t guarantee it.’ Sarah smiled. ‘I think Lord Myers will soon have Master John under his control. I hope I may have some success with preparing Miss Francesca for her future role.’
‘She’s been allowed to run wild and that’s the truth of it,’ Cook said. ‘Their grandfather has spoiled them too much in my opinion.’
‘Well, perhaps they just need someone to take an interest in their needs. If you will excuse me, I shall find my way to the drawing room before they ring for tea.’
Sarah left the kitchen and walked up the back stairs, letting herself out into one of the back halls. For a moment she looked about her, trying to get her bearings. Had they turned left or right for the parlour? It was a large house and if she took a wrong turning she might lose herself.
‘If you’re looking for the drawing room, Miss Goodrum, you turn to the right,’ a voice said. Sarah turned and found herself being addressed by a footman. He was young and attractive, with dark blond hair and blue eyes and his smile was friendly.
‘Oh, thank you,’ she said. ‘I visited the front parlour earlier, but couldn’t quite recall which way to turn.’
‘It’s easy enough once you get used to it,’ he said. ‘I’m Trevor Bent, Miss Goodrum. Your name is Hester, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, but I don’t like it,’ Sarah said, her cheeks faintly pink. She hesitated, then, ‘My father called me Sarah. I prefer the name, if you don’t mind.’
‘I don’t mind,’ he replied and grinned. ‘May I call you Sarah—or am I being too forward?’
‘I don’t mind at all,’ she said. ‘Thank you for your help, Trevor.’
Turning in the direction the footman had pointed out, Sarah was pleased by the respectful admiration in the young man’s eyes. He seemed to like her and it was refreshing to know that he had no idea that she was rich. She was tired of being courted for her fortune—and, of late, a certain person’s pursuit had been nothing short of menacing. He was determined to push her into marriage and she was equally determined to resist—but her uncle and aunt were on his side, forever telling her what a good husband Sir Roger would make.
‘He’s a gentleman,’ Uncle Matthew had told her. ‘He won’t interfere in the running of the mills, but he’ll be there at your side to give you more authority. A woman alone can’t hope to mange everything your father left you.’
‘But I told you what he did—that he is a rogue. How can you say he would make a good husband for me?’
‘Reformed rakes make the best husbands,’ her aunt had told her with a foolish and rather coy smile. ‘I dare say he got carried away a little at the party by his love for you, Sarah. Gentlemen can be like that sometimes.’
‘Love is neither here nor there,’ her uncle had said. ‘A woman should be married and caring for her children, not managing the mills. Sir Roger has mills of his own and would take the burden from your shoulders.’
It was no use telling her uncle that Sir Roger left his mills to the care of neglectful overseers and was in danger of losing them—or that she would never subject her people to the kind of treatment they received from Sir Roger’s managers. Of course, Sir Roger never went near them himself. He was far too busy enjoying himself in London—and no doubt he imagined her money would allow him to continue with the life he desired.
Sarah had bitten back the hasty retort that rose to her lips. She had been managing her mills alone quite well, with the help of her managers. It was true that she had found it time-consuming, giving her little leisure for herself, which was why she’d decided to take this time out. Yet she would hate to relinquish them to a man like Sir Roger.
As she approached the drawing room, she heard the sound of voices raised.
‘Why doesn’t Grandfather come himself?’ a girl’s voice said on a truculent note. ‘John and I are tired of being given boring lessons and told to get on with them. We want to see other people—to have some fun.’
‘Well, you have me now. I think John is old enough to start fencing lessons and I’ll teach you how to shoot—and we’ll go fishing and play cricket, but of course you will have to do some lessons. Your governess will take you for those, but I’ll take you both for drives into town. If you behave yourselves, that is.’
‘What about me? Why should John have all the fun while I get stuck with a boring governess?’
‘I’m afraid that is a woman’s lot in life,’ Lord Myers said, but with a teasing note in his voice. ‘I dare say Miss Goodrum may allow you some fun if you behave.’
‘We don’t need her here. Why can’t we just have...?’
Sarah walked into the room. A very pretty fair-haired girl and an equally attractive youth were standing in front of the open hearth with Lord Myers. They looked cross and upset, a contrast to the carefree children she’d observed in the grounds. The girl’s English-rose colour heightened as she turned and saw her.
‘Ah, here is Miss Goodrum,’ Lord Myers said into the hushed silence. ‘As you can see, ma’am, the truants have returned. I have decided they will receive no more than a warning for this day’s escapade, but I shall not be so lenient in future.’
‘I dare say no harm was done,’ Sarah replied. ‘It was a perfect day for fishing after all. Since we did not arrive until half the day was done, it would have been a shame to waste it all indoors. I am hoping to walk with you both on pleasant days. There is no need to sit at a desk to learn. We can observe nature and practise our Latin verbs while on a walk, John—and I think you, Francesca, may find the discussion of your favourite poets as interesting in a meadow as a musty schoolroom.’
The girl’s cheeks went white and then pink. She was clearly undecided whether to show appreciation or hold on to her reserve.
‘Mr Morton made me spend the whole morning doing exercises while he sat in his chair and read a book,’ John exclaimed indignantly. ‘I want to play games and do things.’
‘So you shall.’ Sarah and Lord Myers spoke at
the same time. ‘There are many ways to learn,’ Sarah finished while the mentor looked at her through narrowed eyes.
‘What about me?’ Francesca gave them a sulky look. ‘What am I supposed to do?’
‘Learn some manners for a start,’ Lord Myers said. ‘You’ve neither of you welcomed Miss Goodrum to Cavendish Park.’
‘She didn’t have to come here.’ Francesca said rudely. ‘I’m too old for the schoolroom.’
‘That is why I intend to teach you to dance,’ Sarah said, unruffled by the girl’s sulky manner. ‘We should discuss society and what kind of people you may encounter—and the conversations you may have with friends and acquaintances. Also, you will need to know how to spot a rake and how to avoid being compromised by ruthless gentlemen.’
Francesca’s eyes opened wide. She stared in disbelief, her mouth slightly parted. ‘What did you say?’
‘We shall naturally discuss poetry and literature and you will need to practise your drawing, embroidery and the instrument of your choice—but learning to dance, to enter a room, to curtsy and to hold your own when a gentleman flirts with you is very important. You will need those skills before you have your Season.’
‘You don’t want me to write an essay on the decline of the Roman Empire or conjugate French verbs?’
‘I imagine you’ve had a varied and extensive education. We can discover the boundaries of your knowledge together in conversation. A young woman of fashion must be able to converse intelligently, do you not agree, my lord?’
Sarah risked a look at Lord Myers, who was watching her with narrowed eyes. She was not sure whether they expressed suspicion or disbelief.
‘Most young ladies of my acquaintance are too missish to say boo to a goose. They repeat phrases parrot-fashion and then lapse into embarrassed silence if asked a question.’
‘Too harsh, my lord!’ Sarah laughed, her face lighting with amusement. ‘Well, I shall hope that Francesca will have more to say for herself on her debut. If she has not, I shall have failed in my duties.’
‘Remarkable...’ Lord Myers’s eyes held a look of calculation. ‘Francesca, I think you have been more fortunate than any of us imagined in your new governess. My only question is—how did Lady Mary ever bring herself to part with you?’
Sarah refused to lower her eyes. He was probing, trying to get beneath her skin, but she would not allow him that privilege.
‘Lord Myers is using mockery, Francesca,’ she said in a calm and composed manner. ‘Were I a young woman of fashion I might do one of two things. If I wished to encourage him, I might give him an enigmatic smile and flirt with my fan—or, if I wish to discourage his advances, I should raise an eyebrow and move on without answering.’
‘Here endeth the first lesson,’ Lord Myers drawled. ‘It is actually good advice, Francesca. May one ask which you would have chosen, Miss Goodrum?’
‘I shall leave that to your imagination, my lord,’ Sarah replied, but was relieved when the door opened and the housekeeper entered accompanied by two maids, each of whom carried a tray. ‘Ah, here is our tea. Would you like to play the hostess, Francesca?’
Francesca shot her a nervous look, but took her seat next to a small occasional table. Mrs Brancaster set up her butler’s tray, exchanged a few words with Lord Myers, looked curiously at Sarah and left, taking one of the maids with her.
‘You are aware that you begin with the lady of first rank,’ Sarah told Francesca as her hand hovered. ‘However, since I am the governess, you should begin with Lord Myers and then me and then your brother. Were there several ladies of rank you should attempt to serve the highest rank first and then, when all the ladies are served, go on to the gentlemen and begin again in the same way.’
‘Miss Goodrum may be correct,’ Lord Myers said. ‘But in my opinion ladies are always first—of whatever rank. You may serve Miss Goodrum tea first, Francesca.’
Sarah shot a look at him, but did not contradict him. ‘I take my tea with lemon, no milk or sugar,’ she said and smiled as Francesca lifted the heavy pot. The girl’s hand trembled slightly but she accomplished the ceremony without accident, handing the cup to the maid who delivered it to Sarah, and serving Lord Myers next. He asked for milk and one sugar and then accepted a sandwich and fruit tartlet from the hovering maid.
After everyone had been served with tea and cake, Francesca looked at Sarah. She inclined her head and the maid was dismissed.
‘Did your last governess take tea with you both?’
‘No, she preferred to take hers in the kitchen,’ John answered, a trifle indignant. ‘Fran and me had most of our meals in the nursery together. The only time the drawing room was used was when Grandfather came down and we had guests. Mrs Brancaster served us then—or sometimes Cousin Agatha.’
‘Fran and I,’ Sarah gently corrected. ‘Your cousin visits you from time to time?’
‘Only at Christmas,’ John said. ‘We’ve been on our own for years, haven’t we, Fran?’
‘Yes.’ Francesca sipped her tea. She had crooked her little finger in an affected way, but as she looked at Sarah and saw that she held her cup in a more relaxed manner she did the same. ‘We’re both bored. Why can’t we have friends here to picnics and dances?’
‘We might have a dance on your seventeenth birthday. It’s a few weeks before Christmas,’ Lord Myers said. ‘If you attend to your dancing lessons and whatever else Miss Goodrum has to teach you, you may be ready then. We might start to entertain a few visitors, though—just to dinner and cards or some such thing.’
‘The weather is beautiful,’ Sarah said. ‘I think a picnic for your neighbours would be ideal as a way of letting people know we are receiving calls and visits. The best way to become accustomed to company is to invite them into your home. Does a picnic appeal to you, John?’
‘Can we have games and races? We went to the fete at the vicarage last summer—Fran and I won the three-legged race. It was fun.’
‘I am sure something could be arranged, but you must ask Lord Myers. I am just the governess. I can suggest, but it is not for me to decide.’
Sarah opened her eyes at him, inviting him to respond, her manner carefully controlled. His frown deepened and his gaze narrowed, as if he were trying to read her thoughts. Lord Myers was clearly not convinced that she was a governess.
Just how far would he go to discover the truth?
‘A picnic?’ His gaze moved from one eager face to another and then back to Sarah’s. ‘I seem to have been outnumbered. A picnic it is, then—but I shall expect you to write the invitations, Miss Goodrum. And you will organise the games, if you please.’
‘I’ll help you write the invitations. I know where Grandfather keeps his list of people to invite for Christmas,’ Francesca volunteered. ‘And we’ll both help with the games, won’t we, John?’
John looked at his sister and nodded. He was very much under her influence, Sarah realised. If Francesca gave the new governess her approval, half the battle would be won.
They were talking excitedly about what they wanted at their picnic. Sarah smiled inwardly while helping herself to a dainty almond comfit. This was exactly how she saw family life in the country and she was enjoying herself. However, she knew the battle was not yet won. At the moment the children were getting their own way and were therefore prepared to be amenable, but at the first hint of authority they might change like the wind.
Sarah was very conscious of being scrutinised by Lord Myers. She felt that he did not know what to make of her and was taking his time in deciding. Sarah found herself wishing that she was the governess she professed to be, because she wanted to stay here and be a part of this charmed circle.
A little shiver started at the nape of her neck as she imagined what they would say and think if they knew she was the rich Miss Hardcastle escaping from the pursuit of an overeager suitor. Would they feel betrayed or angry? Of course they would, because she’d lied to get her position here. She had no qualifications for her position as a governess, other than the fact that she had herself been schooled by an excellent governess and spent two years at a finishing school for young ladies.
Sarah hoped that Lord Myers would not discover just how expensive her school had been, because he would wonder how the daughter of a mine manager could afford the fees.
‘Will you teach me to waltz?’
Francesca brought her mind back to the present. ‘I shall do my best and when you’re ready you may practise with your tutor.’
‘My tutor?’ Francesca gave a little laugh. ‘Lord Myers is my cousin,’ she said, making the situation clearer. ‘Grandfather is his uncle.’
‘We are second cousins,’ Lord Myers told her. ‘Your mother was my cousin.’
‘Oh...’ Francesca nodded. ‘It’s the same thing. My last governess told me that all the aristocracy were part of the cousinry—everyone is related to everyone else through marriage, if not by blood.’
‘I’ve heard it said.’ Lord Myers inclined his head. ‘I’m not sure it’s true—though many are related in some way. You don’t have a male cousin, Francesca. I’m your nearest male relative apart from your grandfather. I have a married sister. Have you met Lady Meadows at all?’
Francesca shook her head. ‘Grandfather asked her to stay last Christmas, but she refused.’
‘Jane was having her first child at about that time. She had been married just over a year and wanted to rest to make certain there were no accidents.’
‘Will she come for my birthday dance?’
Francesca’s expression was uncertain, a little pleading, and Sarah’s heart went out to her. She was surely in need of female company and advice.
‘I shall certainly ask.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘You must not worry, Francesca. In a few months you will be out and you’ll meet lots of people—ladies and gentlemen.’
‘It’s so long to wait.’
‘You must learn patience,’ he said. ‘A properly brought-up young lady does not expect everything to happen to suit her. It will not be like that when you are married.’
‘If I ever marry,’ Francesca said and sighed.
‘You will when you’re ready,’ Sarah assured her. ‘Marriage is to be expected and hoped for in your case, Francesca—but there is no hurry. You should enjoy being courted and meeting people. Once you’re out there will be dances and lots of exciting things to do. One day you will fall in love and marry the man of your dreams.’
‘My last governess said I should be required to marry for money and position.’ Francesca tossed her head defiantly, as if to challenge them.
‘Why should you? I think that was a foolish thing to say. A girl like you will be able to take your pick. When you are invited into society you will meet lots of gentlemen, and I’m sure you’ll find one that will make you happy, if you give yourself time. Do not throw yourself away on the first to ask you.’
‘Have you been asked more than once?’
‘Yes, several times...’ Sarah answered without thinking. ‘I refused because...I wasn’t in love.’
‘Love?’ Lord Myers snorted his disgust. ‘Marriage is for property and money, Francesca. Do not expect too much from life and you will not be disappointed.’
‘Is that true, Miss Goodrum?’
All eyes turned to her and Sarah felt warm. She guessed that her cheeks were very pink.
‘Money and property are useful, but I would prefer to live in a cottage with a man I loved than be a fine lady in a manor.’
She had given her pupil a false impression by implying that she cared nothing for money. Her own situation was entirely different—and yet she would not advise marrying for position alone.
‘Of course having money is very useful,’ she added conscientiously.
‘I think I shall marry for love. I want more than just a convenient arrangement,’ Francesca announced and her head went up as if defying her cousin to challenge her.
‘I think you are wise. You should think carefully before committing yourself.’
‘I shall not marry unless I fall in love.’
‘You cannot throw yourself away on an adventurer,’ Sarah said. ‘But I would hold your heart in reserve until you find someone who will show you love rather than mere affection.’
Francesca was silent, but obviously thoughtful. Lord Myers was frowning, perhaps shocked by the new governess’s unconventional opinions. Sarah realised that she was speaking her mind, but perhaps in a way that might not benefit her pupil.
‘Of course you would wish your husband to be a gentleman and of reasonable fortune.’
‘So love in a cottage might not be everything after all?’
Lord Myers threw her a mocking look that stung Sarah. She wanted to retort sharply, but decided she had been indiscreet enough for one day and merely inclined her head, as if acknowledging his hit.
* * *
After tea, Sarah asked to be taken up to the schoolroom and both Francesca and John accompanied her, leaving Lord Myers to do whatever gentlemen did until it was time to change for dinner.
Sarah glanced at some of the work her pupils had done, thought it uninspired and dull, but made no comment. They looked at the books that had been provided and she shook her head over the lack of history and literature.
‘Does the marquess have a library here?’
‘There are shelves of books,’ Francesca said. ‘The last tutor spent most of his time there and told us it was off limits, because the books were too valuable to be touched by ignorant children.’
‘Good gracious!’ Sarah was shocked. ‘How could he have been so impolite! I feel his attitude showed a lack of both manners and sense. I shall ask Lord Myers if we may use the library for our lessons when there are no guests staying. This room is too isolated and dark. If the library is on the ground floor, we can have the windows and doors open on nice days and take our books outside.’
‘You’re different,’ John said, looking at her oddly. ‘Not like a governess at all. Do we have to call you Miss Goodrum?’
Sarah hesitated, then shook her head. ‘In company it might be wise to do so—but when we are together you may call me Sarah if you wish.’
‘I thought your name was Hester Goodrum?’
‘My father called me Sarah and I prefer it.’ Sarah felt the open-eyed scrutiny of the young girl and guilt struck her. She had not given enough thought to this escapade before changing places with the governess. It felt uncomfortable to lie to this girl, more so than the eagle-eyed man who was here to overlook their education.
She wanted to be Francesca’s friend. She sensed that the girl was lonely and needed the love of a mother or an elder sister. Sarah would like to give her friendship, to have her trust and like her—but their friendship must be based on a lie, and that hurt.
She would make up for her deceit somehow. As she heard the eagerness in the young girl’s voice, Sarah vowed that she would do all she could to make her happy and to prepare her for a life in society. If things went as she hoped, no one need know that she was not Hester Goodrum and when she left them no harm would have been done.
Chapter Four (#ufeff8085-7298-5e54-93e5-cf6e726fbba8)
Sarah lost no time in changing for the evening after her pupils had gone to their own rooms. John was clearly excited at the prospect for it was the first time he had been allowed to have dinner in the dining room, with the exception of Christmas dinner, which was always earlier so that the staff could enjoy a little free time in the evening. Francesca was pleased, but trying hard to be grown-up and take it all in her stride.
Having changed quickly into a simple grey-silk gown, which was the only one of her own that Sarah had brought with her and suitable for dinner should she be summoned to dine with the family, she went downstairs to find Lord Myers. One of the footmen directed her to the library and she found him perusing the shelves, which were set out on three sides of the room. There were several long windows to let in the light and a set of French windows, which might be opened to allow access to the garden. A perfect room for studying.
‘Forgive me for disturbing you, my lord,’ she said in what she hoped was the tone a governess might use. ‘I see you enjoy reading, which may make you more disposed to granting my request. I find the schoolroom inadequately provided for my pupils’ education and I hoped we might have permission to use the library for an hour or two each morning.’
He turned to look at her, his eyes narrowing as they studied her. Sarah wondered if her gown was too smart. It was the simplest she had and she would not have worn it had he not made it impossible for her to refuse to dine with him.
‘I am not sure what my uncle would think about his privacy being invaded should he decide to come down—but while he is in London I see no reason why we should not share the facility. I like to read in the evenings when we do not have company, but I shall be busy in the estate office in the mornings. Shall we say from nine-thirty to eleven-thirty the library is yours and the children’s?’
‘That is most generous, my lord.’ Sarah approached the shelves. ‘Is there a good poetry section? I dare say there is little new here...’
‘Oh, I think you may find enough to keep yourselves amused. My uncle may not visit often, but he is a collector of books. You will not find books bought by the yard here. All of them have been read and handled—and there are a few new novels here. I imagine my uncle bought them for his niece.’
‘John told me their last tutor forbade them the use of this room.’
‘Then he exceeded his authority.’ Lord Myers looked annoyed. ‘It seems to me that my uncle has been ill served as regards to his grandchildren. They were neglected, Miss Goodrum. I do not intend that it shall happen again.’
‘John will benefit from your tuition, sir. I hope I may do the same for Francesca.’
‘She admires you.’ His gaze was stern, his sensual mouth set in a hard line. ‘You will not let her down, Miss Goodrum. I shall be watching her progress.’
‘I hope to prove my worth to you.’ Sarah raised her head. ‘Thank you for your generosity.’
‘The library should be available to all.’ His gaze intensified, dwelling on her in a way that sent little shivers down her spine. ‘I am not sure who you are, Miss Goodrum—but I intend to discover the truth.’
‘I am not sure I understand you.’
‘Do you not? Then perhaps I am wrong—but I sense a mystery. If I discover that you are not what you profess to be, I shall be merciless. As I told you before, I do not take kindly to liars.’
Sarah found it difficult to suppress the shiver that ran through her. Had she given herself away already? How could he know that she was not a governess—and what did he imagine her to be?
‘Francesca is an impressionable young girl,’ he continued. ‘She has begun to trust you. Please do not give me cause to dismiss you. I should be loath to destroy her faith in the first person to offer her friendship.’
‘I have no intention of harming either John or Francesca.’
He moved towards her, staring down into her face for a moment before reaching out to tilt her chin so that she was forced to look into his eyes. Sarah felt a tingle of some strange new sensation; it started low in her abdomen and spread throughout her body, making her feel hot. Her cheeks were warm and she wanted to jerk away, but held her ground.
‘Are you an adventuress?’ he asked, quirking a dark eyebrow. She could not help noticing that his mouth looked perfect for kissing and she trembled inside. A man like this was dangerous. Despite his sensual appeal, he had a look of iron about him and she feared what he might do if he guessed she had deceived them all. ‘What do you hope to gain by coming here? Did you think you might capture yourself a wealthy husband? Had you heard Merrivale was a lonely old man who might fall for your charms?’
Sarah caught her breath and then the absurdity of his question made her laugh. It was so far from the truth that she felt her tension melting away.
‘You have a vivid imagination, Lord Myers,’ she said. ‘I do not count my charms so high that I would ever seek to advance myself in the way you suggest. I am sorry I have given you such a poor opinion of my character. I assure you it is undeserved.’
‘Indeed?’ He bent his head and kissed her, his mouth soft and yet demanding, evoking a swift response. For a moment she felt light-headed, her heart racing as he deepened his kiss, and she wanted to swoon into his arms. Something inside her longed to respond to his demand and she felt a rising need, a sweet heat between her thighs that she had never experienced before.
Suddenly realising that her response must be confirming his opinion of her, she placed her hands against his shoulders and pushed him back. As anger replaced the feeling of bliss, she raised her hand and would have slapped him as hard as she could had he not caught her by the wrist.
‘So there is fire beneath the cool calm exterior,’ he murmured and there was devilry in his eyes. ‘You intrigue me, Miss Goodrum. I am not usually wrong in my first impressions and I know you have not always been a governess. You are hiding something, but I shall find you out.’
‘You are no gentleman, sir,’ she replied coldly. The look she gave him had quelled the mill managers who had tried to dismiss her authority when she took over her father’s business empire. They had sought to cheat and ridicule her, but she’d faced them down—and she would put this rogue in his place. Even if she had felt close to swooning at his kiss—but that just showed she was a foolish spinster starved of a man’s love. What on earth was she thinking of to have allowed it to continue before pushing him away? He was far from being the kind of husband she needed, were she to decide to marry. ‘I am aware that you have a privileged position in this house but that does not give you the right to question my morality or to attempt seduction in this manner. If you ever behave this way again I shall give in my notice—and I shall make it plain to the marquess why I was forced to leave.’
‘She has claws,’ he said, looking amused. ‘Come, Miss Goodrum, you did not find the experience so very unpleasant, I think?’
‘You insulted me and then tried to take advantage of me. I should like to make it plain that I will not stand for such behaviour. If you feel me unsuited to the position, you may dismiss me.’
‘Dismiss you?’ His gaze burned her to the core and her stomach clenched. ‘Oh, no, I have no intention of sending you away until I discover the truth. I thought I might find an extended visit to the country a trifle boring, but it is no such thing. I shall enjoy crossing swords with you, Miss Goodrum.’
‘I would prefer that you keep your distance. We must remain on good terms for the sake of the children, my lord—but I see no reason for our paths to cross other than in their company.’
‘Do you not?’ He smiled oddly. ‘You rest on your dignity, but it was a different matter when I kissed you. Yet I would not harm you if you are truly what
you claim to be. We shall endeavour to be polite to one another for the sake of John and Francesca—but you are the most unusual governess I have ever met.’
‘Is that necessarily a bad thing?’ Sarah raised her eyes to his. ‘I give you my word that I am not an adventuress, nor did I come here to entrap anyone into marriage.’
‘Shall I believe you?’ He looked at her steadily. His strong features had relaxed and there was a teasing light in his eyes, as if he were playing with her, as a cat with a mouse. ‘Yes, perhaps I shall. So what is it you are hiding? Are you in trouble? I might be able to help you if that is the case.’
‘I am perfectly capable of looking after my own affairs.’ Sarah raised her head proudly. ‘I believe that was the dinner gong. We should go in or we shall keep the others waiting.’
He inclined his head, offering her his arm. ‘As you say, Miss Goodrum. Please accept my apologies if I have wronged you.’
Sarah hesitated and then placed the tips of her fingers on his arm, her head high as they walked towards the dining room. She could only keep her distance and hope he would do the same.
The last thing she’d expected when she came here was to find herself having to fend off the advances of a man she suspected was a rake. Charming and undeniably attractive, he would make most female hearts flutter, but Sarah had come here to escape from the unwanted attentions of a similar man.
Had she been less stubborn she might have fled the next morning, but she had no intention of letting Lord Myers drive her away.
* * *
Rupert watched the governess across the table as she talked and laughed with her pupils. She seemed very at home, very much as if she were accustomed to dining in style, and showed no hesitation in choosing the correct glasses and silver. Her manner was calm and assured, and, apart from the dark looks she sent his way now and then, she seemed perfectly at ease. He knew himself at fault for that kiss, but she’d looked at him with such a challenge in her eyes that he’d been tempted. If she were truly what she claimed, he had wronged her, but his instincts told him that she was far from the downtrodden drudge that most women in her situation became after a few years.
The dress she was wearing this evening was far too stylish to belong to a governess. It was plain and simple, but in perfect taste, and must have cost as much as she would earn in a year. How could she possibly own a dress like that if she were what she claimed to be? It must have been given to her, possibly made to fit her—and who would give a governess such a gift? Yet it was not what he would have purchased for a mistress. Instead it had an understated elegance that a lady with refined taste might choose.
The gown had made him think she must be an adventuress, which had led him into that foolish kiss. He was here to mentor his uncle’s grandchildren and the last thing he should contemplate was an affair with their governess. Perhaps a grateful employer had given her the gown, as a gift?
If that were the case, he had definitely wronged her, but it did not explain her manner. Summoned to eat with their employer, most governesses would show reserve or some awkwardness even if their manners were excellent, as hers were. No, she was accustomed to dining like this—and she felt it her right.
Only a woman who felt assured of her place in the world could be so at home in the situation he had forced her to accept. Had he met her in society he would not have placed her in the upper echelons, but she would certainly be accepted. Why, then, was she a governess? Had her family fallen on hard times? Yet if she were in desperate need of a job she would not be so confident—so assured. His suspicion deepened. Rupert had reason enough to distrust the female sex. His heart broken when he was no more than a lad, he’d never offered it again. Since then he’d amused himself with ladies of a certain kind, most of them married or widowed. A few of his mistresses had been courtesans, prepared to sell themselves to the highest bidder, and were usually not to be trusted.
Miss Goodrum did not follow the pattern for a downtrodden governess, which made him certain that she was not what she claimed. It followed that she was hiding something—but rather than fear he’d seen a challenge in her eyes. And she had responded to that kiss.
Her manner had aroused Rupert’s hunting instincts. He found her intriguing, and, yes, had he met her in other circumstances, he might have attempted to make her his mistress.
Who was she and why was she here? Their eyes met across the table and he smiled, seeing the uncertainty in hers. Had he made an enemy of her? Rupert suddenly found himself hoping that he could recover the lost ground. She looked so right somehow as she laughed and teased John and encouraged Francesca. He experienced a strange emotion that he could not place—as if he had found a place of content, of belonging.
For the first time in an age he wanted to be a part of that family scene. It struck him then that Miss Goodrum was more like an aunt or an elder sister to Francesca, and the smile on her lips was both generous and sweet.
Yet there was a mystery here. He’d sensed it from the start and he took hold of his emotions, reining them in. A woman’s smile could deceive so easily. He’d been burned as a young man, his pride ripped to pieces and his heart damaged. Since then he’d chosen carefully and made sure that none of the ladies he took to his bed had buried their claws in his skin.
The governess had claws. There was passion and fire beneath the cool exterior. It would certainly prove amusing to discover who she really was and why she’d come here.
What was she hiding from?
* * *
John was sent to bed as soon as dinner was over. Francesca was allowed to drink a dish of tea in the drawing room with her governess, but as soon as Lord Myers joined them, he sent her off to bed. Sarah immediately rose to her feet to follow. He caught her wrist, as she would have passed him.
The candles were burning low in their sconces and the fire had ceased to burn fiercely. Shadows seemed to creep over the room, making it feel intimate and tempting her to stay—but she must not!
‘There is no need for you to leave, Miss Goodrum.’
‘I think there is every need, sir. Please allow me to pass.’ Sarah’s heart raced at his nearness, the mystique of his scent powerful and attractive. She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, knowing that this was a dangerous situation. She must go before he tried to seduce her.
He let go reluctantly, his expression odd and almost regretful. ‘I am sorry for what I said earlier. I was testing you. You must admit that dress is not the usual attire for a governess.’
‘No, I suppose not. It belongs to the time when my father was alive. He bought it for me as a gift. My father was careful with his money, sir, and he spent it on me.’
Sarah avoided his searching gaze, though her words were not far from the truth. She’d purchased the gown when her first period of mourning was over with the money her beloved father had left her and because it was a favourite she’d kept it. Had she worn some of her other newer gowns she could not have hoped to keep her secret.
‘Then I apologise for casting aspersions on your character. Come, Miss Goodrum, will you not forgive me?’
‘Consider yourself forgiven, my lord. I only wish to be on good terms with you.’
She deliberately made her voice flat, calm and
emotionless, hoping that her reserve would make him step back.
‘Then I shall not tease you again. We must not allow our charges to sense animosity between us.’
‘No, that would be unfortunate,’ she agreed, bringing her eyes up to his. His expression set her heart thumping. She had seen that look in a man’s eyes before and it disturbed her. Normally she had no hesitation in dealing with unwanted seducers, but this man was different, more powerful and compelling than any other she’d met. ‘We shall try to be easy in one another’s company for their sakes.’
‘May I not be counted as a friend?’
‘I think you ask a little too much, sir. I hardly know you—but perhaps in time we may progress to friendship.’
‘Very well. I was wrong to assume you were an adventuress—but my offer remains. If you are in trouble, I should be glad to be of service.’
‘Thank you. I shall bear that in mind. Now, if you will excuse me, sir.’
‘Very well. I shall not detain you against your will. I shall take John riding first thing in the morning, but he will be back in time for his lessons.’
‘You must do as you think fit, sir. I believe he has a great deal of energy that needs an outlet. Riding, fencing and other sports may help him to settle to his studies.’
‘I believe so. Goodnight, Miss Goodrum. Pleasant dreams.’
‘Thank you.’
Sarah inclined her head and walked on past him. Her heart had raced at his touch, but she had clamped down on her foolish emotions. Gentlemen in his position too often took advantage of female employees who could not easily escape their attentions. He had promised not to bother her again, but the look in his eyes had said something different.
She could not deny that she had felt the pull of his attraction, but he was not for her. As Miss Hardcastle she might attract proposals from gentlemen who needed a fortune to finance their extravagant lifestyles, but if she was not prepared to buy herself a husband, she certainly had no intention of becoming any man’s mistress. Sarah might choose marriage if the right opportunity presented itself—but not to a man like Lord Myers.
She did not know his fortune, but she recognised the sensuality of the man, the attraction that must make him popular with ladies of his own class—and others. Sarah had no doubt that he was a physical man who took mistresses whenever he chose—and that was not the kind of man she needed in her life. Such a man could not be trusted. As charming as he was, she would never be certain that he would not stray into another’s bed. Sarah knew that only a very beautiful and clever woman would capture the heart of a man like that, and she could not hope that he would want more from her than a brief affair to enliven a dull stay in the country.
Nor did she wish it, of course. When Sarah married, if she ever did, it would be to a quiet man who enjoyed books; a man who would be there if she needed him but also be content to stay in the background and allow her to continue to run her mills, should she wish to do so. Sarah had fought for the right to run her mills, but was not sure whether she wished to continue. Were she happily married with a family she thought she might be content to let her husband take over her affairs. However, she did not intend to be dictated to and told she must relinquish them entirely. She could not imagine that Lord Myers would ever be content to let his wife do something he would consider beneath her dignity.
He was a very attractive man, but his character left much to be desired from what she’d seen thus far. He would not make a suitable husband for Miss Sarah Hardcastle and might run through her fortune in an instant, given the opportunity.
She had not run away from one fortune hunter to fall into the arms of another, even if she did find him attractive. No such thing! She was not truly attracted to him.
It was merely that she had been lonely since her father died, of course. Her father had been such a loving companion and what she really wanted was someone to take his place, to care for her and watch over her, but demand little other than warm affection.
Lord Myers would not have received more than a moment’s fleeting attention from her had they met in company. It was only that she was forced to live in what was undoubtedly an intimate situation with him.
What had brought him here? He did not seem the kind of man to relish the obligations that his uncle had asked of him. She would have thought him more at home in the drawing rooms of London society, rather than playing mentor to a young boy. Why should he give up his time and his way of life to come down here?
He accused her of hiding, but perhaps he too had something to hide? What had made him the man he was? Sarah wondered if some secret lay in his past. He was of an age to have been married for some years. Surely he must want a wife and children of his own—though of course she was assuming he had not for she knew so little about him. However, Francesca would surely have mentioned it if he had a wife?
So why had he stayed single? What had brought that hard glitter to his eyes and the brittle layer that hid the real man from the casual eye? He had a sense of humour, she knew—so what had made him so suspicious of her? Was it just that he did not trust women in general?
Oh, this was ridiculous! She must dismiss him from her mind for it was dangerous to allow a man like that into her thoughts.
Despite her determination to be sensible, Sarah found her thoughts dwelling too often on the handsome Lord Rupert as she undressed. She pulled down the covers on her bed, looking for any unpleasant objects that a teenage boy might have placed there as a prank, but found nothing untoward. Obviously, she’d passed her first test with the children at least.
She would forget their mentor and concentrate her thoughts on them. She was here to be of service to the children.
Francesca wasn’t a child, though. She was on the verge of womanhood. In past centuries she might have been married by now; she might even have had a child of her own. To treat her as a child would be foolish. Sarah had taken to the girl and, as she slipped into bed and leaned forwards to blow out the candle beside it, she was determined to do what she could to make her life better. She would enjoy getting to know her charge and she would find it pleasant to share her own love of reading, poetry, history and even the occasional novel.
There was a wealth of books on the library shelves, including some with pictures of mythical beasts that she thought might appeal to John. Perhaps she wasn’t a conventional governess, but she was quite capable of giving them both an education. Sarah loved to play the pianoforte and she thought Francesca might enjoy playing a duet with her.
Life here could be extremely comfortable and pleasant. She would be able to walk first thing in the morning if her lessons were not to start until nine-thirty. She would have liked to ride, but wasn’t sure that privilege would be granted to a governess.
For a moment she felt a pang of regret. Her own horses would miss her and so would her dogs—and some of her servants. She had written to reassure everyone that she was quite safe. She would have to make sure that she kept in touch with her agents or they might become anxious about her and set up a search to find her.
Closing her eyes, Sarah drifted off to sleep, though her dreams were unaccountably disturbed by the look on a man’s face.
‘Who are you?’ he asked. ‘I shall find you out...you cannot hide from me...’
* * *
Rupert frowned as he brooded over his glass of wine after the governess had gone up. The shadows seemed to fold about him and he was aware that the room seemed empty. He was a fool to allow the woman under his skin, because very likely she would turn out to be the adventuress he’d imagined her at first. Yet something about her had captured his interest and he’d wanted her to stay after the children had gone up.
It was years since Rupert had enjoyed feminine company—other than in bed. Most society women bored him and he was wary of foolish young misses who were out to capture a husband. To have sat talking into the night with an intelligent woman would be pleasant, he thought.
In London he was seldom aware that he was lonely because he spent his evenings either at his club in the company of male friends, drinking, gambling or talking of politics and the price of stocks, or with his mistress. Had his uncle been here he might not have realised his lack, but in this situation it had come to him forcibly that his life was far from satisfactory.
As a young man Rupert had imagined that he would fall in love, marry and rear a large family, but a woman who preferred money and a superior title had shattered those dreams. He’d taken his bruised heart and damaged pride off to war and had for a time found content with his fellow officers—but when they turned against him...
Rupert’s mind shied away from the memories. Mixed with the pain of seeing his men broken and dying, their blood spilling out on the hot dry earth, what happened later was too painful to contemplate. He’d shut away his pain and hurt, just as he’d shut out the humiliation he’d received at a woman’s hands, determined to rise above the petty spite of others. And he’d succeeded so well that he’d come to be what he wanted others to think him—careless, stern and reserved. Rupert needed no one’s approval. He was his own man, ruled by principles of iron and he answered to no one. Only a few ever saw the other side of him—a side he had almost forgotten.
Once he’d known how to enjoy the small pleasures in life. He’d known how to love, to show caring and to give and take joy from being intimate with another.
That was years ago, before he’d learned that no woman was to be trusted. They were all the same—greedy, grabbing, jealous little kittens that liked to be stroked and given a saucer of cream, but would scratch you if you annoyed them.
Undoubtedly, the governess was exactly the same, though for the moment he confessed to being more than a little intrigued, if only by the mystery he sensed in her past.
Yet she had reached out to him in a way few other women ever had, arousing feelings of need and desire with just one flash of her gorgeous eyes.
* * *
Sarah awoke when a maid drew back the curtains. She yawned and stretched, her mind still lost in dreams as she said, ‘Good morning, Tilly. Have you brought my chocolate?’
‘It’s Agnes, Miss Goodrum—and you told Mrs Brancaster you would take breakfast downstairs.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Sarah said, the realisation of where she was returning with a rush. She had given herself away and could only hope the maid would not repeat her words to others. ‘If I go down immediately I shall be finished by the time the family is up. I do not see why you should wait on me.’
‘I’ve brought your hot water, miss—as Mrs Brancaster told me.’
‘Thank you, that was kind.’ Sarah threw back the covers. On waking she’d thought she was at home and her own maid was bringing her the hot chocolate she took every morning before she rose.
It would be a while before she accustomed herself to the life she had chosen—a very different life, but one that had its own compensations.
After Agnes had gone, Sarah washed, dressed in one of Hester’s sensible gowns and, on looking from the window to see the sun was shining, decided against a shawl. Since she was walking on private grounds she saw no reason to wear a bonnet and left her room without one.
She found her way down the back stairs to a side entrance that led into a walled garden. The bricks were faded, trailed with roses and clematis, and would look a picture in a few weeks from now. However, she was accustomed to long country walks near her home and left the pleasant garden to explore more of the estate. She had insufficient time to walk as far as the village she’d seen, but would certainly do so on her day off. Hester had been promised one a month, which could be saved and taken together for visits home. Sarah would require only a few hours of freedom, perhaps in the early mornings or at night. If necessary, she might have to visit her home to reassure her anxious friends—if she continued here for more than a few weeks, of course.
Should Lord Myers discover her true identity she might find herself summarily dismissed. Sarah would be truly sorry if that happened. She had a lovely house herself and friends, but at home there was always the sense that she was being watched...that people were waiting for her to make mistakes.
She would forget her worries and enjoy her walk. The air was fresh and there was a hint of real warmth for later. Sarah walked as far as a small lake, where she watched ducks and swans gliding on its still waters. There was an intriguing wood to the right of the lake and a summer house that looked interesting. Perhaps she had found the site for their picnic, she mused as she returned to the house.
Her walk had made her hungry and she entered the breakfast room, thinking she would have it to herself, but a little to her dismay she discovered Lord Myers sitting at the table. He got to his feet as she entered, came round the table and pulled out a chair.
‘I was hoping you might join me, Miss Goodrum.’
‘I thought I might have finished before the family came down.’
‘You will not disturb me. I enjoy company at meals and I am an early riser, unlike most of my friends, who rarely show their faces before noon.’
Sarah’s cheeks were warm. She kept her back towards him as she looked beneath the silver covers and chose from scrambled eggs, kedgeree, devilled kidneys and bacon, making her choice before returning to the table.
‘I did not wish to make more work for the maids by having my breakfast brought up. Mrs Brancaster thought it would be suitable for me to take my meals here since you invited me to dine last evening.’
‘Why make more work for the servants? I’ve told John and Francesca that they may join us for all meals. We are a small family, Miss Goodrum, so why not make the most of each other’s company?’
‘It seems ridiculous to have meals taken to the nursery when we do not intend to spend much time there.’
‘Exactly. Others may find the practice unconventional, but I can see no reason why the children of the family should not join their parents—unless they are ill-behaved and would annoy the guests.’
‘We have no guests....’
‘How perceptive of you, Miss Goodrum,’ he said and there was a gleam of mockery in his eyes.
‘Do you enjoy mocking everything and everyone?’
‘If one could not laugh at the world it would be a dull place, do you not agree?’
‘Yes, perhaps.’ Sarah’s mouth was unaccountably smiling despite her determination to keep her distance. ‘Do you intend on inviting guests to stay?’
If he did so she would need to change her arrangements, for guests would not expect to see the governess at every meal.
‘We may have that picnic John was so keen on and we shall encourage people to visit for tea—but I think no house guests at the moment. Unless my uncle decides to visit; he might come down at any time, of course.’
‘You were not thinking of holding a dinner?’
‘Not for the moment. Unless, as I said, my uncle decides to visit his grandchildren. He told me he has no intention of it until Christmas, but he might change his mind.’
‘Yes, I can see that would change things.’ Sarah swallowed a little scrambled egg and a piece of kidney. She touched the napkin to her mouth and glanced at him. ‘Would it be rude of me to ask why a gentleman like you would agree to be John’s mentor for six months? I should have thought you might prefer to be in town—or have business at your own estate.’
‘Should you?’ His brows rose. ‘I see no reason why I should answer your question, but I shall tell you that my estate is within a day’s ride should I need to visit it—and I do have agents and managers to run it for me.’
‘Yes, of course, but there is always some little detail needing attention, do you not find? Things that only you can decide...’ Sarah dipped her head as his eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘My father always said he could not leave his business for long...’
‘I thought you said he was a mine manager?’
‘Yes, he was,’ Sarah agreed. ‘He was always very busy and had little time for his family. Especially after my mother died.’
‘Was that long ago?’
‘I was twelve at the time. I grew closer to my father and sometimes accompanied him on...’ She had been going to say journeys, for her father had travelled between the mine and the mills. ‘On his way to work,’ she finished lamely.
‘That was before you went to school?’
‘Yes, I had a governess. She did not approve of me spending so much time at the m...mine.’ Again she had been going to say mills and bit back her words. This was a dangerous subject and if she were not careful she would betray herself.
At that moment the door opened and both John and Francesca entered. After exchanging greetings with Sarah and Lord Myers, they went to the sideboard and began to choose from the various dishes. John was clearly impressed by the choice and spent some time filling his plate.
‘Can you eat all that?’ Sarah asked. ‘You must remember that we shall eat nuncheon later—unless we just have some fruit and biscuits? I thought we might ramble later this afternoon. We can collect wild flowers and stones, things that we can draw or make into a collection. If Lord Myers has no other plans?’
‘I couldn’t resist,’ John said honestly. ‘We never get all this in the nursery. I should like to go rambling if Rupert has nothing else planned.’
‘As a matter of fact, I had planned that we should start your fencing lessons after nuncheon. We shall spend an hour teaching you the first moves and then I had thought you might wish to play a ball game on the lawn. However, you may go walking after the fencing lesson if you prefer.’
‘No, I’d rather stay with you,’ John said and attacked his food as if he had been starved for the past year.
‘Better slow down a bit,’ Lord Myers advised and John immediately sat back, chewing more thoroughly.
‘I’d like to play ball games,’ Francesca said. ‘I’d like to watch the fencing, too—but it may be best if I wait until John has learned a few moves. We could ramble for a while and then come back and join the others, couldn’t we, Sarah?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Sarah said and saw Lord Myers’s brows shoot up. ‘I told Francesca she might use my preferred name when we are alone, my lord.’
‘Indeed, Miss Goodrum?’ He looked at her through narrowed eyes. ‘I thought your name was Hester?’
Sarah felt her cheeks growing warm. ‘I never liked the name and my father had a pet name for me. It was my mother’s name also....’
‘I see. Are we all allowed to call you by this...pet name? Or is it only for Francesca?’
‘In company I think it would be best if I remained Miss Goodrum. I leave the rest to your good sense, Lord Myers.’
‘Ah, I see.’ A gleam appeared in his eyes. ‘I shall give the matter my full attention, Miss Goodrum.’
Sarah felt her cheeks flame. Had they been alone she might have made a sharp retort, but decided to change the subject.
For the remainder of their meal, she addressed her remarks to John and Francesca and was relieved when Lord Myers got up and excused himself.
‘I have some estate business to attend to while I am here,’ he said. ‘I shall see you after nuncheon, John—and we shall play some kind of ball game on the lawns at about three this afternoon.’
* * *
Soon after he departed Sarah left the others to finish and went to the library. She had chosen the books they were to discuss by the time Francesca and John arrived. Having found a bestiary for John to peruse and some poetry books that she thought Francesca would like, she spent the next half an hour reading poetry. As she chose a poem that told of daring deeds and men’s lives laid down on the field of battle, she was not surprised that John paid full attention to her reading.
‘It was a brave thing Horatio did in laying down his life for the men he fought with, wasn’t it, miss?’ he said when she put down the book. ‘I think I should like to be a soldier and fight for honour and glory.’
‘Perhaps you will when you are older.’ Sarah smiled at him. ‘Now I am going to read a romantic poem for Francesca’s sake. You may wish to peruse your bestiary, John—but I should like you to write me a short piece about the battle scenes we just discussed in your own time. Can you do that for me?’
‘Yes, miss. May I write it as a story?’
‘If you wish. Yes, I think that would be an excellent idea.’ She opened her book and smiled at Francesca. ‘This is Colonel Lovelace’s letter to Lucasta on the eve of Battle. Although it has the same theme, it is romantic and I think you may enjoy it.’
She began to read, noticing that although John had opened his book, clearly disgusted at the idea of a sloppy romance, he soon began to listen to the poem and the others Sarah read to them.
‘For your essay I would like you to write about what romance is—and what you think Lucasta meant to Colonel Lovelace to make him write such a poem, Francesca.’
‘Oh, yes...it was so romantic,’ Francesca said and sighed. ‘Love is a wonderful thing, is it not? Have you ever been in love, Sarah?’
‘No, I haven’t. I loved my father, but I think being in love is very different.’
‘How does one know whether love is real?’
‘I am not sure—but I think when it happens one feels it in here.’ Sarah placed a hand over her heart. ‘If you think it is happening to you one day, you must give yourself time to be sure, Francesca—but I think you will know in your heart if it’s real.’
‘Men can let you down, though, can’t they? I heard about one of the servant girls...’ Francesca glanced at John, who appeared to have his nose firmly in his book. ‘Something happened to her and she was sent away in disgrace. I asked Mrs Brancaster why and she said a man had let poor Alice down. I wasn’t sure what she meant.’
‘Ah...’ Sarah swallowed hard. She hadn’t realised the girl was so innocent. ‘That is something we ought to discuss another day—perhaps in private.’
‘It meant she was having a baby and she wasn’t wed,’ John said, proving that his ears were still listening even if his nose was in the book. ‘Timothy the groom told me Alice wouldn’t say who the father was, but he thought—’
‘Yes, well, perhaps it is best if we do not speculate on such matters,’ Sarah said. She herself had learned from her old nurse where babies came from when she was sixteen and one of her father’s maids had also been dismissed for having committed the terrible sin of lying with one of the grooms.
‘I sort of knew that,’ Francesca admitted. ‘But not why she was in trouble... I mean, what made her?’
Sarah’s cheeks were warm. ‘There are a few books on anatomy, which might explain how it works. However, making babies happens when a man and a woman make love—and that starts with kissing. There is more, which it would not be appropriate for us to discuss at the moment—but it is the reason your mama would have told you not to let men kiss you, if she were still here.’
‘Mrs Brancaster said something of the sort, but I didn’t understand her. If people are in love, why is it wrong to kiss and make babies?’
‘I dare say it is not wrong. In fact, it is perfectly right and natural—but society and the church say that it must only happen when the man and woman are married. That is why Mrs Brancaster said poor Alice had been let down by a man. He may not have wished to marry her after...afterwards.’
‘Then he was unkind and cruel,’ Francesca said. She frowned. ‘I think I should like to read those books on anatomy, please.’
‘I will find them for you.’ Sarah got up and went to the shelves. She ran her finger along them and took out two, which after looking at the pictures, she judged to be matter-of-fact tomes, which dealt with such matters. She handed them to Francesca. ‘This explains how it happens and the workings of a woman’s—and a man’s—body but not why. If the attraction is there, feelings are aroused...but you should never give in to them before marriage. If you did so, you would lose your reputation and you would never find the kind of husband your family would wish you to have. Also, you would be shamed and many hostesses would not admit you to their drawing rooms.’
‘Yes, I see.’ Francesca put away the books along with with her poetry volumes just as the bell sounded for nuncheon. ‘I should go to my room first. Thank you, Sarah. I’ve learned more this morning than I did in all the time my last governess was here.’
‘But I saw some of the work you did with her. You can write quite well in French, Francesca, as well as being advanced in your Latin verbs.’
‘What good will such things do me in life?’ Francesca asked. ‘Someone told me gentlemen do not like clever girls. I need to know about love and having children.’
Sarah made no reply. The morning had proved more eventful than she’d intended and she was busy with her thoughts as she ran up to her room to wash her hands. Both of her pupils had lively enquiring minds and it seemed they were thirsty for knowledge. She had answered their questions honestly, but she wasn’t sure that her teaching was exactly what their uncle might wish them to learn.
* * *
Nuncheon was a pleasant interlude. No one was particularly hungry and Sarah noticed that Francesca followed her lead and ate mostly fruit, drinking a pleasant cordial and eating some gooseberries that were deliciously ripe and stewed with a rich pastry crust and custard.
After the meal John departed with his mentor to begin his fencing lessons and Francesca took Sarah on a long ramble about the estate, showing her parts of it that she had not yet ventured to alone. As they walked, Sarah explained more of how babies were made and what she knew of love, which was, she admitted, very little.
‘I have felt tempted,’ she said when Francesca pressed for more. ‘But I knew it was wrong. I have been asked to marry, but as I had no feelings for the gentleman I refused. I should not want him to kiss me—or do any of the other things of that I have been told, but have no experience.’
‘I just wanted to know what Alice had done to be sent off like that,’ Francesca said. ‘It doesn’t seem fair that she lost her job, but he—well, she wouldn’t tell anyone who it was.’
‘She was being loyal to him, but I think it a mistake. If he promised her marriage, he should have been made to wed her.’
‘But he might have lost his job, too. Mrs Brancaster said that the maids were not allowed followers.’
‘You can understand why. If they get into trouble, they have to leave and then the housekeeper has to train a new girl.’
‘Yes, I see that—but why not let her stay until she has the baby? Afterwards, she could work part of the time, couldn’t she?’
‘I dare say Mrs Brancaster is doing what she thinks right. You see, Alice had been immoral by her standards—and that is how most people see it.’
‘Do you not think it unfair?’
‘Well, yes, I do. However, one has to live by the rules, Francesca. If it had happened to a girl in my employ, I should have tried to help her—but she would still have had to leave, because of the example it sets to others.’
‘I still think it’s unfair,’ Francesca said. ‘I liked Alice and I cried when she left.’
‘Yes, I can see that it would upset you. I dare say Mrs Brancaster did not like to do it, but she might have lost her own job if she had neglected her duty. Your grandfather would not have wished for a girl like that to continue in his service. It’s the way of the world and we shall not change it.’
‘Women can’t change anything, can they? Men rule our lives. If we have a fortune, our father or guardian controls it until we marry and then our husband takes over and it belongs to him.’
‘Not always...’ Sarah frowned, because her uncle had tried to control her and failed. ‘If a woman has a fortune and is strong enough and clever enough, she may control it herself.’
Francesca was silent, as if absorbing this knowledge.
Sarah hesitated, then, ‘My father was not a poor man, Francesca, and what he had he secured to me in his will. It remains mine even if I marry.’
‘Why do you work as a governess if you have some money of your own?’
‘Because it suits me. I have done other things—but I wanted a change of scenery and...I came here on a whim, but when I met you and John I knew I wanted to stay.’
Sarah took a deep breath as she waited for the girl’s reaction. She had told her as much as she dare and felt better for it. Francesca did not know the whole truth, but Sarah no longer felt so guilty over deceiving her.
Francesca looked at her curiously. ‘You’re not like any governess I’ve had before.’ She tipped her head to one side. ‘Do you have a secret, Sarah?’
‘Yes, there is something—but I would rather you did not tell your uncle, because he might send me away if he knew.’
‘Are you in trouble?’
‘I am hiding from a man who is trying to trap me into marriage. I do not like him, but my family thinks it a good marriage. I came here to avoid him while I consider what I should do.’
Francesca’s gaze narrowed. ‘You’re not truly Hester Goodrum, are you?’
‘My name is Sarah Hardcastle,’ Sarah said. ‘Hester wanted to get married. I gave her a little money and exchanged places with her. Do you think me very dreadful to have deceived you?’
‘No, I think you are amazing.’ Francesca looked thoughtful. ‘Lord Myers would send you packing if he knew—and Grandfather would not be pleased, but I want you to stay. You tell us the truth instead of making up lies to protect us from what we want to know.’
‘I suppose I do have different ideas.’ Sarah looked at her awkwardly. ‘Do you feel compelled to tell your uncle? I know you ought, but if you do I must leave.’
‘It will be our secret,’ Francesca promised. ‘I shall not tell John, because he would be sure to let it out. My uncle may be angry when he discovers the truth.’
‘I have told myself that if I give you a proper education I am doing no harm.’
Francesca laughed. ‘I do not care who you are, Sarah. I do not think you mean us any harm—and I want you to stay. You are my friend.’
‘Yes, I should like to be that,’ Sarah said. She glanced at the little silver watch pinned to her gown. The time was getting on. ‘We’d better return or we shall be late for the games.’
‘Yes.’ Francesca’s eyes sparkled with mischief. ‘I shall enjoy keeping your secret, Sarah—it’s fun.’
Sarah smiled. When Francesca had guessed so much she’d felt compelled to tell her the truth and was glad she need not lie to at least one member of the household—but was she setting a bad example by encouraging her pupil to keep secrets from her uncle?
Perhaps she ought to confess the whole to Lord Myers and leave the decision to him—yet the house was so beautiful and she’d already become fond of her pupils.
Surely she could not harm people she wanted only to help?
They returned to the house, speaking only occasionally. Francesca was deep in thought and Sarah had her own thoughts to keep her busy. Being a governess had seemed such a simple matter, but it was no such thing. Sarah had no training to guide her and she had used
her own instincts, her own experience, to answer Francesca’s natural questions—but had she exceeded her authority? Had she perhaps put ideas into the girl’s head that her grandfather and other ladies might think wrong for a young lady of quality?
Sarah was independent because of her father’s will, which had given her complete control of her fortune and his business empire. Had he willed it so that her uncle had become her guardian she did not think she could have borne her life, for she would have been hedged about by convention and would not have dared to voice her opinions as freely as she did. Was she harming Francesca’s chances by teaching her to be as free in her thoughts?
* * *
The sound of laughter shattered her more serious thoughts. When they came upon Lord Myers, John and two of the footmen playing with an oval-shaped ball on the green, Sarah was intrigued, for she had not seen such a rough game before.
She watched as John caught the ball and then ran off with it, only to be pursued by his uncle, who tackled him and brought him down. John managed to pass the ball to one of the footmen, who took it and ran while the second footman tried to stop him. He was unable to and John gave a shout of joy as he threw himself down at a certain spot and touched the ground with the ball.
‘A try. We scored a try,’ he said. ‘Well done, Jenkins. Well done.’
‘Yes, good show.’ Lord Myers applauded. He turned and saw the ladies, frowning for a moment before turning to John. ‘I think we should play cricket now so that Miss Goodrum and Francesca can join us.’
John agreed and one of the footmen started preparing the wicket. Francesca joined Lord Myers’s side and Sarah joined Jenkins and John. Apparently, Jenkins was as good at the game as at the earlier one and he was elected to bowl at Lord Myers.
Sarah had no idea what game they had been playing when she arrived with Francesca, but knew the game of cricket and was happy to field. She was forced to run after balls that went into the shrubbery several times until she suddenly saw it coming straight at her, put out a hand and caught it.
‘Out. You’re out, Uncle Rupert,’ John crowed. ‘Now it’s Francesca’s turn and then Mason’s. We’ll soon have you out, won’t we, Sarah?’
‘Yes, certainly,’ Sarah agreed with a smile for his enthusiasm.
However, Francesca played well and scored five runs before Jenkins caught her. Mason took his turn and proved to be a clever batsman; it was some minutes before he became too adventurous and was run out for twenty-five.
A tray was brought out by one of the maids then and they all sat on blankets on the grass until John’s team went in to bat. Sarah had enjoyed her glass of barley water and was on her feet again when Lord Myers came over to her.
‘I should like to speak to you in the library before you go up, Miss Goodrum.’ His expression was grim and Sarah’s heart caught. He was angry, she was sure of it and could not for the life of her think what she had done.
Surely he had not discovered her true identity?
Chapter Five (#ufeff8085-7298-5e54-93e5-cf6e726fbba8)
Sarah followed behind the others as they all trooped into the house. The tea ceremony had been dispensed with for the day since they’d all enjoyed cool drinks on the lawn and no one was hungry. Sarah would have liked to escape to her room to tidy herself, but a look from Lord Myers sent her straight to the library. He followed her in and closed the door behind him. One look at his face made her catch her breath.
‘What is this I hear about your lesson this morning, Miss Goodrum? Can it be right that you condoned the behaviour of a maid who was dismissed for immorality—and did you really give Francesca books that described the procreation of children?’
‘We were talking about poetry and Francesca happened to say that a man could let a woman down. I hadn’t realised how innocent she was and I thought it better she should know the truth.’
‘And John—is he old enough to hear it like that?’
‘I did not explain anything in detail and he seemed to know more than Francesca. I gave her books on anatomy, but tried to explain about feelings and the consequences of being carried away by them.’
His gaze narrowed. ‘What kind of books did you deem suitable for a young woman of sixteen?’
‘They have pictures, which show the workings of both the male and female body, and explain about childbirth and...the rest of it.’
‘And you think that suitable reading for a young lady of quality?’
‘It is better she should know than go to her wedding night in ignorance, wouldn’t you say? We talked further on our walk and I was careful to impress on her the consequences of having...intimate relations before one is married.’
‘Good grief!’ Lord Myers seemed stunned for a moment. He ran his fingers through his thick dark hair, his grey eyes wintry. ‘I was told you were an unusual governess and you certainly are, Miss Goodrum.’
‘Would you prefer I’d lied? Would you have Francesca ignorant of the facts of life? She will know now precisely why she ought not to give in to the persuasion of rakish men—and what may happen if she does. She will also be more prepared for her wedding night.’
‘You take my breath away.’
Sarah swallowed hard, her hands turned inwards, the palms sweating. ‘Forgive me. I did what I thought was right. I know some ladies might think I was too direct...’
‘A great many men would feel the same. Such revelations would undoubtedly have led to instant dismissal in most households.’
‘I did not intend it to be part of the lesson, it just happened. I realise that convention decrees that these things remain hidden from a young woman—but I think it unfair that girls should marry without the faintest idea of what to expect. In some cases the shock may damage their marriage. Besides, most girls hear it from a servant rather than their mother. John had some garbled version from a stable lad and I thought it best to be open.’
‘Yes, I see that...’ Lord Myers was staring at her. The heat in his eyes seemed to burn her skin. ‘Well, it is over now and perhaps no harm has been done. I would ask you not to indoctrinate your charges with your radical ideas too often, Miss Goodrum.’
‘No, of course not—though I feel Francesca’s mother would have told her the facts of life by now had she lived.’
‘In a rather different way and not in front of her brother, I imagine.’
‘Yes, perhaps that is true. John did not seem surprised or particularly interested. I imagine he’s heard more in the stables than he heard from me.’
‘And that is to be regretted,’ Lord Myers said. ‘The language of the grooms is something most boys learn, but it must be tempered with proper explanation so that he understands what it means to be a gentleman. He must learn where the dividing line comes between taking one’s pleasure and guarding one’s honour and that of a lady.’
‘Yes, of course. It is a good thing that you came here, sir. He very much enjoyed himself this afternoon.’
‘I have decided that in future I shall take over John’s lessons. I do not disagree that Francesca should be prepared for life—and she will be aware of the consequences, as you say—but John needs a firm hand.’
‘I am sorry you feel I have let him down, my lord.’ Sarah’s cheeks were stinging for she felt herself at fault, though in her opinion she’d done nothing to merit such censure.
‘No harm has been done that a few lessons with me cannot put right. We shall continue to have games or other pastimes that we share, Miss Goodrum, but I no longer want John to join you in the mornings.’
‘As you wish, sir.’ Sarah stood stiffly, her hands in front of her. She felt his censure unfair and yet understood his point of view. John did need male guidance and would do better not to gain his knowledge of the world via the stables. ‘May I go now? I should like to write some letters before I change for the evening.’
‘Yes, you may go,’ he said, then, as she walked to the door, ‘Wait a moment, Sarah—I did not wish to censure you. I felt it my duty after what John told me.’
Sarah turned to look back at him. There was no hint of tears in her eyes, though she could feel them inside. ‘You were doing your duty, sir. If I failed in mine, I am sorry.’
She went out and closed the door before he could answer, hearing him curse as she did so. She was feeling subdued as she walked up to her room. Her first day had seemed to go well, but clearly she had made mistakes and aroused Lord Myers’s disapproval—and that hurt. It hurt more than she would have imagined.
What he would think if he knew of her deception she dared not think. No doubt he would believe his opinion of her as some kind of adventuress thoroughly vindicated.
* * *
At dinner that evening Sarah wore her same gown. She had no other evening gown suitable and would not have dared to venture downstairs in it if she had. She had already aroused doubts and suspicions in Lord
Myers’s mind. Next he would be thinking her a courtesan or some such thing. She did her best to seem natural and held her head high, answering any questions that came her way, but keeping her opinions to herself. Even when Lord Myers mentioned the Regent and Francesca asked if it was true that he had been married to Maria Fitzherbert, she refrained from joining the conversation until directly addressed.
‘Well, I think it was very unfair of him if he did,’ Francesca said when Lord Myers merely shrugged and said he didn’t know. ‘What do you think, Sarah?’
‘In any other case I would say it was wrong and that she had a right to be upheld as his wife—but because of the law about royal marriages it may not have been a true one. I do not know the truth of the matter.’
‘If he did not truly marry her, he tricked her into being his mistress.’
‘Francesca.’ Lord Myers glared at Sarah. ‘This is not the right subject for the dinner table. Please refrain from discussing this in mixed company. You may speak to Miss Goodrum in private on the matter if you wish.’
Francesca blushed and Sarah threw Lord Myers an angry glance. He was taking a moral stance that was hardly necessary. Such things were often discussed openly in society, though rarely in mixed company and not before children or innocent girls. He was perhaps thinking of John, for he had decided to mentor him on matters of morality. Now Sarah saw her own fault in being too easy with Francesca and looked down at her plate.
As Francesca would have protested, she reached out to touch her hand. ‘Later, my dear. Lord Myers is right on this occasion.’
He threw a speaking glance at her across the table. Francesca saw it and subsided into silence. She did not speak again until John was sent to bed and they were alone in the drawing room, waiting for Lord Myers to join them.
‘Are you in trouble with Uncle Rupert because of what you told me about love this morning?’
‘Perhaps I should have been more wary—waited to explain until we were alone. John is young and impressionable after all.’
‘Nonsense! He knows far more than I do. We talked about everything when we were alone, but there were things he wouldn’t say. He said it wasn’t fit for a girl’s ears.’
‘Lord Myers is afraid he may have heard things in the stable that may give him the wrong idea about such things. We are to have our lessons alone in future.’
‘That’s so unfair of him. It wasn’t your fault. You are the only person who has ever treated me as a woman—the only one to tell either of us the truth.’
‘A conventional governess would not have done so. She might have given you some information in private—and perhaps it is what I should have done. Well, it is not my decision to bar John from our lessons, but I am sorry if it upsets you. I believe in speaking my mind—but it is not always wise to do so in company, especially at the dinner table.’
‘No, I see that—but it was just us, family...’ Francesca stared at her. ‘Are you crying?’
‘No, of course not.’ Sarah blinked away the wetness that had unaccountably come to her eyes. ‘Do you truly think of me as your family?’
‘You’re the sister I never had.’ Francesca smiled at her. ‘She would have told me the things I needed to know—especially when she was married. It’s silly the way they hide things from unmarried girls, isn’t it? How can we make a sensible choice for a husband if we don’t understand what it means to be married?’
‘Oh, my dear,’ Sarah said and was suddenly amused. ‘You are supposed to enjoy your Season and have fun—and you would normally ask your mama what she felt about the gentleman you liked. She would give you her advice.’
‘Will you be my chaperon when we go to London? Please, Sarah. I would rather it was you than someone I didn’t know.’
‘You hardly know me—though I feel as if I’ve known you always. I doubt if I would be thought suitable. You need someone of more consequence. Besides, I shall have to leave you before then.’
‘You won’t let Uncle Rupert drive you away?’
‘You mustn’t take against him because he corrected you at table, Francesca.’
‘I shall hate him if he sends you away. I’m going to tell Grandfather that I want you as my chaperon when he comes down at Christmas.’
‘We’ll think about that later,’ Sarah said, her throat tight with emotion. Francesca was becoming so special to her and the idea of being her chaperon appealed, but of course it was not possible. Sarah could not enter society as Miss Goodrum and, as Miss Hardcastle, she would not be acceptable to the girl’s guardians. ‘We have lots of time before then. I must teach you so many things—and the first is to think before you speak. Whatever we may discuss in private, and whatever your opinion of a situation or fact, it is sometimes better not to repeat it to others, especially in company.’
‘Oh, you do not need to tell me. I was so mortified I could have died.’ Francesca turned to her and hugged her. ‘You mustn’t be hurt, Sarah. If Rupert is mean to you, I’ll tell John to put something horrid in his bed.’
Sarah laughed. ‘Now that you must never do, dearest. Besides, it might result in the cane for John and you would not want that. Lord Myers takes his duty seriously and I think you must both respect his wishes.’
‘I was looking at those books you gave me. Is that what really happens? It looks awful. I can’t see why anyone would want to do anything like that...’
‘I think that feelings come into it,’ Sarah said with a smile, but then the door opened and she shook her head. ‘You might wish to go up now, dearest, and I shall follow.’
Francesca nodded. She approached Lord Myers and bobbed a curtsy. ‘Goodnight, sir. I am sorry if I offended you earlier.’
‘Good grief, child. I was not offended, but your reputation might suffer in company. I wanted you to be aware.’
‘Yes, Uncle Rupert. Sarah has explained that I may ask her anything in private, but not speak so openly in front of others.’
‘Good. Run along now. I wish to speak to Miss Goodrum.’
Francesca threw a speaking look at Sarah and went out.
‘Miss Goodrum—’ Lord Myers stood looking at her uncertainly. ‘Will you honour me with a game of chess this evening? You do play chess, I hope?’
‘Yes, my lord. My father taught me. I played often with him.’
‘I thought that might be the case. Will you oblige me?’
‘If you wish.’
‘I do wish. I also want to apologise for my display of bad manners earlier. I did not intend to squash the child—and I thank you for putting things right.’
‘It was a misunderstanding all round, my lord. I do not think it will happen again.’
‘I suppose I cannot prevail on you to call me Rupert in private?’
Sarah hesitated, then, ‘I hardly think it wise, sir. If I could add uncle I would do so, as the others do, but I cannot—and so I feel that it would not be right.’
‘Make it sir, then. I cannot stand to be my lorded all the time. I would even prefer Captain Myers, as I was known in my army days.’
‘Yes, sir. You were in the army?’ Sarah asked politely, as she set out the beautiful ivory-and-ebony chessboard with delicate carved figures. ‘I thought perhaps you might have been. My father always said it was easy to tell a military man by his bearing.’
‘Indeed? I think I should have liked to know your father, Sarah.’
‘Yes, you might. I think he might have liked you—he was very direct and to the point and honest.’
‘Like you, I imagine?’
‘I resemble my father in some ways. I cannot say all.’
Sarah was acutely aware of her lies. She was beginning to hate them and wished that she dare tell him the truth—explain why it had seemed such a good idea and why she wanted to stay here as Francesca’s governess. Yet he would not understand. He would revile her for lying and worst of all he would dismiss her and install a new governess in her place.
Even though she had made mistakes on her first day, Sarah felt that she was helping Francesca. She had gained the girl’s confidence and affection, too. It would hurt her if Sarah left—and she might become sullen, taking against Lord Myers and the new governess.
Sarah was doing no harm. She would be careful in future to temper every opinion she gave with the counter-argument and explain why Francesca must conform to what society expected even though she might disagree privately, but she could not desert her.
She dismissed her qualms and brought her mind to the game. Lord Myers showed his mettle by his first few moves, but she was with him.
* * *
Sarah had learned from a chess master and she was well able to keep up her end. By the end of an hour she had beaten him twice and been beaten herself once when an early move on his part had sealed her fate almost from the beginning.
At the end of the third game, she stood up.
‘I believe I should leave you now, sir. Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight, Sarah,’ he replied. He was on his feet, standing so close to her that she could scarcely breathe. Her heart was beating fast and she felt the heat start low in her abdomen and sweep through her. She was being drawn to him like a moth to a flame. In another moment she would be in his arms. He would kiss her and then...
She stepped back, breaking the fine thread that had bound them.
‘I should go.’
‘Perhaps you will let me try for revenge another evening.’
‘Yes, of course, if you wish.’
With that she walked to the door and went out. He made no move to stop her or call her back, though she thought she heard a muffled groan as she closed the door behind her.
* * *
Alone in her room, Sarah closed the door, locked it and then stood with her back against it. She felt weak and knew that she had escaped by a hairsbreadth from a fate that was described as worse than death—another few seconds and he would have seduced her. She would have allowed it. She had wanted it, longed for his kiss—and what came after.
It was those feelings she’d warned Francesca of—feelings that would lead to her downfall. Even as Miss Sarah Hardcastle she would not have expected a marriage proposal from Lord Myers, unless he needed a fortune, of course. Somehow she did not see him as lacking wealth or the determination to make it if he had none. He was not the kind of man to need a Cit’s daughter as a wife.
Sarah was well aware that as the daughter of a mill owner she would not be thought suitable to marry into the best families—unless of course they happened to be desperate.
Sarah was trembling as she undressed and dived beneath the sheets. The awful thing was that she suspected she would enjoy being seduced by Lord Myers—and that would be stupid.
‘Foolish, foolish, foolish!’
Yet the temptation to remain, to let him kiss her and do what he would on the rug before the fire had been strong. Why did he have this effect on her, something that no other man had before now?
She pounded her pillow. Before this, Sarah had resisted every advance, deflected every unwanted offer with ease—but something told her that if she stayed here she was in danger of succumbing to her wretched feelings. Even worse than being seduced was the fear that she might learn to care for him—and that must lead to terrible unhappiness.
‘No, I shall not. I refuse to care about him,’ she whispered and closed her eyes on the tears as they insisted on falling. ‘I am not so silly as to care for a man who merely wants to seduce me.’
In future she would have to be constantly on her guard. Friendly but cool, even aloof.
She would be the perfect governess. In private, she would be open and friendly with Francesca, but whenever Lord Myers was around she would keep her distance.
* * *
God damn it! Rupert groaned as the door shut behind her, leaving him with the scent of her perfume in his nostrils and the want of her surging through his blood. What was it about Miss Hester Goodrum that had sent his senses haywire? He could hardly remember feeling such urgent lust before in his life. For a moment it had taken every last ounce of his strength to keep from dragging her into his arms, kissing her to within an inch of her life and carrying her to his bed.
His thoughts were outrageous and he knew it. If she was the governess she claimed to be, he would be doing her an extreme disservice and she did not deserve such treatment from him. Yet what if she were indeed an adventuress? There were things that did not sit well with her claim to be merely a governess—and why had she told Francesca to call her Sarah? Surely if her name was Hester a pet name would be Hetty or some such diminutive?
If she had been another man’s mistress, then she was fair game and he would be justified in hunting her down until she agreed to be his. It was odd, but he did not wish that to be the case. Indeed, he feared that her appeal would be tarnished if he discovered that she was a schemer and a liar.
Why would she come here if she were not what she professed to be? The question bothered him, chasing round in his mind like a puppy after its tail. He could see no advantage to it—unless she hoped to seduce her employer, but she could have hardly hoped for that since the marquess was nearly three times her age and seldom visited his country house.
Was she hiding from someone or something? Had she been accused of theft or worse? Lurid thoughts chased through his mind—had she murdered her protector, stolen her employer’s heirlooms or been snubbed by society?
A smile touched his mouth for he did not see Sarah as a fugitive from the law. Yet he would swear her name was not Hester Goodrum, nor had she been a governess until recently. So where was the real Hester and why had they changed places?
Yes, of course, it was what must have happened! Rupert felt certain of it, though he could see no reason for the masquerade. Sarah did not strike him as a
society miss who would do something like this for a jest or a wager. No, she had a perfectly good reason for what she was doing.
If that turned out to be the case, she was a consummate liar and Rupert hated liars. His mouth thinned. In his experience women lied without thought for the harm they caused or the pain they inflicted.
He determined that he would discover the truth and unmask her and then—then he would show her no mercy. He would offer her an ultimatum: become his mistress or risk exposure and the scorn it would bring.
For a moment in his anger he dwelled on the prospect with pleasure, but then the picture faded and his expression hardened. He had never forced a woman into his bed and it would bring only a hollow victory. No, he would put the woman out of his head and, if he discovered she had indeed been lying to them, he would dismiss her.
Sarah Goodrum, or whatever her name was, would discover that she had made a mistake when she decided to try to fool him. By the time he’d finished with her she would wish she’d never been born.
* * *
It had rained during the night, which meant the grass would be wet if she chose to walk first thing. Sarah decided to forgo her exercise. Perhaps the afternoon would be warm and dry. In the meantime she would take an early breakfast and then spend some time in the library, preparing lessons for that day. She would try to be more conventional, and perhaps in the afternoon, if it were still damp, they could play the pianoforte. Francesca had told her she played, but needed help to achieve a higher standard. Since it was one of Sarah’s chief pleasures and something she did well, she had hopes of achieving at least this much for her pupil.
* * *
She was the first in the breakfast room and had eaten when the door opened to admit Lord Myers. He looked at her coldly, his manner markedly reserved as he perused the chafing-dishes and then brought his plate to sit opposite her.
‘Good morning, Miss Goodrum. I trust you slept well?’
‘Yes, sir. I took my breakfast early since it was still wet out.’ She pushed back her chair and stood, hesitating a moment. Why had he changed so much since the previous evening? He seemed a man of many moods.
‘There is no need to leave on my account.’ He frowned at her.
‘I had finished, sir. If you will excuse me?’
‘Yes, of course. You should prepare your lessons for the morning—a little more carefully today, if you please.’
‘Yes, my lord.’
Tears stung behind her eyes, but she gave no sign as she lifted her head and swept from the room like a queen.
How dare he speak to her that way? For a moment anger rolled over the hurt, but then she remembered that he was here in place of her employer and had every right to address her as he chose. He could send her away if he wished.
Sarah bit her lower lip. She had no idea why he was angry with her. The previous evening she had sensed that he was on the verge of making love to her—so why had he changed so suddenly?
Obviously, he was a law unto himself. He was an aristocrat and had no interest in the feelings of a lowly governess—any more than he would in the daughter of a Cit, even a wealthy mill owner’s daughter.
Sarah would be a fool to allow herself to care for a man like that—even if one of his sensual looks could make her feel weak at the knees and keep her sleepless in her bed.
She had made up her mind to keep her distance during a restless night and his manner this morning had made that easier. If they both kept their distance, except when in the children’s presence, everything would be fine. She would conquer this temporary weakness and her heart would remain untouched.
Sarah would spend a few months in retreat from her own life and do what she could for Francesca—John, too, if he needed her, though he seemed to have taken to his mentor and hung on Lord Myers’s every word. She would stay for as long as she could, but if life became unbearable she would leave.
Chapter Six (#ufeff8085-7298-5e54-93e5-cf6e726fbba8)
The rain had lasted for almost a week, making it impossible to hold the picnic John had wanted so badly. However, he spent most of his time either fencing, studying or riding with Lord Myers and seemed well pleased with the change. Francesca had told Sarah that he was learning to shoot.
‘I hardly see him now,’ she complained as they closed the pianoforte after an hour spent most enjoyably. ‘I am so glad you are my friend, Sarah. I do not know what I should do if you were not here.’
‘I dare say John will seek your company when he is ready. You must understand that this is the first time he has received the attention of a man like Lord Myers. He must feel pleased, excited and even flattered by it. After being neglected by his tutors he is suddenly of importance.’
‘How understanding you are,’ Francesca said and got up, wandering over to the window. ‘Did you know that Uncle Rupert has decided to employ a dancing master for me? He is French and should be here any day now.’
‘Oh...’ Sarah bit her lower lip. Lord Myers had neglected to tell her, but then, she’d hardly seen him all week. At dinner he spoke to Francesca and John, but, other than asking if she were well and had what she needed, he had not directed a whole sentence at her for seven days. ‘I had thought he might teach you himself.’
‘He said he had considered it, but felt himself unable to convey the finer points. I think he finds that John takes up most of his time—and he has friends. You know he has dined out twice this week and he spent most of yesterday afternoon with them.’
‘Yes, I dare say he wishes for some company of his own age, men he can converse with,’ Sarah agreed. ‘John was out with the groom all afternoon. I hear he is doing very well with his new pony.’
‘Yes. He finds Blackie much more of a challenge than dear old Dobbie was, which was why Uncle Rupert purchased the pony for him.’
‘Yes, that was thoughtful.’
Sarah could not fault Lord Myers for the way in which he was directing the youth’s studies, giving him enough sports and activities to make the written work acceptable. She had paused outside the marquess’s study on one occasion and heard Lord Myers reading aloud in Latin. Every now and then he’d stopped to ask John what he understood and to explain the story. His blend of authority and charm had carried John along and the boy seemed completely under his spell.
Francesca was respectful of the man she addressed as Uncle Rupert, even though he wasn’t actually her uncle, but some sort of cousin.
‘Rupert thought it better if I called him uncle. He says it is a matter of keeping up a respectable household that will give no one a chance to gossip about us. I told him that as long as I had you as a chaperon no one could possibly imagine there was anything improper in our domestic arrangements.’
Sarah resisted the temptation to ask what he’d replied. Since that night when they had played chess alone he had been reserved, even cold towards her, and she had followed his lead. It was better this way than allowing herself to imagine there might be something warm and exciting between them. If she had thought so a week ago, she did not think it now. She knew that it was the only way she could remain as Francesca’s governess, but there was an ache in her heart that she could not quite banish.
Sarah stood up and joined her pupil by the window. The afternoon was pleasantly warm with just a slight breeze.
‘I have some letters I should like to go first thing in the morning. I think I shall walk down to the Royal Oak and leave them. There might be something for me.’
‘One of the footmen will take the letters in the morning and they bring back anything that has come for us.’
‘Yes, I know, but I want these to go off—besides, I should have to rely on Lord Myers to frank them for me and I would prefer to pay some sixpences to send them myself. I was wondering if you would like to walk with me?’
‘I think I would rather stay here and practise my music, if you do not mind?’ Francesca looked at her. ‘You will be back in time for tea. Perhaps Uncle Rupert and John will join us today.’
‘Yes, perhaps. I must go up and put on my bonnet. I shall not linger, but walk straight there and back.’
Sarah left her pupil sitting at the pianoforte and the sound of music followed her up the stairs. Francesca was still playing when she returned and left the house by a side door. She had the piece almost right, but there was one passage that she rushed every time. Sarah would show her how it should be played another day.
It was the first time she’d gone for a walk alone since it had rained. The air was fresh with the scents of early summer and the hedgerows were bright with flowers, wild roses twining amongst them and bringing the countryside alive with colour.
* * *
She had reached the village without incident and entered the inn, having noticed a horse with a white mark on its rump. She thought it might have belonged to Lord Myers, but wasn’t sure. If he were here, she hoped they would not meet. It would be embarrassing if he thought she’d sought him out. As far as she’d known, he’d ridden over to a neighbour’s house on some business.
She was met by the host’s wife, who took her letters and asked her for four sixpences, to cover the cost of sending them post.
‘It would be less if they waited for the mail coach, miss, but if you want them sent urgently it must be two shillings.’
‘That is perfectly all right,’ Sarah said and handed over her two shillings. ‘Do you have any letters for Miss Hardcastle care of Miss Hester Goodrum?’
‘Yes, as a matter of fact one arrived by post this afternoon.’ The innkeeper’s wife looked at her curiously. ‘You’re Miss Goodrum, governess to the children up at Cavendish Park, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, I am.’ Sarah saw the curiosity in her eyes. ‘Miss Hardcastle is...well, I am accepting letters for her.’
‘Oh, well, I suppose it’s all right, as it says “care of”,’ the woman said a little doubtfully. ‘I normally like to be sure a letter is given to the right person.’
‘I assure you I am the right person to receive this letter—and any others that are similarly addressed.’
‘Is something wrong, Miss Goodrum?’
Sarah jumped and glanced round as Lord Myers spoke. ‘No. I am just collecting some letters. Everything is as it should be.’ She took the letter from the woman’s reluctant hand as she seemed paralysed by Lord Myers’s arrival and was staring at him, seemingly mesmerised.
Sarah slipped the letter, which was quite a thick packet, into her reticule, but she feared that Lord Myers might have caught sight of the wording of the address before she could do so.
‘Is Francesca not with you?’ he asked, walking to the inn door and opening it for her. He walked out into the yard, standing for a moment in the sunshine as she hesitated.
‘Francesca wished to practise the music she is learning. I had some letters I wished to post.’
‘Do you write many letters, Miss Goodrum?’
‘Yes, several.’
‘To your family? Or are you seeking another post?’
‘I am not seeking another post at the moment. I have no reason to leave—have I?’
‘Only you can know that, Miss Goodrum.’
Sarah hesitated, then, ‘I understand you have engaged a dancing master for Francesca?’
‘Actually, her grandfather did so himself. I wrote and said I thought it might be a good thing and he sent word that he had seen to it. I heard this morning and told Francesca. I believe he is French—Monsieur Andre Dupree, I think he is called.’
‘Ah, I see. I had thought you might teach her yourself?’
‘I decided it might be wiser to employ a dancing master—for various reasons. Besides, most of my time is taken up with tutoring John—and there is estate business.’
‘You have been busy, I know.’
‘Yes.’ His gaze narrowed. ‘I should be returning to the house. My business here is done—and John should have had his riding lessons for the day.’
‘Yes.’ She hesitated, then, ‘Francesca wondered if you would both join us for tea today. I think she misses her brother.’
‘Yes, things have not quite gone to plan. We must have our picnic before the fine weather disappears again. Have you written the invitations?’
‘They need only the day and date. I was waiting for your approval.’
‘Then make them for this Friday. We must hope that the weather stays fine. I am told some of the strawberries will be ready for picking and that might amuse both the children and our guests.’
‘It will not amuse Francesca to be called a child. She will soon be seventeen.’
‘Not for a few months. I shall try to remember.’ He inclined his head to her. ‘I shall not keep you, Miss Goodrum—if that is your name...’
With that he walked away, leaving Sarah to stare after him in dismay. It was the first time he’d talked to her for a week, but she could not deceive herself; his manner was decidedly cool towards her. She was not sure if he was angry or whether he simply did not trust her.
Shrugging off her painful thoughts, she walked on towards the house. She would read her letter later, alone in her room. Sarah had recognised the hand and knew it came from the agent who oversaw her mills. Since he had written extensively there might be a problem.
Sarah sighed. For the past few years she’d dealt with the problems as they arose, but it had been pleasant not to have to think of them for the past week. It might be nice to be married and leave business to her husband, but it would have to be the right man for the sake of all those who relied on her for their living. Sir Roger would squander her money and care nothing for her people. Until she found someone she could trust and like enough to marry, she would have to carry on—but her agents must manage without her for a while. She would not leave Francesca in the lurch unless she was forced.
* * *
What was she up to now? Rupert was thoughtful as he put his horse to a canter. His business that afternoon had concerned the governess and he wondered why he had not mentioned it to her. Something in her manner had been guilty and it had made him hold back the news he thought might be interesting for her. She had definitely hidden that letter and so quickly that he hardly caught sight of the lettering, but he was sure it had been addressed to someone care of Miss Goodrum.
He’d sensed a mystery from the start and now he was certain that she was hiding something. Could she be collecting letters for Francesca? Had the young girl formed an attachment before he arrived, one she now wished to hide from him? Rupert frowned. Francesca was surely too young to have a lover—would her governess be complicit in such a deceit?
Or was it simply that Miss Goodrum was not what she claimed to be, as he’d suspected almost from the start? Why had she lied about her identity?
The mystery deepened and he decided he had been right to keep his distance these past few days. To allow himself to like the governess rather more than was sensible would be to invite all manner of problems.
Whatever she was hiding was bound to be unsavoury. He felt disappointed to discover that she was almost certainly the adventuress he’d thought her at the start. She might seem innocent, delightful and charming, but she was undoubtedly playing a part for his sake—to deceive him, or to ensnare him?
* * *
The thoughts had gone round and round in his head as he had ridden rode home. Dismounting, he entered the house and immediately encountered John, who was full of his afternoon’s outing. The youth’s enthusiasm put the mystery of the letter from Rupert’s thoughts. He told John to wash his hands and meet him in the drawing room for tea, taking the stairs two at a time in his haste not to be late.
Rupert must simply continue to keep the governess in her proper place for all their sakes. If she were truly innocent, his need to seduce her could only bring her to ruin—and if she were a courtesan it would lead to distress for Francesca.
Yet he lay restless in his bed each night, thinking of her in her chaste bed and burning with need that drove him mad. He wanted her as he’d wanted no other—and he could not put her out of his head.
Oh, damn the woman! He would not allow her beneath his skin. No woman had been allowed to ruffle his feelings in this way for years and he would not give this enchanting minx the satisfaction of knowing how she had affected him the night they’d played chess together.
* * *
‘Oh, good,’ Francesca exclaimed as she saw her brother and Rupert waiting for her in the drawing room. ‘I’m so pleased you are to join us for tea. It isn’t the same when you don’t.’
‘Blackie jumped the fence at Three Mile Bottom.’ John’s enthusiasm carried him away. ‘You should come out with me one afternoon.’
‘Yes, I should like that—but I’d like Sarah to come as well. I’m not sure we have a suitable horse for her.’
‘As a matter of fact—’ Rupert broke off as Sarah entered. She was wearing a plain, dark-grey gown, very suitable for a governess, but somehow managed to make it look as if a lady of quality was wearing it. ‘I bought one this afternoon. So you will all be able to ride together.’
‘Did you hear that, Sarah?’ Francesca turned to her with a smile of delight. ‘Uncle Rupert bought a horse you could ride. You will ride with us, won’t you?’
‘Oh... Yes, of course.’ Sarah smiled. ‘Sorry, my mind was elsewhere. Did you say the horse was bought for me to ride?’ She looked at Rupert in surprise. ‘That was extremely thoughtful of you, sir.’
‘Francesca wanted you to be able to ride with her. She said you were accustomed to riding when at your home—is that true?’
‘Yes, I ride whenever I have the time.’ Sarah’s cheeks were warm as she took her seat. ‘Shall you ring for tea, Francesca?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Francesca did so and looked at her enquiringly. ‘Is something wrong, Sarah? You look worried.’
‘I had a letter that was a little worrying, a family matter,’ Sarah said. ‘Forgive me if my mind wanders. It was something of a shock to me.’
‘No one is ill, I hope?’ Rupert asked, his gaze narrowed.
‘Not exactly. There is a family problem, however. I hope to avoid it, but I may have to leave for a while should things develop.’
‘Oh, no, I don’t want you to go,’ Francesca said instantly. ‘Please don’t—unless you have to, of course.’
‘I have no intention of it,’ Sarah replied and smiled at her. ‘I think the problem may be dealt with by a series of letters—but should it not, then I might be away for a week or two.’
‘Is there anything I may do to help?’ Rupert asked. ‘Any service I could perform for you?’
Sarah’s eyes moved to his face and for a moment she seemed to hesitate, but then, as the door opened to admit the maids with the tea trays, she shook her head. He waited until after the maids had retreated and then persisted.
‘We could speak later in private, if you wish?’
‘You are...kind,’ Sarah said and looked hesitant. ‘I believe I can deal with the matter myself for the moment.’
Rupert accepted a cup from Francesca’s hand and helped himself to rich fruitcake, which was always his favourite. He could see that the governess was more disturbed than she would say and his sense of frustration increased.
Was she in trouble or was her friend—the friend for whom she had received that letter? It had looked more like a packet and he was curious as to what was in it. He would be most interested in reading the contents of Sarah’s package.
‘Why don’t you all go riding in the morning?’ he suggested. ‘I think we might forget lessons for once. Miss Goodrum should get to know her horse and yours will suffer if you do not exercise the poor beast more, Francesca.’
‘Yes, let’s all go riding in the morning,’ John said, excited at the prospect. ‘You will come too, Uncle Rupert?’
‘Unfortunately, I have some things to attend to,’ he replied. ‘I may ride out and join you later, once it is finished.’
‘It would be pleasant to ride again,’ Sarah said and some of the anxiety seemed to leave her eyes. ‘Although I do not have a habit with me, unfortunately.’
‘I think there may be something in Mama’s trunks,’ Francesca replied and smiled at her. ‘You are not dissimilar in height and build and may make a few adjustments if they are needed.’
‘If we could look for it before dinner, I could make the alterations this evening,’ Sarah agreed. ‘Riding is such good exercise and I have felt its lack of late.’
Rupert felt pleased that he’d been able to help her in some small way, even though there was guilt at the back of his mind. With all the children out of the way he would have the opportunity to enter the governess’s room and make a brief search for that letter.
A part of his mind was horrified at the idea and yet the other was telling him that as her employer’s representative he had every right to discover what she was hiding.
* * *
‘It was so kind of you to purchase the horse for my use,’ Sarah said when she came down the next morning. She was wearing a borrowed habit, which had belonged to Francesca’s mother. Sarah had taken down the hem a little, but it was otherwise a reasonable fit. Although not fashionable or exactly Sarah’s style, it looked well enough. ‘It is a pity you cannot come with us. I think John was anxious to show you how much he has learned.’
Rupert looked into her clear eyes and felt his guilt deepen. It would be pleasant to ride with them and he almost gave in to temptation, but his suspicions needed to be answered.
‘Yes, well, perhaps my business need not take long. Which way do you intend to ride?’
‘Francesca said we might ride past the water meadows and come back through the village.’
‘Very well, perhaps I shall join you later on your ride.’
‘I do hope so,’ she said, smiled again and went to join the others. He heard the sound of voices and laughter outside as the grooms helped them to mount and the party set out.
Walking upstairs, Rupert fought down his rising sense of guilt. He paused outside the governess’s room, knocked and then entered. Looking round, he saw that it was very neat, the bed made and nothing out of place. Obviously, she was in the habit of keeping things tidy and did not make extra work for the maids.
He could see no sign of any papers. The desk that had been provided for her use was empty of letters or personal items, displaying only the inkwell and pen trays, also a pad for leaning one’s paper on. His heart thudding and a sick feeling in his stomach, Rupert walked to the desk. He had never done such a despicable thing in his life. Feeling like the worst sort of rogue, he picked up the pad and saw that the soft surface had indentations, but though he studied them for a moment he could not pick out any words. He hesitated, then opened the long top drawer. It was empty. Each of the first two drawers on the side was similarly unused, but in the third he found a small wooden box, which was obviously used to store papers and letters. It was locked.
Rupert glanced round the room. Where would the key be hidden—or did she have it with her? He considered making a search and then the enormity of what he was doing swept over him.
This was despicable! Miss Goodrum was entitled to her privacy and he was not behaving as a gentleman ought. If he wanted her confidence, he must earn it. Replacing the box, he closed the desk drawer and left the room. As he reached the end of the hall, he saw a maid approaching. She looked at him curiously, no doubt wondering what he was doing so far from his own rooms.
He would change into his riding breeches, walk down to the stables and go in search of his pupils and their governess.
* * *
Sarah had been pleasantly surprised in the mare she was given. It was a spirited creature and far superior to what she had expected might be offered to a mere governess. Lord Myers was clearly a good judge of horses and she was going to enjoy the experience.
She had spent some hours thinking before she was able to sleep the previous evening. Her agent had sent her a package containing several business matters, most of which she had managed to settle easily in a few words. The letter was lying unfinished in her writing box, because she had not been able to decide about what to do on the other matter.
Sam had told her that he had received an offer to purchase all her mills.
It comes from a solicitor, Miss Harding. He has not revealed the buyer’s name, but says that his client is well able to purchase all the mills and the price he is offering is far better than anything you’ve been offered before. My only hesitation in urging you to sell would be to do with his keeping his identity secret. There are certain men—rivals of your father—who might decide to either shut down the mills and sell off the property to reduce competition for their own trade or reduce wages and increase working hours. Your father was widely believed too generous and some of the mill owners thought that he had made it impossible for them to make the profits they wished, because key workers demanded the same rates as your father paid. However, I feel that while you have managed thus far you may find it hard to maintain the level of efficiency needed if you marry and have a family, as your father would have wished. Your husband might not have the same feeling for the workers as both you and your father have shown.
I await your decision as always,
Samuel Barnes
Sarah knew that the price offered was a good one. Perhaps not the full worth of the mills, but near enough to make it a viable proposition. It would be the easy way out for her, particularly since she had been wishing to make a change for a while. Had she been content with her life, she would not have felt the need to change places with Hester Goodrum.
However, coming here had made her see how pleasant a similar life might be. She would not wish to simply hand over everything to someone else. Even if she married, she would wish to be informed of all that was happening and to be consulted about any changes in the way things were run. It had come to her of late that in the right circumstances she could happily amuse herself with a family and friends, leaving business to her husband for the main part. If she were involved in the decision-making and consulted before the workers were put on short time—or, indeed, more were taken on, if the mill prospered—she did not need to be involved in the day-to-day running of the place.
Her uncle had always insisted she should take a husband and leave her business to him, but Sarah had felt compelled to keep her hands on the reins. She no longer felt as if she wished to spend all her life coping with the problems of running her father’s business empire and would be happy to hand much of it to another.
Yet she could not simply abandon her people and her principles to someone who might abuse them. Sarah was well aware that despite rumblings in Parliament, where the plight of mill workers and others in similar jobs had been debated, nothing of any consequence had been done to force the owners to treat their people decently. Women and even children worked in terrible conditions for long hours; they were given only a few minutes’ break to relieve themselves or drink some water and their mealtimes were restricted to a quarter of an hour in many cases. If they complained they were sent home and would be blacked by the other employers so that they found it impossible to get another job. The men fared little better and any that dared to speak out against the conditions might have to travel miles to find work to keep their families from starving. Sarah had recently taken in a family who had been thrown out of their home and refused work. Sam had told her that once Mr Arkwright discovered what she’d done, he would be very angry.
‘Matt Arkwright is a hard man, Miss Hardcastle. He fell out with your father over the wages he paid and they almost came to blows. He’ll not take kindly to you giving succour to a man he’s dismissed.’
‘If he does not like it, he must learn to live with it.’ Sarah had shrugged off her agent’s warning, but the next day she’d received a visit from Mr Arkwright. He had spent an hour haranguing her and left after issuing threats.
‘You’re a haughty piece, Miss Hardcastle, but you’ll come unstuck. You think your wealth entitles you to act like a lady and carry on with your head in the clouds, but one of these days you’ll go too far.’
‘I fail to see what business it is of yours whom I choose to employ, sir.’
‘We mine owners stick together. If you give these troublemakers an inch, they’ll take a yard. Before you know it, we’ll have rioting and people will get hurt. You’ve been warned, Miss Hardcastle. Think on it!’
Sarah had put the unpleasant scene from her mind. She did not think the man she’d employed was a troublemaker and had no intention of letting a rival owner tell her how to run her affairs. However, she now wondered if it was Matt Arkwright who had offered for the mills. She’d almost made up her mind to reject the offer, but if it was Arkwright she would have made herself an enemy.
Yet to allow him to destroy all her father had set out to do was unthinkable.
‘Isn’t it lovely out?’ Francesca asked, coming up beside her. ‘How do you like your mare?’
‘She is perfect. Very responsive,’ Sarah said. ‘John is ahead of us—shall we catch him up?’
‘Yes.’ Francesca did not immediately suit her actions to her words. ‘Are you still upset? You won’t have to leave us, will you?’
‘No, I shan’t leave you for a while,’ Sarah said. ‘Come on, let’s try them out...’
She touched her heels lightly to the mare’s flanks and set off in pursuit of John, who had ridden on with his groom at a faster pace. She would not let the problem of the mills upset her. Although this interlude could not last long, she was determined to make the most of it for as long as she could.
* * *
Rupert saw the group just ahead of him. He had set out after them, expecting that it might take some time to catch up, but obviously they had ambled along for much of the ride. They had separated out a little, John and the groom ahead and the two girls at the rear. He saw they were just about to set out in pursuit when something caught his eye. A man was watching them, and as Rupert watched he drew out a pistol and fired in their direction.
‘Look out!’ The warning made the rogue’s arm jerk. He turned, stared at Rupert, then set off at a run, disappearing into the trees. ‘Damn it!’
Rupert saw that the shot had caused one of the ladies to fall from her horse. He was tempted to pursue the rogue who had fired at them, but knew the ladies came first. Swearing to himself, he rode up to them, his feelings mixed as he saw it was Francesca on the ground. Relieved that Sarah was all right, he was off his horse and kneeling over Francesca in an instant.
‘Are you all right? Did that rogue wing you?’
‘No...’ Francesca accepted his hand and stood up. ‘The shot went wide of us, but my horse reared and I slid off. I feel such an idiot. I should have managed to hang on.’
‘Not your fault,’ Rupert said. ‘Have you broken anything? Do you feel any pain?’
‘No, just a little bruised. I think my pride is hurt more than anything else. I thought I was a good horsewoman.’
‘So you are,’ Sarah assured her. ‘That poacher’s shot spooked your horse, that’s all. Anyone could have fallen off the way you did.’
‘Sarah is right,’ Rupert agreed. ‘You mustn’t blame yourself or your horse. Damned poacher! I would have gone after him, but I was concerned you might be hurt.’
‘No, I’m all right. I thought Grandfather’s keepers had scared off all the poachers.’
‘Apparently not this one,’ Rupert replied grimly. ‘I’ll have them double the watch. I know this isn’t technically a part of the estate, but it’s still private property. It belongs to Lord Henry James and he will have to be told. He will not want poachers on his estate.’
‘Lord James is hardly ever here,’ Francesca said. ‘I think he spends most of his time in London. However, I heard that his nephew, Sir Roger Grey, had come down to oversee the property for him for a little while.’
‘Sir Roger Grey?’ Sarah asked, looking at her oddly.
‘Yes, do you know him?’ Rupert asked, gaze narrowing as he saw the expression in her eyes.
‘Oh...yes, I may have met him once,’ Sarah admitted, a flush in her cheeks. ‘If Lord James is often away, I dare say he does not bother about protecting his game as he ought.’
‘Well, perhaps he should. I must ride over and speak to his nephew about it. We cannot allow this kind of thing to continue. One of you might have been badly hurt,’ Rupert replied and frowned. ‘Are you able to ride, Francesca?’
‘Yes, of course,’ she said.
‘Up you get, then,’ Rupert said and dismounted. He gave her his hand and threw her up in the saddle, looking at her with approval. ‘That’s my good brave girl.’
‘I’ve fallen before. Please do not worry about me,’ Francesca said and looked at Sarah. ‘Are you all right? I thought the shot was nearer you than me.’
‘It passed quite close. I felt the wind on my cheek,’ Sarah said and Rupert looked at her again.
‘Has it shaken you?’
‘No, not particularly, though it was not a pleasant experience. I am glad you arrived when you did, Lord Myers.’
‘Indeed.’ He looked at her hard and saw something in her eyes. She didn’t think that shot had been an accident—and Rupert was damned sure it hadn’t, though he was prepared to let Francesca believe it. ‘The rogue saw me and ran. His arm jerked and that may have made his aim go astray.’
‘Was he aiming for a bird or a rabbit?’ Francesca asked. ‘There’s plenty of game in these meadows, but I should’ve thought poachers preferred to set traps.’
‘Some of them,’ Rupert said. ‘Shall we continue our ride? It is not likely to happen again. I think whoever it was will not do it again.’
‘I’m sure he won’t now that you are here,’ Sarah said. ‘It would be a shame to let him spoil our day and so we shan’t.’
‘Certainly not,’ Francesca said. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this and no poacher is going to put me off.’
John rode up to them and stared at his sister. ‘Are you all right, Fran? Who do you think was firing at Miss Goodrum?’
‘It was a poacher,’ Sarah said. ‘Just a foolish mistake.’
‘No. I saw him,’ John insisted. ‘I looked that way. He took his pistol out and fired at you, Sarah. I know he did. Why would anyone want to kill you?’
‘I am sure they wouldn’t,’ Sarah said and forced a smile, but Rupert saw that she looked shaken.
‘It looked that way, John,’ he said, ‘but I dare say it was just an accident. Please do not frighten the ladies. Come on, I want you to show me your pony’s paces.’
John frowned, then inclined his head and obeyed his mentor. As the two of them set off, Francesca looked at Sarah.
‘Is there anyone who would want to kill you?’
Sarah hesitated, then, ‘I’m not sure. I would not have thought so—but if John saw him aim at me...’
‘If there is anything, you should tell Uncle Rupert,’ Francesca said. ‘He likes you, Sarah. I am sure he would help you if you are in trouble.’
‘Yes, perhaps. Forget it for now,’ Sarah said. ‘Let us catch up with the others. It will soon be time to return for nuncheon...’
Chapter Seven (#ufeff8085-7298-5e54-93e5-cf6e726fbba8)
Sarah was thoughtful as she parted from the others and went to her room to change before nuncheon. The shot had been very close to hitting her. The mare had shied, but she’d been able to control it and no one had noticed her difficulty because Francesca’s horse had reared up and unseated her. It had been a most unpleasant incident and Sarah could not help thinking that the shot might have been meant for her. Yet who would want her dead?
Her uncle would inherit her estate as things stood, because she hadn’t made a will. There was no one else she’d wanted to leave her fortune to and Uncle William had been kind after her father’s death, even if he would have liked to tell her what to do. She did not believe for one moment that he would murder her for her money. So who else could it be—and why?
She had, of course, made some enemies since her father died. She’d refused several offers of marriage and a couple of offers to buy her property. That might cause some people to dislike her—but murder? As for Sir Roger...he hadn’t taken kindly to being turned down, but she could not see how her death would benefit him.
Besides, how would any of her enemies know she was staying here—or where she would be that particular morning? The answer must be that they would not so it followed that the shot had been a mistake even if it had seemed to John that the poacher had fired with intent.
Sarah would be foolish to allow the incident to play on her mind. It was an unfortunate accident and unlikely to happen again.
She changed quickly out of her riding habit. No one had been hurt so they could go on as if nothing had happened.
* * *
Why would anyone want to kill Sarah? Rupert puzzled over it after having had a word with the groom.
‘Did you see the poacher, Jed?’
‘Yes, my lord. He seemed to act on impulse, if you ask me. Just fired quickly and then ran for it. I would’ve gone after him, but I thought I should stay with Master John.’
‘Quite right. And I was concerned for Francesca. I fear the rogue got away too easily. It will not happen again. In future I want another groom to follow at a distance when the ladies go riding—and he is to be armed.’
‘Do you think it was intentional, sir?’
‘More like someone seeing his chance and acting impulsively. The question is, why would anyone want to harm either Francesca or Miss Goodrum?’
‘We’ve never had anything like that here before, sir. Miss Francesca is an innocent—never been out in company much. Begging your pardon, sir, but none of us know much about Miss Goodrum. Not that I mean any offence, my lord.’
‘None taken. One thing I am certain of, whoever this rogue is he should not be allowed a second chance. I do not believe Miss Goodrum to have done anything that should make anyone want to kill her. She has excellent references.’
‘Yes, sir. It was just a thought.’
It was indeed a thought, Rupert mused. He’d defended her to the groom, naturally, but it was perfectly true that they knew little enough about Miss Goodrum. She had been given an excellent reference, but—was she truly who she claimed to be? Could she have done something that had made someone want revenge—enough to pay an assassin to kill her? It would have to be something serious.
Rupert had drawn back from searching Sarah’s room for the key to her writing box, but there was clearly a mystery and, after this morning’s incident when Francesca had come so close to being injured, he needed to know the truth. He would ask to speak to her that afternoon and get to the bottom of this affair.
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Anne Herries
It’s time to take a chance on love…His Unusual Governess by Anne HerriesSarah Hardcastle is convinced her plan to escape the unwanted attentions of a fortune-hunter are fool-proof. But her careful masquerade is shaken when she meets Lord Rupert Myers. Sarah will need her wits about her if she’s to resist Rupert’s roguish ways and keep her secret intact…Claiming the Chaperon’s Heart by Anne HerriesLord Frant is haunted by his experiences in India but when he meets recently widowed Lady Jane March he allows himself to forget. Together, they must chase away the past and find a new future!
ANNE HERRIES lives in Cambridgeshire, where she is fond of watching wildlife, and spoils the birds and squirrels that are frequent visitors to her garden. Anne loves to write about the beauty of nature, and sometimes puts a little into her books, although they are mostly about love and romance. She writes for her own enjoyment, and to give pleasure to her readers. Anne is a winner of the Romantic Novelists’ Association Romance Prize. She invites readers to contact her on her website: www.lindasole.co.uk (http://www.lindasole.co.uk)
Regency Surrender: Defiant Lords
His Unusual Governess
Anne Herries
Claiming the Chaperon’s Heart
Anne Herries
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08567-0
REGENCY SURRENDER: DEFIANT LORDS
His Unusual Governess © 2013 Anne Herries Claiming the Chaperon’s Heart © 2016 Anne Herries
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Cover (#u59119a30-9fd7-5926-829f-4c02ecaba4a5)
About the Author (#uf643ea16-5da4-5477-852e-c8846d890d38)
Title Page (#u1815c9db-59c1-5a25-9471-75528661a333)
Copyright (#u4e4beec3-721b-5970-9fa3-a1ee924acea3)
His Unusual Governess (#u775cc2aa-a727-5153-9580-a07cda3d3b69)
Prologue (#u8d3f1aca-d844-5ed4-9f2a-79c33f73cdd9)
Chapter One (#u84ba3009-60ad-5905-bcdf-0393b885bc4a)
Chapter Two (#ue5ac804d-4d93-5541-af69-4804259e77cb)
Chapter Three (#u212165b9-823b-5c26-8b6e-995c5957de4e)
Chapter Four (#u3f70a351-99dc-565b-b1a3-0ffcd1c2956d)
Chapter Five (#u6476f82a-0ab9-52b2-a616-e1006212f10f)
Chapter Six (#u80e46084-aba8-506b-89aa-e80d87d0e196)
Chapter Seven (#ufb554c92-af98-56ed-a094-9e119564e1e0)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Claiming the Chaperon’s Heart (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
His Unusual Governess (#ufeff8085-7298-5e54-93e5-cf6e726fbba8)
Anne Herries
BENEATH THE GOVERNESS’S BLUSH…
Heiress Sarah Hardcastle is convinced her plan to escape the unwanted attentions of a fortune hunter is foolproof. Buried deep in the countryside, and with a whole new identity as prim governess Miss Goodrum, Sarah is looking forward to the quiet life for once.
But her careful masquerade is shaken when she meets her pupils’ mentor, Lord Rupert Myers. An incorrigible flirt, Rupert has the looks and the charm to make Sarah blush all the way down to her high-buttoned neckline—and the determination to uncover what’s beneath! Sarah will need her wits about her if she’s to resist Rupert’s roguish ways and keep her secret intact....
I would like to dedicate this book to the memory of my great friend Paula Marshall, whom I loved dearly, as did so many of you.
Prologue (#ufeff8085-7298-5e54-93e5-cf6e726fbba8)
‘What was so important that you summoned me here?’ Lord Rupert Myers arched a languid eyebrow at the Marquess of Merrivale. ‘’Tis an unseasonable hour and I was up late last night.’ He smothered a yawn and levelled an elegant gold-rimmed eyeglass at the older man. Seeing that the marquess looked strained, he dropped the air of boredom and said in a very different tone, ‘What may I do for you, sir?’
‘Good grief, sir,’ his uncle said, looking at a coat that had so many capes it made Rupert’s broad shoulders look positively menacing. ‘Where did you get that monstrosity?’
‘Uncle!’ Devilish eyes mocked him. ‘My feelings are deeply lacerated. Don’t you know I’m a very tulip of fashion? I dare say at least six young idiots have copied this cape only this week, for I saw Harrad’s boy wearing one with nine capes and this has only seven.’
‘More fool him,’ the marquess grunted. ‘Sit down, m’boy. You make me feel awkward, towering over me like an avenging dervish. What happened to the eager young fellow I saw off to war six years ago?’
‘I dare say he grew up, sir,’ Rupert replied carelessly, but there were shadows in his eyes as he sat in the chair opposite and his mouth lost its smile. He did not care to be reminded of that time for the memories were too painful. ‘Is something bothering you?’
‘I fear it is,’ the marquess said. ‘I’m in somewhat of a pickle, m’boy—and I’m hoping you’ll sort me out.’
‘Anything to oblige. I do not forget that you stood as a father to me when my own...’ Blue fire flashed in bitter regret, for the late Lord Myers had been a rogue and a cheat and had brought his family almost to the edge of ruin. That Rupert had been able to save himself and his sister from disgrace was in large part due to this man. ‘No, I will not go down that road. Tell me what you wish, sir, and if it is in within my power I shall do it.’
‘It’s Lily’s children,’ the marquess said with a heavy sigh. ‘You know my daughter’s story, Rupert. She would marry that wastrel. I warned her that he would run through her fortune and break her heart. She wouldn’t listen and he did all that and more—he killed her.’
‘You can’t be sure of that, sir.’
‘He drove her out into the rain that night. Her maid told me of the quarrel between them. Scunthorpe broke her heart and she stayed out all night in the rain. You know what happened next...’
Rupert nodded for he did know only too well. Lily Scunthorpe had died of a fever, leaving a daughter of six years and a son of three, but that had been more than ten years previously and he could not see what the urgency was now.
‘You took the children when Scunthorpe deserted them, installed them in Cavendish Park with a governess, tutor and the requisite servants—what has happened to throw you into a fit of the blue devils?’
‘The governess and tutor both gave notice last month. I’ve tried to find replacements, but with very little success. I fear my niece and nephew have acquired a reputation for being difficult. I have managed to find a woman who is prepared to take them both on—I suspect because she has no choice—but I’m not sure she’ll stay above a few days.’
Merrivale cleared his throat. ‘They need a firm hand, Rupert. I fear I’ve spoiled them. If I read them a lecture, they would apologise sweetly and then go straight back to their old ways. Would it be too much to ask you to stand as mentor to them for a while? The boy may go to college at the end of the year and the girl...well, she ought to have a Season next spring, but I fear I shall find it hard to secure the services of a woman influential enough to give them a good start.’
‘Play bear-leader to a girl on the edge of her come-out and a rebellious youth? Good grief, Uncle! Have your wits gone begging? I’m hardly a role model for either of them. Besides being a tulip of fashion, I’m a notorious rake—or hadn’t you heard?’
Merrivale ran nervous fingers through his white hair. ‘I know you have your mistress, but I’m not suggesting you should take her with you to Cavendish.’
‘Thank you for small mercies,’ Rupert said, the light of mockery in his eyes once more. ‘She would take it as an invitation to marry me. Annais is too greedy for her own good. I have been looking for an excuse to finish the affair and I suppose one is as good as another...she has no love of the country.’
‘Do you mean you will do it?’ A look of such relief entered the marquess’s eyes that Rupert laughed out loud. ‘I should be so grateful, m’boy.’
‘I’ll do what I can for them,’ Rupert said. ‘But I must have a free hand. Discipline is never popular and I dare say one or the other will write and complain of my high-handed behaviour or some such thing.’
‘Lily was very precious to me and her children are all I have left—apart from you, m’boy. Francesca is very like her mother, but I think the boy may be more like his father. I hope John won’t turn out to be a rogue like Captain Scunthorpe—but that is why he needs a firm hand now, to knock him into shape a little before he goes to college. I suppose I should have sent him earlier, but I preferred to educate them at home—some of those schools are very harsh to boys, you know.’
‘We’ve all suffered at the hands of bullies at school,’ Rupert said. ‘John needs to learn to stand up for himself. I could teach him to box, gentleman’s rules—and perhaps fencing lessons. I’m not sure about the girl, but perhaps the governess will be what she needs.’
‘I pray she will be suitable. Her references from Lady Mary Winters were good, but Lady Mary’s daughter was leaving for finishing school in France so she may just have wanted to get the woman off her hands.’
‘How old is this governess and what is her name?’
‘She’s in her late twenties, I think, and a sensible woman. Her name is Miss Hester Goodrum and she teaches the pianoforte as well as French, literature and needlework.’
‘Miss Goodrum?’ Rupert nodded. She sounded sensible enough, though her skills were limited. ‘I’m not sure what help she would be to John. He needs rather more than that—but for the next six months he shall have the benefit of my knowledge, such as it is.’
‘I’m not sure what you mean.’ The marquess looked puzzled. ‘I thought you would just run an eye over them, give them both a lecture and then pop in once in a while?’
‘I hardly think that would do much good, sir.’ Rupert arched his right eyebrow. ‘I’ve been feeling jaded for a while and this sounds like a challenge. I shall reside at Cavendish Park until the boy goes to college and by then you will have found someone to take Francesca on, I imagine. I can be John’s mentor and tutor and keep an eye on this governess until Christmas. After that I dare say I’ll be thoroughly sick of it all, but I’ve never refused a challenge.’
‘Then take my hand on it. If I can be of service to you, you have only to ask, m’boy.’
‘You have done more for me than I could ever repay,’ Rupert assured him, clasped his hand firmly and smiled. ‘It will be a change for me. My estate is in good heart and almost runs itself these days. Besides, I shall be no more than a day’s ride from my home if I’m needed.’
‘I fear you may find they do not take kindly to authority, Rupert.’
‘I dare say John may kick a bit at the start, but he’ll gentle to the bit in time.’
Rupert waved his uncle’s gratitude aside carelessly. After all, what trouble could one young boy and a girl on the brink of womanhood be to a man of the world? He hoped the governess would be presentable and not one of those sour-face spinsters, but whatever she was like they would bob along together easily enough....
Chapter One (#ufeff8085-7298-5e54-93e5-cf6e726fbba8)
‘It was so good of you to take me up with you, Miss Hardcastle,’ Hester Goodrum said as she climbed into the comfortable chaise. ‘Lady Mary promised to send me to Cavendish Park in comfort, but she was called away to her sister’s bedside and forgot all about me. I have to be there by the end of the week, because the marquess sent word the young people would be alone by then, except for their servants, of course.’
Sarah Hardcastle looked at the woman sitting opposite her and nodded. Hester was in her late twenties, attractive, though not pretty, and kindhearted. She had heard of her predicament and been moved to offer assistance.
‘Well, I’m returning to my home in the north of England and we must pass within twenty miles of Cavendish Park. It is no trouble to take a detour, Hester.’
‘My fiancé told me I was a fool to agree to this position,’ Hester went on as she settled in her seat. ‘He wanted me to give up work and go home to Chester and marry him.’
‘Why didn’t you?’ Sarah asked and caught at the rope as the chaise moved off with a lurch. ‘I fear Coachman is in one of his moods again. If he continues this way, I shall have to call a halt and give him a scolding.’
‘Please do not do so on my account,’ Hester said. ‘I should like to get married, miss. I’ve been saving for years, but Jim needs more money to set up for himself in an inn. He’s got some savings, but we both know we need to wait for another year at least.’
‘That’s a shame...’ Sarah looked at her thoughtfully. She’d been told the governess’s story and it was part of the reason she’d offered her the ride in her chaise. ‘How much more do you need to save?’
‘I suppose a hundred pounds might be enough...’ Hester sighed. ‘If we both save hard this year, we may just manage it, though I contribute very little and it may take much longer.’
She was not a young woman. Sarah felt sympathy for her, because time was passing her by and her youth was fading. It was so ironic that Hester should be longing for marriage, but did not have enough money while she, Sarah Hardcastle, was doing her best to avoid being married because she’d had rather too much of it.
Was her plan too outrageous to have a chance of success? She’d thought about it all the previous night and her stomach was tying itself in knots. No doubt Hester would think she’d run mad.
‘Supposing I offered you two hundred pounds and gave you two of my best dresses in return for your reference from Lady Mary and the gowns you have in your trunk? Would you change places with me? I mean, let me take your place as the governess at Cavendish Park—and you go home to marry your fiancé?’
There, she’d said it out loud. Did it sound as mad as she imagined?
Hester was staring at her in bewilderment. ‘What did you say, miss? I don’t think I heard right.’
‘I offered you two hundred pounds to let me have some of your clothes and the reference Lady Mary gave you. You can do what you wish with the money.’
‘You want to be a governess? Why?’ Hester was stunned. ‘You’re a rich young woman, Miss Hardcastle. Why would you wish to be a governess?’
‘I need to disappear for a while and it seems an ideal situation to me. Your employer has never seen you. The girl is almost seventeen so will be easy to manage and the boy is going to college in six months—so how could I go wrong? My tutors considered me a bright pupil. I imagine I can teach the boy mathematics and geography and the girl music, literature, French, Latin, drawing and dancing. What more does she need to know?’
‘Nothing, I shouldn’t think,’ Hester said, but looked anxious. ‘I don’t know what to say, miss—it doesn’t seem right. We should be deceiving my employer...’
‘But if he didn’t even bother to interview you he can’t be that bothered about his grandchildren. All he wants is to keep them out of his hair—and I can do that as easily as you.’
‘Perhaps better, miss. You’ve a way with you. People pay attention when Miss Hardcastle speaks.’
‘That is because my father left me a fortune invested in mills and mines and I’ve run them myself since he died when I was just nineteen.’
‘How old are you, miss—if you don’t mind my asking?’
‘I’m five and twenty,’ Sarah said and sighed. ‘My aunt and uncle have been trying to marry me off for months. They say I need a man to help me and they’re afraid I shall die an old maid.’
‘Do they bully you, miss?’
‘No, I shall not lie. Aunt Jenny is kind and my uncle is well meaning, but I have no intention of marrying simply to please them. I came away because my uncle would not let the subject drop.’
‘What will happen to your mills if you’re not there, miss?’
‘I have managers and a man of business I trust. I shall keep in touch with him by letter—and it will just be for a short time, until I’ve made up my mind about something. After that I’ll give notice and your pupils will have a new governess. Surely my influence cannot harm them in that time?’ Sarah leaned forward. ‘Will you think about it today? This evening when we stop at the inn you can tell me. If your answer is yes, we’ll change clothes. In the morning I’ll send you on in my chaise to Chester—and I’ll go by post-chaise to Cavendish Park.’
‘I don’t know what to say...’ Hester looked worried, clearly torn between taking this wonderful chance and fulfilling her duty. ‘It’s such an opportunity for me. It would mean the world to my Jim to have his inn this year instead of waiting.’
‘Well, the choice is yours. I shan’t twist your arm. If you say no, I’ll simply find another way to disappear for a while.’
Hester nodded, settling back against the squabs with a sigh. She was obviously tempted and Sarah crossed her fingers under the folds of her elegant travelling gown. Being a governess would be a safe environment for a wealthy heiress to hide in until she could shake off the feeling of being persecuted for her money.
Why had her father had to die in that accident at the mill? Tobias Hardcastle had always been a hands-on employer, not above taking off his frock coat and rolling up his sleeves. He’d started out with fifty pounds left to him by his grandfather and built up his huge business using his brains and his ability to work twenty hours out of every twenty-four for years.
Before she died, Sarah’s mother had complained bitterly that she wasn’t sure when he’d had time to give her a child. It wasn’t true, of course, for he came home for meals and occasionally had Sunday off, but he’d certainly put in long hours to ensure that his business empire was solid. Sarah couldn’t claim to do the same, but she had a knack of choosing her employees well and of inspiring loyalty. She’d taken up the challenge at the start because it was there and she did not wish to hand over her father’s empire to someone who might abuse it. However, she had begun to grow a little tired of the constant rounds of meetings and bookkeeping that were an ever-present part of her life. It was time to sit back a little, for her life was slipping away and some might already consider her as being past the age of making a good marriage. Her managers would make sure the mills continued to prosper during her absence and also the two copper mines she owned in Cornwall. It was on her return from her biannual visit to the mines that she’d stopped off to visit her own governess and there met Miss Hester Goodrum.
Something about the young woman had appealed to Sarah immediately. Had Hester been a woman who wanted a lifetime career she would have offered her a position as her companion, but Hester had confided her hopes for marriage and that had set Sarah’s quick mind working.
It was a little deceitful to pretend to be someone she wasn’t, of course, but she wasn’t harming anyone. She wouldn’t steal the silver or teach the children to swear and drink gin. A smile touched her lips, for the idea of being the children’s mentor was pleasant. Sarah had worked hard since her father’s death, giving little thought to pleasure of any kind. She’d been asked to dinners and evening affairs at the homes of her father’s friends, but since she knew that the ones with wives wanted to buy her mills and the widowers wanted to marry her to get them cheaply, she normally found such evenings tedious.
Even at school she’d been aware that she wasn’t really one of the gentry. She was the daughter of a rich man who’d bought the right to live in a big house and own land, but she wasn’t one of the blue bloods. The other girls were friendly to a degree, but she’d felt the barrier between them and knew that they laughed at her northern accent, which had all but disappeared now. Sometimes, if she was upset, it returned, but her teachers had earned their money. Mr Hardcastle had wanted his daughter to be a lady and to all intents and purposes she was—except that she wasn’t fully accepted into their society. They welcomed her on the boards of their charities and they were even friendlier towards her money, which they grabbed as soon as it was offered, but she was seldom invited to an intimate affair at their homes. Occasionally she would be invited to a large dance because of her influence, but she wasn’t the kind of woman that gentlemen thought of marrying.
Well, that wasn’t quite true, either, Sarah mused, glancing out of the window. She did have one rather persistent suitor. Sir Roger Grey had asked her to marry him three times now and he didn’t like being refused. Sarah was aware that he was in financial difficulty, though he’d managed to hide that fact from her uncle and most of his acquaintance. Sarah had asked one of her agents to make enquiries and his report was disturbing. Sir Roger gave the appearance of being wealthy and respectable, but in reality was a rake and a gambler, and the last man she would ever wed. However, he was difficult to shake off, for he seemed to have taken it into his head that she would come round to the idea if he continued to press her. Unfortunately, her uncle was completely taken in and believed him to be a man of his word.
It was Sir Roger’s tactics at the charity ball in Newcastle that had made her decide to leave for Cornwall a month earlier than usual. He’d tried to kiss her and he’d fumbled at her breasts. She’d had to fight him off and had scratched his cheek in her efforts.
‘You little hellcat.’ He’d put a hand to his cheek in shock. ‘You will be sorry for that, Sarah. I’ll teach you to respect your betters.’
‘I do not consider you my superior, sir,’ she’d retorted. ‘I have no intention of being seduced. If you thought to compromise me and force me into marriage, you are far off the mark. I would rather have fingers pointed at me in the street than marry you.’
That was perfectly true, for she would rather die than marry a man like him, but it was also true that she didn’t wish to lose her good name. Nor would she care to be whispered about or pointed out as an object of shame.
‘If you would marry Sam Goodjohn, or Harry Barton, you’d be safe from rogues like that,’ her uncle had told her when she’d told him what had happened. ‘They’re good men and run mills of their own so you could stay home and be a wife and mother as you ought. It’s time you married and thought about a family, Sarah—unless you want to die an old maid.’
‘I know you want to protect me, Uncle William,’ Sarah replied. ‘But I should hate to be married simply for the sake of my fortune. When I find a man I love who loves me, I’ll get married.’
‘Love,’ her uncle scoffed at the idea. ‘When did love ever get you anywhere? You need a man to protect you and look after your business, young woman. Don’t leave it too late or you may find that even money won’t get you the kind of man you need.’
Her uncle’s scolding had jerked her from her complacency. It was true that time was slipping by and she was no longer a young girl. If she wanted a family she must marry—and Sarah had begun to realise what
she might miss if she did not.
Was she so ill-favoured that she needed money to buy her a husband? Sarah knew she wasn’t beautiful by any means. Her hair was dark brown, and her nose was straight. Her mouth was bigger than she liked and she wished she had thin lips like Hester. Miss Goodrum was prettier than she was, but Sarah didn’t feel ugly. When she dressed in her best she was attractive enough and people said she had a nice smile.
Was it impossible that she would find love?
She felt she might have more chance of it if she were not her father’s heir. When men looked at her they saw the rich Miss Hardcastle and they wanted what she could give them. The hard-headed ones wanted to build up her business and get richer; the spendthrifts wanted a ticket to the easy life.
Sarah wanted... A little sigh escaped her. She wanted a man who would make her laugh. A man who appreciated music, poetry and beautiful gardens...someone who would love her for who she was, not for her money.
Was she asking too much? Perhaps her uncle was right. It might be sensible to accept one of her suitors and have the lawyers draw up a contract that gave her the right to retain control of her business and protect her fortune.
It was the simple way out of her predicament. A business arrangement that would protect her from fortune hunters and unscrupulous businessmen who wanted the vast wealth her father had bequeathed her. Until recently, Sarah would have thought it a perfectly sensible idea, but for some reason she had begun to feel a slight dissatisfaction with her life as it presently was. She had not thought of marriage whilst her father lived and in the first years after his death she’d been too wrapped up in her work to consider it. Of late she’d begun to notice children playing in the parks and sweethearts walking together in the sunshine. If she did not marry, she would miss so much.
Was she lonely? Certainly not! She had friends and loyal employees and was too busy to be lonely.
Yet surely there was another way to live? She must have time to consider, to decide what she wanted of life. What Sarah needed was a place to escape, to hide and to be someone else for a while....
‘Yes, I’ll do it, miss. Like you said, it can’t hurt anyone—and Jim will be so happy to have me home....’
Sarah blinked, dragging her thoughts back to the present. For a moment she couldn’t believe that Hester had agreed, then, as she saw the other woman was in earnest, she smiled.
‘Thank you so much, Hester,’ she said and leaned forwards to touch her hand. ‘You won’t regret it. I shan’t do anything that could harm your good name, I promise you.’
‘Lord, miss, as if you would.’ Hester laughed, looking younger as her eyes lit with excitement. ‘I can’t thank you enough for giving me this chance—and I hope you’ll get on with your charges. Lady Mary arranged it for me. She said they’re a little bit difficult, but I’m sure you’ll be fine.’
‘Yes, I’m certain I shall,’ Sarah agreed and laughed. ‘How hard can it be to look after a young lady and a boy of thirteen?’
Chapter Two (#ufeff8085-7298-5e54-93e5-cf6e726fbba8)
‘Why do we have to have a mentor as well as a governess? I thought you said it would be all right when we got rid of the last two? You said Grandfather would give up sending us tutors and take us to live with him in London.’
‘I said he would take me. It’s time I had my come out,’ Francesca Scunthorpe said and made a face at her brother. She was a pretty girl with soft hair and bright eyes, and a mouth that was wide and sensuous. Her yellow-silk gown was attractive, but not as fashionable as she would like, and made for her by a local seamstress. ‘You will be going to Cambridge after Christmas. It looks as if I’ll be stuck here on my own with some stupid governess.’
‘I don’t mind going to college,’ John said and threw a paper dart at her across the schoolroom. He was a sturdy boy, attractive with dark hair and eyes and a stubborn chin. His tutor had given him a list of Latin verbs to learn to keep him busy until the new mentor arrived, but John was bored with lists. His tutor had given him new lists every day for the past eighteen months, but he hadn’t explained anything. His lessons consisted of setting a new exercise and then tests to see what he’d learned. ‘It would be better than staying here on our own.’
‘It was all right at first,’ Francesca said. ‘When we were younger we had Miss Graham and Mr Browne. I liked her and she taught me lots of interesting things, but she left and the last governess was useless. She couldn’t play the pianoforte or the harp and she chose all the wrong books.’
‘And she didn’t like frogs in her bed,’ John said, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. ‘I’ve never heard anyone scream as much as she did when she saw that grass snake.’
‘She thought it was poisonous.’ Francesca looked scornful. ‘She didn’t know it was a grass snake and harmless.’
‘Anyone knows the difference between a viper and a grass snake,’ John said and looked up at his sister. ‘What are we going to do, Fran? I’m so bored—aren’t you?’
‘Yes, some of the time,’ Fran agreed. ‘I like to read poetry, but I know you’d rather play games or go fishing.’
‘Can we go fishing today? He will probably stop us having fun when he gets here—and your governess will say it isn’t a fit occupation for a lady.’
‘We’ll outwit them somehow,’ Fran promised. She picked up a volume of poetry she’d been reading earlier, then threw it down with a sigh of discontent. ‘They are both supposed to arrive later today, though not together. We’ll go fishing this morning and come back when we feel like it.’
‘Grandfather’s letter said we had to be on our best behaviour—to be waiting in the parlour when they arrive.’
‘Well, he should have come down himself and stayed for a few days.’
‘He said it was getting a bit much for him. Do you think he’s ill?’
‘I don’t know.’ Fran’s brow creased because she worried about her grandfather. The marquess was all they had—the only one who bothered about them anyway. Her father had gone off abroad somewhere when his money ran out. His house and estate had been put up for sale and the marquess had brought them here. At first he’d spent time with them, but of late he hadn’t bothered to come down other than at Christmas, though he always sent birthday gifts. ‘I hope he isn’t, because I don’t know what would happen to us if he died. We haven’t any money of our own, John. Everything comes from Grandfather. If I get my Season, I’ll marry a rich lord and then we’ll have money. I’ll look after you then. You won’t have to work for a living.’
‘Do you think Grandfather will leave us anything?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t want to think about that...’ Fran’s throat caught at the idea that they might be forced to leave this house. She’d loved it from the moment they came here and didn’t want to live in a horrible little cottage like some of the children on the estate. ‘Come on, I refuse to be miserable on a lovely morning like this. Let’s get some stuff from the kitchen and go down to the stream.’
‘Yes.’ John grinned at her. ‘At least we’ve got each other. I’ll put frogs in her bed and you can think of something to do to this lord whatever-his-name-is...’
‘Lord Rupert Myers,’ Fran said. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll think of some way to get rid of them if we hate them. Let’s go fishing. It will serve them right if there’s no one to greet them when they get here.’
* * *
Sarah got down from the chaise and looked at the house. Cavendish Park was a pleasant country house, much the biggest one she’d ever visited, larger and more impressive than her father’s on the outskirts of Newcastle. She’d visited a few country houses as the guest of her school friends, but never one quite like this. It was so beautiful that for a moment all she wanted to do was to stand and stare at the mellow golden walls and long windows that sparkled like diamonds in the sunshine.
‘If you’d like to come into the house, Miss Goodrum.’
Sarah came to herself with a start. The housekeeper must have been speaking to her for a few minutes, but she’d been lost in thought—and it was difficult remembering that she was no longer the wealthy heiress, Miss Hardcastle. She’d packed that particular persona into her trunks and sent them back to her home with a letter for her uncle explaining that she was taking a little holiday and they were not to worry. All she had with her was a small trunk containing the clothes she’d purchased from Hester.
She was wearing Hester’s best gown, because she’d been assured it would be expected for her first arrival. It was pearl-grey with a slender skirt and tight bodice, and it had a white lace collar. Sarah had fastened a small silver brooch at the neck to cheer it up a little. Hester’s other gowns were not as good and certainly not what Sarah was accustomed to, but she would get used to them—and it was only for a few weeks or so.
‘Yes, thank you, Mrs Brancaster. I was just thinking what a lovely house it is. You must enjoy living here?’
‘It’s a nice enough house, Miss Goodrum, but...’ The housekeeper hesitated and then pursed her thin mouth. ‘Things are not quite what they ought to be. His lordship doesn’t come down often enough and the children are left to do much as they please. The house needs a master or a mistress, if you ask me—preferably both.’
‘Yes, I expect it does. A big place like this takes some running and it shouldn’t be left to the servants.’
Unaware of the odd glance her remark had brought from Mrs Brancaster, Sarah walked into the house by way of the kitchen entrance. Since she made a habit of visiting her kitchens regularly at home this did not make her uncomfortable. She might be wealthy and she’d been educated as a lady, but Sarah knew she was a long way from being one. You could take the girl out of Newcastle, but you couldn’t take Newcastle out of the girl; it had been one of her father’s favourite sayings and made her smile. She’d been so close to her father, his right-hand man, and she missed him so very much.
She supposed she was looking for someone she could admire and respect as she had Tobias Hardcastle. If such a man were to present himself, she would not hesitate to hand over her person and the day-to-day running of her business to him—but as yet she’d never met anyone who came close to filling his shoes.
‘I’ll take you straight up to your room,’ the housekeeper was saying. ‘You can settle in and then
come down to the kitchen for a nice cup of tea. Miss Francesca and Master John were supposed to be here to meet you, but they slipped off early this morning. I suspect they went fishing in defiance of the marquess’s instructions that they should sit in the parlour and wait for you and their mentor.’
‘Their mentor? I thought the Marquess of Merrivale was their grandfather and guardian?’
‘So he is, Miss Goodrum. Mr John is to have a tutor and he is to be their mentor. As I understand it, he’s to be in charge here and we shall all report to him.’
It was the first Sarah had heard of this arrangement and she wondered if Hester had known. This new man might enquire more closely into her background than she’d imagined and she was glad she’d asked for the reference as well as Hester’s clothes.
‘I see. Do you know this...mentor’s name?’
‘I wasn’t listening properly when Mr Burrows told me,’ the housekeeper admitted. ‘I’d just discovered that the pair of scamps had disappeared again and my mind wasn’t on it, but I’ll find out when he arrives and let you know.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Brancaster.’ Sarah was thoughtful. ‘Do you think I could leave the tea for an hour or so? I should like to take a walk about the grounds before I unpack—get my bearings.’
‘Well...’ Mrs Brancaster looked a bit put out. ‘I’m sure it’s up to you, miss. I thought you might want to see the schoolroom?’
‘When I return you can give me directions or I’ll ask one of the footmen. I don’t want to take up too much of your time, because I know you have so much to do in a house like this—and with two new visitors it must have turned your routine upside down.’
‘It has...’ Mrs Brancaster nodded. ‘Well, off you go then. Your trunk will be taken up and you can find your own way here when you’re ready, I dare say.’
‘Oh, I’m sure I shall. I’m really quite capable, you know.’
Sarah left the housekeeper staring after her. She knew that she had perhaps risked offending her new colleague, but she’d felt as if she must escape before she did something stupid. All at once the enormity of what she’d done—and what she was attempting to do—had hit her square in the face. In her comfortable chaise with all her familiar things about her it had seemed a clever idea. She’d imagined the children were left much to themselves with just their grandfather’s servants—but who was this new mentor and what would he be like?
If he was just another superior servant, she might manage to get away with her masquerade by keeping her own counsel. If, however, he’d been placed in charge of the children’s future by the marquess, he might want to know too much about her. Sarah couldn’t afford for him to dig too deeply into her background. Should he discover she was lying, he might imagine her to be a person of low integrity and dubious virtue.
Her stomach was fluttering with nerves as she strolled through the kitchen garden, noticing how well everything was kept. If she’d expected to find an air of neglect here, she was far off the mark. What if this mentor had met Hester Goodrum in the past?
Oh, this whole thing was madness! She should go back to the house, ask for directions to the nearest post house and leave. What on earth had made her think she was capable of carrying out a masquerade like this? She hadn’t been thinking clearly, of course. Sarah wanted time out of her life, time to come to terms with what she needed from the future: should she marry for the sake of companionship or should she wait until she fell in love?
A smile touched her mouth. There was no guarantee that the man she chose would reciprocate her feelings. Sarah knew that she wasn’t the prettiest girl in the world and if she found someone she wanted, he would probably not be interested in her.
She must not rush her decision. Looking about her as she walked, Sarah fell in love with the beautiful rose gardens, the herbaceous borders and the sweeping lawns. Some of these trees must have been here for centuries. Hearing the sound of laughter coming from what appeared to be a small wilderness, she turned instinctively towards it and then stopped as she saw a young woman of perhaps sixteen years and a boy some years younger. They were sprawled out on the grass, watching as a fish cooked slowly over a smoking fire.
The camaraderie between them and the sound of their laughter caught at Sarah’s throat, making her aware of how much she missed in not having a family. They were so beautiful, so wrapped up in themselves and their amusement that she hesitated, not wanting to intrude. If she introduced herself now they might resent her intrusion into their private time and she would start off on the wrong foot. No, it would be better to wait and meet them later when they had washed the dirt from their hands and faces. Yet how she longed to be a part of that scene.
Turning away, Sarah felt the ache inside her. She had been thinking it best if she made some excuse and went away, leaving the new mentor to arrange a new governess for his charges, but now she’d changed her mind again. Something inside her called out to the young people she’d discovered having fun and she wanted to stay. She had no wish to harm them and she would keep her distance from their mentor, be friendly but reserved, as a proper governess should be.
Lifting her head, she took her courage in her hands. Her father’s lawyers had advised her to sell her father’s mills to the highest bidder and not to think of trying to run them herself. She hadn’t listened to their prophecies of doom and gloom, and, though she’d come up against prejudice and men who resented a woman in their midst, she’d overcome their opposition and her business was thriving. She wouldn’t turn and run at the first obstacle now.
It was time to have that cup of tea with Mrs Brancaster. Sarah wouldn’t lie more than she had to, to sustain her masquerade as a governess, but she wasn’t going to walk away from those delightful children, either.
* * *
Rupert was getting down from his curricle when he saw the woman walking back from the gardens. The sun was shining on her head, picking out the red tints in her dark hair and giving her a kind of halo. From her dress he guessed her to be the new governess and surmised that she’d been for a little walk to acquaint herself with her surroundings. He knew very little about her, except that she had been recommended by Lady Mary Winters.
Well acquainted with Cavendish Park from visits to his uncle as a young man, Rupert had no desire to follow her example. He’d known his uncle’s grandchildren when they were all younger, but it was years since he’d seen them. He wondered whether they were waiting dutifully in the parlour, as they’d been bidden, or, as he would have done in their place, escaped for a last day of freedom.
‘Your lordship,’ Burrows said, his face wreathed in smiles as he came out to greet him. ‘It is a pleasure to see you, sir. I’ve been informed that you intend to stay with us for a few months.’
‘Yes, until John goes to Cambridge,’ Rupert replied. ‘It’s Burrows, isn’t it?’
‘Fancy you remembering that, sir.’ The butler looked gratified. ‘Most of the staff are still here, though some of the maids and footmen are new.’
‘Is Mrs Brancaster still with you?’
‘Yes, sir. She’ll be up in a minute...ah, here she is now. I dare say she was busy...’
‘Are Francesca and John in the house?’
‘They went off early this morning, sir. Shall I send someone to look for them? One of the gardeners thought they’d gone fishing.’
‘Perfect day for it. Wouldn’t have minded a spot of fishing myself this morning. No, don’t make them feel guilty. We’ll soon have a routine established once I’ve had time to sort things out. I think I should like some cold ale if you have any and a bite to eat—didn’t stop for nuncheon.’
‘Lord Myers—’ Mrs Brancaster looked stunned as she came up to him ‘—how are you, sir? I didn’t realise it was you coming down today. I’ve prepared the wrong room. I thought...’ Her cheeks turned pink. ‘Forgive me, I’ll have your own room ready in half an hour.’
‘Plenty of time,’ Rupert assured her, amused by her obvious embarrassment. ‘I should like to meet Miss Goodrum. I believe I saw her return to the house a moment ago?’
‘Yes, sir. She went for a little walk to get used to her surroundings. We were just about to have a cup of tea when I was told you’d arrived and it set me all of a fluster.’
‘No need to stand on ceremony. I’m the same as I was when I came here as a lad, Mrs Brancaster.’
‘No, that you’re not, sir. We all heard how you were decorated for bravery for what you did over there in France—and you were wounded in the leg.’
‘Which is so much better I hardly know it happened. It’s only when the weather turns cold that I feel it.’ Rupert’s smile dimmed. He did not like to hear himself praised for something he felt best placed in the past where it belonged.
‘I’ll tell Miss Goodrum to wait on you in the front parlour immediately, sir.’
‘Please request her to visit me there when she has had time to take her refreshments. I should wish to be on good terms with the young woman. Tell me, Mrs Brancaster, what are your first impressions?’
‘Of the new governess?’ Mrs Brancaster frowned. ‘I’ve only just met her, sir, but...she seems very calm and sure of herself.’
‘Do I detect a note of disapproval?’
‘Oh, no, sir, nothing like that I assure you.’ The housekeeper was thoughtful. ‘It’s just...she isn’t quite like any of the others we’ve had. They usually have a look about them...sort of resigned and disappointed...but she’s not like that at all.’
Rupert quirked an eyebrow, amused. ‘I see. An unusual governess. How interesting. I hope she is intelligent enough to know that you cannot keep a girl of Francesca’s age always in the schoolroom. However, we shall see.’
‘You mustn’t take against her for anything I’ve said, sir. I’ve only just met her and I’m sure she’s perfectly respectable.’
‘Oh, I’m certain of it. Lady Mary would not otherwise have employed her. She comes with impeccable references. I am quite looking forward to meeting her.’
‘I’ll send her along in about ten minutes—and your refreshments will follow as soon as they’re ready. I’ll have your room prepared immediately.’
‘Thank you. You always did spoil me, Mrs Brancaster. I can see I’ve been missing a treat by not coming down more often.’
Mrs Brancaster positively glowed and scurried away to set everything in motion. Rupert smiled to himself as he went into the house. Nothing much had changed here. It still smelled of roses and lavender; the furniture was mostly good oak and polished to within an inch of its life, though in the main salon he recalled seeing some mahogany Chippendale pieces.
It was what it had always been, a pleasant country house, comfortable rather than elegant, and he could feel its welcome as he made his way to the parlour. Vases of flowers stood everywhere and the smell of roses was even stronger in the parlour. Merrivale had good servants and it was a pity the marquess didn’t spend more time here, but Rupert supposed the memories were too strong for him. He’d grieved for his wife for years and the loss of his daughter had nearly done him in, bringing on a heart attack that had left him with a weakness. Rupert suspected that the old man found it too upsetting to visit often for reasons of his own, but it hadn’t been wise to let the children run wild. Francesca in particular would need to be schooled in the manners she needed for society and he could only hope that he would find some support in the new governess—because he was more used to dealing with ladies of a different kind.
Rupert laughed softly in his throat. His latest mistress had been most disappointed to hear that he was leaving town and did not expect to return for months.
‘What am I to do without you?’ she’d asked, as she ran her long nails down his naked back. ‘Do you expect me to languish here alone?’
‘I expect you to take a new protector within a week,’ Rupert told her with a mocking smile. ‘We both know this was merely a convenient arrangement for us both, my dear Annais. You will find yourself adequately compensated by my parting gift, so do not pretend to feel more than you do.’
Her nails had scored his back, her eyes glinting with temper. Rupert had known she was angry at being given her freedom to find a new lover, but the diamonds he’d gifted her should soon dry her tears and he was aware that she’d been casting glances at Lord Rowley for a while now. He would bet that the gentleman found himself in her bed within the week. His own feelings were not touched. It was a long time since he’d found more than a fleeting pleasure in the arms of a woman—since Madeline had broken his heart before he went off to fight for his king and country.
A picture of Madeline’s beautiful face and long blonde curls passed through his mind and was ruthlessly dismissed. When she’d married the old Duke of Marley for money, he’d put her out of his heart and mind. At first he’d been angry, bitter, broken by her scorn and her betrayal, but then he’d found something more worthwhile—and that was the camaraderie of his friends. It was only when he’d lost them that his heart had become encased in ice.
His one-time friends believed that he had done something careless that had led to the deaths of several of their comrades. Rupert knew that he was innocent of their charges, but he refused to explain or to tell them the truth about what had happened that night. If they could see only what was in front of their noses, then they were not worth bothering over—they were certainly not his friends and not the men he’d thought them to be. Where was the trust that should have existed between them? Where was the respect he believed he was entitled to expect? Since they had chosen to believe evil of him he would not defend himself. Let them think what they chose. He’d shut out the memory of their friendship, becoming in truth the man society believed him: a hardened rake and a ruthless card player.
‘You wished to see me, Lord Myers?’
The voice was soft, but there was just the trace of an accent. Rupert turned to look at the young woman who had entered the parlour as he stood gazing out at the park. Although no beauty, she was of medium height, slim, attractive with dark hair that he knew carried tints of red in the sunlight. Her eyes were a bluish-green and her mouth pleasantly full. She carried herself well and there was a hint of pride in her face—also something else?
Did she seem wary? A little uneasy, perhaps?
‘You are Miss Hester Goodrum?’
He thought there was a slight hesitation before she inclined her head. ‘I am the new governess, sir.’
‘Miss Goodrum?’
‘Yes.’ This time her voice was firm and without hesitation. ‘I believe you are to be the children’s mentor?’
‘My uncle has requested me to be John’s mentor until he goes to his college. I am also here to see that Francesca is ready to enter society next Season. She will be seventeen then and I believe arrangements will be made for her to stay with a suitable lady next spring. Until then you are here to keep her from getting into mischief.’
‘I dare say I can find ways to do that, sir. Once I have established the level she has reached in her studies, we can plan a new schedule.’
‘I hardly think you can expect to keep a young woman like Francesca in the schoolroom all day, Miss Goodrum.’
‘I would not be foolish enough to try,’ she replied, her head up, eyes meeting his. All sign of the hesitation had gone now. ‘Perhaps some poetry, music and dancing lessons would not go amiss. I imagine she already has some knowledge of French, Latin and drawing. We can find some way of making the lessons more interesting, I dare say. John may need more tuition, but I think that will be your province, Lord Myers. I am prepared to give him certain lessons if you wish, of course. I could take history and literature and mathematics. However, geography and the sciences were never my strong point, though I am willing to attempt them should you wish?’
‘I am amazed you are able to offer such a wide curriculum. I am sure my uncle did not tell me you were so accomplished.’
Did he detect a hint of colour in her cheeks—a lessening of her confidence? Why? He’d just paid her a compliment, yet he seemed to have made her uneasy. For a fleeting moment she looked uncertain, but then her head came up and she bestowed a cool smile on him.
‘I dare say you are able to take the boy’s education to a higher degree than I could, my lord. However, I am willing to help should I be required.’
Rupert’s instincts were alerted. She certainly was an unusual governess. Her manner was far from that one might expect of a woman in her late twenties who had little expectation of life other than to work for a succession of employers until she retired. This young woman did not look a day over four and twenty and she had a confident manner beyond her years, which was strangely at odds with her calling. Something about her did not ring true.
‘I understand you have been employed by Lady Mary Winters for some years?’
‘Yes, sir. I was her daughter June’s governess until recently. Miss June has gone to Bath for a visit with her mother and aunt. She no longer requires a governess, which meant that I was free to take this position.’ He noticed that her eyes seemed to be fixed on a spot beyond his left shoulder.
‘Fortunately so was I.’ Rupert smiled. ‘We must try to keep these young rascals in order. They have been allowed to run free, I fear, and their last tutor and governess left at rather short notice.’
‘I was told they might be a little difficult at times?’
‘I do hope you are not frightened of frogs? John apparently has a habit of putting them in the governess’s bed.’
‘Ah, I see.’ She smiled. Rupert caught his breath. There was something very engaging about this young woman, a way she had of holding her head and of sometimes looking straight at you. ‘Thank you for the warning. I do not dislike the creatures, but would not wish to find one in my bed. I shall make sure to inspect it each night before getting in.’
‘If you find something unpleasant, let me know. I’ll deal with the culprit.’
‘Oh, I dare say I can manage,’ she said. ‘My cousin was forever playing such tricks when we were both children. Uncle William was glad to pack him off to E...to school.’ A hint of pink touched her cheeks. She drew breath, lifted her head and met his curious gaze. ‘Do you wish me to prepare a curriculum for you to inspect, sir?’
‘Good grief, no. I shall leave Francesa’s lessons to you. However, I think we should arrange for her to have dancing lessons—perhaps someone will know of a local man who could come in once or twice a week.’
‘I would be happy to play the pianoforte. If there is no master to be found, you might supply the lack. I can teach her the steps if you would practise with her.’
‘Is there no end to your talents?’
‘I...have an interest in music and dancing, also deportment. I think I may be able to teach Francesca how to enter a drawing room in society and how to conduct herself, to engage others in conversation...enough so that she does not feel strange when she meets her chaperon next spring.’
‘Indeed? I would not have thought you would have had much experience in the drawing rooms of society hostesses?’
Rupert saw her colour deepen and knew he’d scored a hit. It was perhaps a little unfair of him to say such a thing to her, but he had not been able to resist it. This confident young woman had aroused his curiosity. He was quite certain that she was not what she was pretending to be. Governesses did not meet the eyes of their employer so boldly nor did they have much experience of society.
‘I have acted as companion to a lady of quality,’ she replied, her head up. ‘Besides, one is accustomed to being with ladies and young women of...breeding.’
‘Tell me, Miss Goodrum—where were you educated?’
‘I...my father employed a governess for me and I went to Miss Hale’s school in Newcastle for young
ladies for a period of two years. It was a highly respectable academy, I assure you.’
‘What manner of man is your father?’
Her body stiffened. ‘My references are all in order, sir. I have them to hand if you wish to see them.’
‘I am not your employer.’ Rupert’s gaze moved over her. ‘It was just idle curiosity. You are not obliged to answer me.’
‘My father ran a mine, sir. We were respectable and he was able to give me benefits that not all girls of my class receive. He died a few years ago and...I was obliged to earn my living.’
‘The manager of a mine and from the North of England, I think?’ Rupert nodded, pleased because he’d detected the slight inflection in her voice, especially when she was disturbed. ‘You are an unusual governess, Miss Goodrum. I believe we shall rub along well enough—providing that I do not discover you have lied to your employer and to me.’
Her head came up at that and her eyes flashed with temper. Rupert was tempted to laugh. He’d thought her merely attractive at the start, but he was beginning to see that there was much more to Miss Hester Goodrum than met the eye. He would swear that there was fire banked just beneath the surface.
‘Was there anything else, sir?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Rupert replied with a smile. ‘I believe we’ve only just begun, Miss Goodrum. However, we shall leave it for the moment. You will do me the honour of dining with me this evening, I hope?’
For a moment she hesitated, then she gave him a straight look that took the wind out of his sails. ‘As
I am sure you know, that would not be appropriate, Lord Myers. A governess may be asked to dine with the family on occasion, but only when the mistress of the
house is present—and certainly not alone with a gentleman.’
‘How disappointing. Now you are being a proper governess. I had hoped we might get to know each other better. Besides, Francesca and John will be dining with me. Did you really imagine I was asking you to dine intimately, Miss Goodrum? I assure you I would only do that if I had seduction in mind.’
Now the colour was high in her cheeks. She took a moment to control herself, as if afraid of speaking too quickly and betraying herself into unwise words.
‘I think you like to mock, sir. I am certain you had no such thing in mind. Why should you?’ She hesitated, then, ‘If Francesca is to dine with you, perhaps I should also be present. You may be here as John’s mentor, but you are a single gentleman and Francesca is an impressionable young girl. I think I must act as her chaperon.’
‘How wise of you to change your mind,’ he murmured softly, adding, as she left, in a voice she could not catch, ‘And who, I wonder, will chaperon you, Miss Goodrum?’
Chapter Three (#ufeff8085-7298-5e54-93e5-cf6e726fbba8)
Sarah went straight up to her room. Mrs Brancaster had asked her to return to her sitting room after the interview, but she needed a little time alone to calm her nerves. When she’d suggested that she change places with Hester Goodrum she had not dreamed she would have to run the gauntlet of those steel-grey eyes and that razor-sharp mind. Lord Myers was a man of the world and very intelligent. As herself, Sarah would have felt his equal, well able to parry any darts he fired at her, but she was at a disadvantage because she was here under false pretences. Lord Myers had warned her that he would not take kindly to lies on her part and she could imagine what he would think and say if he discovered the truth.
Cold chills ran down her spine. What on earth would she do if she were exposed as an impostor? It would be so very embarrassing and could ruin her reputation. For a moment she was tempted to turn tail and run away now before she was dragged into something beyond her control, but pride would not let her.
No, she was doing nothing wrong...not terribly wrong anyway. Having embarked on her masquerade, she could at least stay to greet the children. If the challenge became too much for her she could always hand in her notice and leave and no one would be any the wiser. Besides, it was unlikely that anyone she knew would visit Cavendish Park and, providing she gave good service, her employer would have no cause for complaint.
Having calmed her fears, Sarah changed into a fresh gown. It was clean, neat and clearly the kind of plain no-nonsense dress that a governess would be expected to wear. She pulled at the bodice because it was a little tight across her breasts. Although of similar heights, she and Hester were of a different build, Sarah being rather more curvy.
However, the dress fitted well enough and perhaps she would have time to let out the seams a little. Had she been impersonating a maid there would have been a uniform but governesses were expected to provide their own gowns.
Sarah wondered how much Hester had been promised as her wage. It was one of the many things she hadn’t had time to discuss and now regretted. Money was not a problem for the moment, because she still had several guineas in her purse and would need very little while she stayed here. She might miss her clothes and favourite pieces of jewellery, but had decided to have her trunks stored until further notice. Had the housekeeper decided to investigate her closet, it would not have done to have a dozen silk dresses hanging there. Mrs Brancaster would have immediately thought the worst, because there was only one way a governess could come by such gowns.
Hester Goodrum had given her the reference from Lady Mary, also the schedule she’d intended to set for Francesca and John. A swift perusal had left Sarah feeling that it was sadly lacking in imagination and she made a few notes in the margins of lessons she thought a young woman might enjoy.
Making her way downstairs to the kitchens, she heard voices and, since her name was mentioned, hesitated outside the door.
‘What do you think of her, then?’ a woman’s voice asked. ‘Will she last longer than a month, do you think?’
‘Well, Cook, all I can tell you is that she seems very sure of herself—and that’s what I told his lordship. She’s not like any of the others so she might just succeed where they failed.’
‘I hope as you’re right, Mrs Brancaster. Those young devils were in here earlier and they took all the cake I’d baked yesterday and I had to start all over again.’
‘Well, let’s hope she can keep them in order—’ Mrs Brancaster broke off as Sarah opened the door and walked in. ‘Ah, there you are, Miss Goodrum. We were just talking about you, wondering whether you would settle here.’
‘It is a lovely house and the grounds are magnificent,’ Sarah said. ‘Have Miss Francesca and Master John returned yet?’
‘I believe they went upstairs just a few moments ago. His lordship said we’re to serve tea at the normal time—and he asked that you should join them in the drawing room. Says he’s going to introduce you to your pupils.’
‘Oh...’ Sarah’s heart hammered in her breast. ‘I thought I was to have tea with you, but if I’ve been summoned... Where is the drawing room, please?’
‘You recall the parlour? Well, the drawing room is at the far end of the corridor and looks out over the park. Shall I send one of the maids with you?’
‘No, I dare say I can find my own way.’
‘Well, Miss Goodrum, I’m pleased you’ve come,’ Cook said, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘In my opinion it’s time those youngsters were taught some discipline.’
‘I shall do my best to make them behave, but I can’t guarantee it.’ Sarah smiled. ‘I think Lord Myers will soon have Master John under his control. I hope I may have some success with preparing Miss Francesca for her future role.’
‘She’s been allowed to run wild and that’s the truth of it,’ Cook said. ‘Their grandfather has spoiled them too much in my opinion.’
‘Well, perhaps they just need someone to take an interest in their needs. If you will excuse me, I shall find my way to the drawing room before they ring for tea.’
Sarah left the kitchen and walked up the back stairs, letting herself out into one of the back halls. For a moment she looked about her, trying to get her bearings. Had they turned left or right for the parlour? It was a large house and if she took a wrong turning she might lose herself.
‘If you’re looking for the drawing room, Miss Goodrum, you turn to the right,’ a voice said. Sarah turned and found herself being addressed by a footman. He was young and attractive, with dark blond hair and blue eyes and his smile was friendly.
‘Oh, thank you,’ she said. ‘I visited the front parlour earlier, but couldn’t quite recall which way to turn.’
‘It’s easy enough once you get used to it,’ he said. ‘I’m Trevor Bent, Miss Goodrum. Your name is Hester, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, but I don’t like it,’ Sarah said, her cheeks faintly pink. She hesitated, then, ‘My father called me Sarah. I prefer the name, if you don’t mind.’
‘I don’t mind,’ he replied and grinned. ‘May I call you Sarah—or am I being too forward?’
‘I don’t mind at all,’ she said. ‘Thank you for your help, Trevor.’
Turning in the direction the footman had pointed out, Sarah was pleased by the respectful admiration in the young man’s eyes. He seemed to like her and it was refreshing to know that he had no idea that she was rich. She was tired of being courted for her fortune—and, of late, a certain person’s pursuit had been nothing short of menacing. He was determined to push her into marriage and she was equally determined to resist—but her uncle and aunt were on his side, forever telling her what a good husband Sir Roger would make.
‘He’s a gentleman,’ Uncle Matthew had told her. ‘He won’t interfere in the running of the mills, but he’ll be there at your side to give you more authority. A woman alone can’t hope to mange everything your father left you.’
‘But I told you what he did—that he is a rogue. How can you say he would make a good husband for me?’
‘Reformed rakes make the best husbands,’ her aunt had told her with a foolish and rather coy smile. ‘I dare say he got carried away a little at the party by his love for you, Sarah. Gentlemen can be like that sometimes.’
‘Love is neither here nor there,’ her uncle had said. ‘A woman should be married and caring for her children, not managing the mills. Sir Roger has mills of his own and would take the burden from your shoulders.’
It was no use telling her uncle that Sir Roger left his mills to the care of neglectful overseers and was in danger of losing them—or that she would never subject her people to the kind of treatment they received from Sir Roger’s managers. Of course, Sir Roger never went near them himself. He was far too busy enjoying himself in London—and no doubt he imagined her money would allow him to continue with the life he desired.
Sarah had bitten back the hasty retort that rose to her lips. She had been managing her mills alone quite well, with the help of her managers. It was true that she had found it time-consuming, giving her little leisure for herself, which was why she’d decided to take this time out. Yet she would hate to relinquish them to a man like Sir Roger.
As she approached the drawing room, she heard the sound of voices raised.
‘Why doesn’t Grandfather come himself?’ a girl’s voice said on a truculent note. ‘John and I are tired of being given boring lessons and told to get on with them. We want to see other people—to have some fun.’
‘Well, you have me now. I think John is old enough to start fencing lessons and I’ll teach you how to shoot—and we’ll go fishing and play cricket, but of course you will have to do some lessons. Your governess will take you for those, but I’ll take you both for drives into town. If you behave yourselves, that is.’
‘What about me? Why should John have all the fun while I get stuck with a boring governess?’
‘I’m afraid that is a woman’s lot in life,’ Lord Myers said, but with a teasing note in his voice. ‘I dare say Miss Goodrum may allow you some fun if you behave.’
‘We don’t need her here. Why can’t we just have...?’
Sarah walked into the room. A very pretty fair-haired girl and an equally attractive youth were standing in front of the open hearth with Lord Myers. They looked cross and upset, a contrast to the carefree children she’d observed in the grounds. The girl’s English-rose colour heightened as she turned and saw her.
‘Ah, here is Miss Goodrum,’ Lord Myers said into the hushed silence. ‘As you can see, ma’am, the truants have returned. I have decided they will receive no more than a warning for this day’s escapade, but I shall not be so lenient in future.’
‘I dare say no harm was done,’ Sarah replied. ‘It was a perfect day for fishing after all. Since we did not arrive until half the day was done, it would have been a shame to waste it all indoors. I am hoping to walk with you both on pleasant days. There is no need to sit at a desk to learn. We can observe nature and practise our Latin verbs while on a walk, John—and I think you, Francesca, may find the discussion of your favourite poets as interesting in a meadow as a musty schoolroom.’
The girl’s cheeks went white and then pink. She was clearly undecided whether to show appreciation or hold on to her reserve.
‘Mr Morton made me spend the whole morning doing exercises while he sat in his chair and read a book,’ John exclaimed indignantly. ‘I want to play games and do things.’
‘So you shall.’ Sarah and Lord Myers spoke at
the same time. ‘There are many ways to learn,’ Sarah finished while the mentor looked at her through narrowed eyes.
‘What about me?’ Francesca gave them a sulky look. ‘What am I supposed to do?’
‘Learn some manners for a start,’ Lord Myers said. ‘You’ve neither of you welcomed Miss Goodrum to Cavendish Park.’
‘She didn’t have to come here.’ Francesca said rudely. ‘I’m too old for the schoolroom.’
‘That is why I intend to teach you to dance,’ Sarah said, unruffled by the girl’s sulky manner. ‘We should discuss society and what kind of people you may encounter—and the conversations you may have with friends and acquaintances. Also, you will need to know how to spot a rake and how to avoid being compromised by ruthless gentlemen.’
Francesca’s eyes opened wide. She stared in disbelief, her mouth slightly parted. ‘What did you say?’
‘We shall naturally discuss poetry and literature and you will need to practise your drawing, embroidery and the instrument of your choice—but learning to dance, to enter a room, to curtsy and to hold your own when a gentleman flirts with you is very important. You will need those skills before you have your Season.’
‘You don’t want me to write an essay on the decline of the Roman Empire or conjugate French verbs?’
‘I imagine you’ve had a varied and extensive education. We can discover the boundaries of your knowledge together in conversation. A young woman of fashion must be able to converse intelligently, do you not agree, my lord?’
Sarah risked a look at Lord Myers, who was watching her with narrowed eyes. She was not sure whether they expressed suspicion or disbelief.
‘Most young ladies of my acquaintance are too missish to say boo to a goose. They repeat phrases parrot-fashion and then lapse into embarrassed silence if asked a question.’
‘Too harsh, my lord!’ Sarah laughed, her face lighting with amusement. ‘Well, I shall hope that Francesca will have more to say for herself on her debut. If she has not, I shall have failed in my duties.’
‘Remarkable...’ Lord Myers’s eyes held a look of calculation. ‘Francesca, I think you have been more fortunate than any of us imagined in your new governess. My only question is—how did Lady Mary ever bring herself to part with you?’
Sarah refused to lower her eyes. He was probing, trying to get beneath her skin, but she would not allow him that privilege.
‘Lord Myers is using mockery, Francesca,’ she said in a calm and composed manner. ‘Were I a young woman of fashion I might do one of two things. If I wished to encourage him, I might give him an enigmatic smile and flirt with my fan—or, if I wish to discourage his advances, I should raise an eyebrow and move on without answering.’
‘Here endeth the first lesson,’ Lord Myers drawled. ‘It is actually good advice, Francesca. May one ask which you would have chosen, Miss Goodrum?’
‘I shall leave that to your imagination, my lord,’ Sarah replied, but was relieved when the door opened and the housekeeper entered accompanied by two maids, each of whom carried a tray. ‘Ah, here is our tea. Would you like to play the hostess, Francesca?’
Francesca shot her a nervous look, but took her seat next to a small occasional table. Mrs Brancaster set up her butler’s tray, exchanged a few words with Lord Myers, looked curiously at Sarah and left, taking one of the maids with her.
‘You are aware that you begin with the lady of first rank,’ Sarah told Francesca as her hand hovered. ‘However, since I am the governess, you should begin with Lord Myers and then me and then your brother. Were there several ladies of rank you should attempt to serve the highest rank first and then, when all the ladies are served, go on to the gentlemen and begin again in the same way.’
‘Miss Goodrum may be correct,’ Lord Myers said. ‘But in my opinion ladies are always first—of whatever rank. You may serve Miss Goodrum tea first, Francesca.’
Sarah shot a look at him, but did not contradict him. ‘I take my tea with lemon, no milk or sugar,’ she said and smiled as Francesca lifted the heavy pot. The girl’s hand trembled slightly but she accomplished the ceremony without accident, handing the cup to the maid who delivered it to Sarah, and serving Lord Myers next. He asked for milk and one sugar and then accepted a sandwich and fruit tartlet from the hovering maid.
After everyone had been served with tea and cake, Francesca looked at Sarah. She inclined her head and the maid was dismissed.
‘Did your last governess take tea with you both?’
‘No, she preferred to take hers in the kitchen,’ John answered, a trifle indignant. ‘Fran and me had most of our meals in the nursery together. The only time the drawing room was used was when Grandfather came down and we had guests. Mrs Brancaster served us then—or sometimes Cousin Agatha.’
‘Fran and I,’ Sarah gently corrected. ‘Your cousin visits you from time to time?’
‘Only at Christmas,’ John said. ‘We’ve been on our own for years, haven’t we, Fran?’
‘Yes.’ Francesca sipped her tea. She had crooked her little finger in an affected way, but as she looked at Sarah and saw that she held her cup in a more relaxed manner she did the same. ‘We’re both bored. Why can’t we have friends here to picnics and dances?’
‘We might have a dance on your seventeenth birthday. It’s a few weeks before Christmas,’ Lord Myers said. ‘If you attend to your dancing lessons and whatever else Miss Goodrum has to teach you, you may be ready then. We might start to entertain a few visitors, though—just to dinner and cards or some such thing.’
‘The weather is beautiful,’ Sarah said. ‘I think a picnic for your neighbours would be ideal as a way of letting people know we are receiving calls and visits. The best way to become accustomed to company is to invite them into your home. Does a picnic appeal to you, John?’
‘Can we have games and races? We went to the fete at the vicarage last summer—Fran and I won the three-legged race. It was fun.’
‘I am sure something could be arranged, but you must ask Lord Myers. I am just the governess. I can suggest, but it is not for me to decide.’
Sarah opened her eyes at him, inviting him to respond, her manner carefully controlled. His frown deepened and his gaze narrowed, as if he were trying to read her thoughts. Lord Myers was clearly not convinced that she was a governess.
Just how far would he go to discover the truth?
‘A picnic?’ His gaze moved from one eager face to another and then back to Sarah’s. ‘I seem to have been outnumbered. A picnic it is, then—but I shall expect you to write the invitations, Miss Goodrum. And you will organise the games, if you please.’
‘I’ll help you write the invitations. I know where Grandfather keeps his list of people to invite for Christmas,’ Francesca volunteered. ‘And we’ll both help with the games, won’t we, John?’
John looked at his sister and nodded. He was very much under her influence, Sarah realised. If Francesca gave the new governess her approval, half the battle would be won.
They were talking excitedly about what they wanted at their picnic. Sarah smiled inwardly while helping herself to a dainty almond comfit. This was exactly how she saw family life in the country and she was enjoying herself. However, she knew the battle was not yet won. At the moment the children were getting their own way and were therefore prepared to be amenable, but at the first hint of authority they might change like the wind.
Sarah was very conscious of being scrutinised by Lord Myers. She felt that he did not know what to make of her and was taking his time in deciding. Sarah found herself wishing that she was the governess she professed to be, because she wanted to stay here and be a part of this charmed circle.
A little shiver started at the nape of her neck as she imagined what they would say and think if they knew she was the rich Miss Hardcastle escaping from the pursuit of an overeager suitor. Would they feel betrayed or angry? Of course they would, because she’d lied to get her position here. She had no qualifications for her position as a governess, other than the fact that she had herself been schooled by an excellent governess and spent two years at a finishing school for young ladies.
Sarah hoped that Lord Myers would not discover just how expensive her school had been, because he would wonder how the daughter of a mine manager could afford the fees.
‘Will you teach me to waltz?’
Francesca brought her mind back to the present. ‘I shall do my best and when you’re ready you may practise with your tutor.’
‘My tutor?’ Francesca gave a little laugh. ‘Lord Myers is my cousin,’ she said, making the situation clearer. ‘Grandfather is his uncle.’
‘We are second cousins,’ Lord Myers told her. ‘Your mother was my cousin.’
‘Oh...’ Francesca nodded. ‘It’s the same thing. My last governess told me that all the aristocracy were part of the cousinry—everyone is related to everyone else through marriage, if not by blood.’
‘I’ve heard it said.’ Lord Myers inclined his head. ‘I’m not sure it’s true—though many are related in some way. You don’t have a male cousin, Francesca. I’m your nearest male relative apart from your grandfather. I have a married sister. Have you met Lady Meadows at all?’
Francesca shook her head. ‘Grandfather asked her to stay last Christmas, but she refused.’
‘Jane was having her first child at about that time. She had been married just over a year and wanted to rest to make certain there were no accidents.’
‘Will she come for my birthday dance?’
Francesca’s expression was uncertain, a little pleading, and Sarah’s heart went out to her. She was surely in need of female company and advice.
‘I shall certainly ask.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘You must not worry, Francesca. In a few months you will be out and you’ll meet lots of people—ladies and gentlemen.’
‘It’s so long to wait.’
‘You must learn patience,’ he said. ‘A properly brought-up young lady does not expect everything to happen to suit her. It will not be like that when you are married.’
‘If I ever marry,’ Francesca said and sighed.
‘You will when you’re ready,’ Sarah assured her. ‘Marriage is to be expected and hoped for in your case, Francesca—but there is no hurry. You should enjoy being courted and meeting people. Once you’re out there will be dances and lots of exciting things to do. One day you will fall in love and marry the man of your dreams.’
‘My last governess said I should be required to marry for money and position.’ Francesca tossed her head defiantly, as if to challenge them.
‘Why should you? I think that was a foolish thing to say. A girl like you will be able to take your pick. When you are invited into society you will meet lots of gentlemen, and I’m sure you’ll find one that will make you happy, if you give yourself time. Do not throw yourself away on the first to ask you.’
‘Have you been asked more than once?’
‘Yes, several times...’ Sarah answered without thinking. ‘I refused because...I wasn’t in love.’
‘Love?’ Lord Myers snorted his disgust. ‘Marriage is for property and money, Francesca. Do not expect too much from life and you will not be disappointed.’
‘Is that true, Miss Goodrum?’
All eyes turned to her and Sarah felt warm. She guessed that her cheeks were very pink.
‘Money and property are useful, but I would prefer to live in a cottage with a man I loved than be a fine lady in a manor.’
She had given her pupil a false impression by implying that she cared nothing for money. Her own situation was entirely different—and yet she would not advise marrying for position alone.
‘Of course having money is very useful,’ she added conscientiously.
‘I think I shall marry for love. I want more than just a convenient arrangement,’ Francesca announced and her head went up as if defying her cousin to challenge her.
‘I think you are wise. You should think carefully before committing yourself.’
‘I shall not marry unless I fall in love.’
‘You cannot throw yourself away on an adventurer,’ Sarah said. ‘But I would hold your heart in reserve until you find someone who will show you love rather than mere affection.’
Francesca was silent, but obviously thoughtful. Lord Myers was frowning, perhaps shocked by the new governess’s unconventional opinions. Sarah realised that she was speaking her mind, but perhaps in a way that might not benefit her pupil.
‘Of course you would wish your husband to be a gentleman and of reasonable fortune.’
‘So love in a cottage might not be everything after all?’
Lord Myers threw her a mocking look that stung Sarah. She wanted to retort sharply, but decided she had been indiscreet enough for one day and merely inclined her head, as if acknowledging his hit.
* * *
After tea, Sarah asked to be taken up to the schoolroom and both Francesca and John accompanied her, leaving Lord Myers to do whatever gentlemen did until it was time to change for dinner.
Sarah glanced at some of the work her pupils had done, thought it uninspired and dull, but made no comment. They looked at the books that had been provided and she shook her head over the lack of history and literature.
‘Does the marquess have a library here?’
‘There are shelves of books,’ Francesca said. ‘The last tutor spent most of his time there and told us it was off limits, because the books were too valuable to be touched by ignorant children.’
‘Good gracious!’ Sarah was shocked. ‘How could he have been so impolite! I feel his attitude showed a lack of both manners and sense. I shall ask Lord Myers if we may use the library for our lessons when there are no guests staying. This room is too isolated and dark. If the library is on the ground floor, we can have the windows and doors open on nice days and take our books outside.’
‘You’re different,’ John said, looking at her oddly. ‘Not like a governess at all. Do we have to call you Miss Goodrum?’
Sarah hesitated, then shook her head. ‘In company it might be wise to do so—but when we are together you may call me Sarah if you wish.’
‘I thought your name was Hester Goodrum?’
‘My father called me Sarah and I prefer it.’ Sarah felt the open-eyed scrutiny of the young girl and guilt struck her. She had not given enough thought to this escapade before changing places with the governess. It felt uncomfortable to lie to this girl, more so than the eagle-eyed man who was here to overlook their education.
She wanted to be Francesca’s friend. She sensed that the girl was lonely and needed the love of a mother or an elder sister. Sarah would like to give her friendship, to have her trust and like her—but their friendship must be based on a lie, and that hurt.
She would make up for her deceit somehow. As she heard the eagerness in the young girl’s voice, Sarah vowed that she would do all she could to make her happy and to prepare her for a life in society. If things went as she hoped, no one need know that she was not Hester Goodrum and when she left them no harm would have been done.
Chapter Four (#ufeff8085-7298-5e54-93e5-cf6e726fbba8)
Sarah lost no time in changing for the evening after her pupils had gone to their own rooms. John was clearly excited at the prospect for it was the first time he had been allowed to have dinner in the dining room, with the exception of Christmas dinner, which was always earlier so that the staff could enjoy a little free time in the evening. Francesca was pleased, but trying hard to be grown-up and take it all in her stride.
Having changed quickly into a simple grey-silk gown, which was the only one of her own that Sarah had brought with her and suitable for dinner should she be summoned to dine with the family, she went downstairs to find Lord Myers. One of the footmen directed her to the library and she found him perusing the shelves, which were set out on three sides of the room. There were several long windows to let in the light and a set of French windows, which might be opened to allow access to the garden. A perfect room for studying.
‘Forgive me for disturbing you, my lord,’ she said in what she hoped was the tone a governess might use. ‘I see you enjoy reading, which may make you more disposed to granting my request. I find the schoolroom inadequately provided for my pupils’ education and I hoped we might have permission to use the library for an hour or two each morning.’
He turned to look at her, his eyes narrowing as they studied her. Sarah wondered if her gown was too smart. It was the simplest she had and she would not have worn it had he not made it impossible for her to refuse to dine with him.
‘I am not sure what my uncle would think about his privacy being invaded should he decide to come down—but while he is in London I see no reason why we should not share the facility. I like to read in the evenings when we do not have company, but I shall be busy in the estate office in the mornings. Shall we say from nine-thirty to eleven-thirty the library is yours and the children’s?’
‘That is most generous, my lord.’ Sarah approached the shelves. ‘Is there a good poetry section? I dare say there is little new here...’
‘Oh, I think you may find enough to keep yourselves amused. My uncle may not visit often, but he is a collector of books. You will not find books bought by the yard here. All of them have been read and handled—and there are a few new novels here. I imagine my uncle bought them for his niece.’
‘John told me their last tutor forbade them the use of this room.’
‘Then he exceeded his authority.’ Lord Myers looked annoyed. ‘It seems to me that my uncle has been ill served as regards to his grandchildren. They were neglected, Miss Goodrum. I do not intend that it shall happen again.’
‘John will benefit from your tuition, sir. I hope I may do the same for Francesca.’
‘She admires you.’ His gaze was stern, his sensual mouth set in a hard line. ‘You will not let her down, Miss Goodrum. I shall be watching her progress.’
‘I hope to prove my worth to you.’ Sarah raised her head. ‘Thank you for your generosity.’
‘The library should be available to all.’ His gaze intensified, dwelling on her in a way that sent little shivers down her spine. ‘I am not sure who you are, Miss Goodrum—but I intend to discover the truth.’
‘I am not sure I understand you.’
‘Do you not? Then perhaps I am wrong—but I sense a mystery. If I discover that you are not what you profess to be, I shall be merciless. As I told you before, I do not take kindly to liars.’
Sarah found it difficult to suppress the shiver that ran through her. Had she given herself away already? How could he know that she was not a governess—and what did he imagine her to be?
‘Francesca is an impressionable young girl,’ he continued. ‘She has begun to trust you. Please do not give me cause to dismiss you. I should be loath to destroy her faith in the first person to offer her friendship.’
‘I have no intention of harming either John or Francesca.’
He moved towards her, staring down into her face for a moment before reaching out to tilt her chin so that she was forced to look into his eyes. Sarah felt a tingle of some strange new sensation; it started low in her abdomen and spread throughout her body, making her feel hot. Her cheeks were warm and she wanted to jerk away, but held her ground.
‘Are you an adventuress?’ he asked, quirking a dark eyebrow. She could not help noticing that his mouth looked perfect for kissing and she trembled inside. A man like this was dangerous. Despite his sensual appeal, he had a look of iron about him and she feared what he might do if he guessed she had deceived them all. ‘What do you hope to gain by coming here? Did you think you might capture yourself a wealthy husband? Had you heard Merrivale was a lonely old man who might fall for your charms?’
Sarah caught her breath and then the absurdity of his question made her laugh. It was so far from the truth that she felt her tension melting away.
‘You have a vivid imagination, Lord Myers,’ she said. ‘I do not count my charms so high that I would ever seek to advance myself in the way you suggest. I am sorry I have given you such a poor opinion of my character. I assure you it is undeserved.’
‘Indeed?’ He bent his head and kissed her, his mouth soft and yet demanding, evoking a swift response. For a moment she felt light-headed, her heart racing as he deepened his kiss, and she wanted to swoon into his arms. Something inside her longed to respond to his demand and she felt a rising need, a sweet heat between her thighs that she had never experienced before.
Suddenly realising that her response must be confirming his opinion of her, she placed her hands against his shoulders and pushed him back. As anger replaced the feeling of bliss, she raised her hand and would have slapped him as hard as she could had he not caught her by the wrist.
‘So there is fire beneath the cool calm exterior,’ he murmured and there was devilry in his eyes. ‘You intrigue me, Miss Goodrum. I am not usually wrong in my first impressions and I know you have not always been a governess. You are hiding something, but I shall find you out.’
‘You are no gentleman, sir,’ she replied coldly. The look she gave him had quelled the mill managers who had tried to dismiss her authority when she took over her father’s business empire. They had sought to cheat and ridicule her, but she’d faced them down—and she would put this rogue in his place. Even if she had felt close to swooning at his kiss—but that just showed she was a foolish spinster starved of a man’s love. What on earth was she thinking of to have allowed it to continue before pushing him away? He was far from being the kind of husband she needed, were she to decide to marry. ‘I am aware that you have a privileged position in this house but that does not give you the right to question my morality or to attempt seduction in this manner. If you ever behave this way again I shall give in my notice—and I shall make it plain to the marquess why I was forced to leave.’
‘She has claws,’ he said, looking amused. ‘Come, Miss Goodrum, you did not find the experience so very unpleasant, I think?’
‘You insulted me and then tried to take advantage of me. I should like to make it plain that I will not stand for such behaviour. If you feel me unsuited to the position, you may dismiss me.’
‘Dismiss you?’ His gaze burned her to the core and her stomach clenched. ‘Oh, no, I have no intention of sending you away until I discover the truth. I thought I might find an extended visit to the country a trifle boring, but it is no such thing. I shall enjoy crossing swords with you, Miss Goodrum.’
‘I would prefer that you keep your distance. We must remain on good terms for the sake of the children, my lord—but I see no reason for our paths to cross other than in their company.’
‘Do you not?’ He smiled oddly. ‘You rest on your dignity, but it was a different matter when I kissed you. Yet I would not harm you if you are truly what
you claim to be. We shall endeavour to be polite to one another for the sake of John and Francesca—but you are the most unusual governess I have ever met.’
‘Is that necessarily a bad thing?’ Sarah raised her eyes to his. ‘I give you my word that I am not an adventuress, nor did I come here to entrap anyone into marriage.’
‘Shall I believe you?’ He looked at her steadily. His strong features had relaxed and there was a teasing light in his eyes, as if he were playing with her, as a cat with a mouse. ‘Yes, perhaps I shall. So what is it you are hiding? Are you in trouble? I might be able to help you if that is the case.’
‘I am perfectly capable of looking after my own affairs.’ Sarah raised her head proudly. ‘I believe that was the dinner gong. We should go in or we shall keep the others waiting.’
He inclined his head, offering her his arm. ‘As you say, Miss Goodrum. Please accept my apologies if I have wronged you.’
Sarah hesitated and then placed the tips of her fingers on his arm, her head high as they walked towards the dining room. She could only keep her distance and hope he would do the same.
The last thing she’d expected when she came here was to find herself having to fend off the advances of a man she suspected was a rake. Charming and undeniably attractive, he would make most female hearts flutter, but Sarah had come here to escape from the unwanted attentions of a similar man.
Had she been less stubborn she might have fled the next morning, but she had no intention of letting Lord Myers drive her away.
* * *
Rupert watched the governess across the table as she talked and laughed with her pupils. She seemed very at home, very much as if she were accustomed to dining in style, and showed no hesitation in choosing the correct glasses and silver. Her manner was calm and assured, and, apart from the dark looks she sent his way now and then, she seemed perfectly at ease. He knew himself at fault for that kiss, but she’d looked at him with such a challenge in her eyes that he’d been tempted. If she were truly what she claimed, he had wronged her, but his instincts told him that she was far from the downtrodden drudge that most women in her situation became after a few years.
The dress she was wearing this evening was far too stylish to belong to a governess. It was plain and simple, but in perfect taste, and must have cost as much as she would earn in a year. How could she possibly own a dress like that if she were what she claimed to be? It must have been given to her, possibly made to fit her—and who would give a governess such a gift? Yet it was not what he would have purchased for a mistress. Instead it had an understated elegance that a lady with refined taste might choose.
The gown had made him think she must be an adventuress, which had led him into that foolish kiss. He was here to mentor his uncle’s grandchildren and the last thing he should contemplate was an affair with their governess. Perhaps a grateful employer had given her the gown, as a gift?
If that were the case, he had definitely wronged her, but it did not explain her manner. Summoned to eat with their employer, most governesses would show reserve or some awkwardness even if their manners were excellent, as hers were. No, she was accustomed to dining like this—and she felt it her right.
Only a woman who felt assured of her place in the world could be so at home in the situation he had forced her to accept. Had he met her in society he would not have placed her in the upper echelons, but she would certainly be accepted. Why, then, was she a governess? Had her family fallen on hard times? Yet if she were in desperate need of a job she would not be so confident—so assured. His suspicion deepened. Rupert had reason enough to distrust the female sex. His heart broken when he was no more than a lad, he’d never offered it again. Since then he’d amused himself with ladies of a certain kind, most of them married or widowed. A few of his mistresses had been courtesans, prepared to sell themselves to the highest bidder, and were usually not to be trusted.
Miss Goodrum did not follow the pattern for a downtrodden governess, which made him certain that she was not what she claimed. It followed that she was hiding something—but rather than fear he’d seen a challenge in her eyes. And she had responded to that kiss.
Her manner had aroused Rupert’s hunting instincts. He found her intriguing, and, yes, had he met her in other circumstances, he might have attempted to make her his mistress.
Who was she and why was she here? Their eyes met across the table and he smiled, seeing the uncertainty in hers. Had he made an enemy of her? Rupert suddenly found himself hoping that he could recover the lost ground. She looked so right somehow as she laughed and teased John and encouraged Francesca. He experienced a strange emotion that he could not place—as if he had found a place of content, of belonging.
For the first time in an age he wanted to be a part of that family scene. It struck him then that Miss Goodrum was more like an aunt or an elder sister to Francesca, and the smile on her lips was both generous and sweet.
Yet there was a mystery here. He’d sensed it from the start and he took hold of his emotions, reining them in. A woman’s smile could deceive so easily. He’d been burned as a young man, his pride ripped to pieces and his heart damaged. Since then he’d chosen carefully and made sure that none of the ladies he took to his bed had buried their claws in his skin.
The governess had claws. There was passion and fire beneath the cool exterior. It would certainly prove amusing to discover who she really was and why she’d come here.
What was she hiding from?
* * *
John was sent to bed as soon as dinner was over. Francesca was allowed to drink a dish of tea in the drawing room with her governess, but as soon as Lord Myers joined them, he sent her off to bed. Sarah immediately rose to her feet to follow. He caught her wrist, as she would have passed him.
The candles were burning low in their sconces and the fire had ceased to burn fiercely. Shadows seemed to creep over the room, making it feel intimate and tempting her to stay—but she must not!
‘There is no need for you to leave, Miss Goodrum.’
‘I think there is every need, sir. Please allow me to pass.’ Sarah’s heart raced at his nearness, the mystique of his scent powerful and attractive. She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, knowing that this was a dangerous situation. She must go before he tried to seduce her.
He let go reluctantly, his expression odd and almost regretful. ‘I am sorry for what I said earlier. I was testing you. You must admit that dress is not the usual attire for a governess.’
‘No, I suppose not. It belongs to the time when my father was alive. He bought it for me as a gift. My father was careful with his money, sir, and he spent it on me.’
Sarah avoided his searching gaze, though her words were not far from the truth. She’d purchased the gown when her first period of mourning was over with the money her beloved father had left her and because it was a favourite she’d kept it. Had she worn some of her other newer gowns she could not have hoped to keep her secret.
‘Then I apologise for casting aspersions on your character. Come, Miss Goodrum, will you not forgive me?’
‘Consider yourself forgiven, my lord. I only wish to be on good terms with you.’
She deliberately made her voice flat, calm and
emotionless, hoping that her reserve would make him step back.
‘Then I shall not tease you again. We must not allow our charges to sense animosity between us.’
‘No, that would be unfortunate,’ she agreed, bringing her eyes up to his. His expression set her heart thumping. She had seen that look in a man’s eyes before and it disturbed her. Normally she had no hesitation in dealing with unwanted seducers, but this man was different, more powerful and compelling than any other she’d met. ‘We shall try to be easy in one another’s company for their sakes.’
‘May I not be counted as a friend?’
‘I think you ask a little too much, sir. I hardly know you—but perhaps in time we may progress to friendship.’
‘Very well. I was wrong to assume you were an adventuress—but my offer remains. If you are in trouble, I should be glad to be of service.’
‘Thank you. I shall bear that in mind. Now, if you will excuse me, sir.’
‘Very well. I shall not detain you against your will. I shall take John riding first thing in the morning, but he will be back in time for his lessons.’
‘You must do as you think fit, sir. I believe he has a great deal of energy that needs an outlet. Riding, fencing and other sports may help him to settle to his studies.’
‘I believe so. Goodnight, Miss Goodrum. Pleasant dreams.’
‘Thank you.’
Sarah inclined her head and walked on past him. Her heart had raced at his touch, but she had clamped down on her foolish emotions. Gentlemen in his position too often took advantage of female employees who could not easily escape their attentions. He had promised not to bother her again, but the look in his eyes had said something different.
She could not deny that she had felt the pull of his attraction, but he was not for her. As Miss Hardcastle she might attract proposals from gentlemen who needed a fortune to finance their extravagant lifestyles, but if she was not prepared to buy herself a husband, she certainly had no intention of becoming any man’s mistress. Sarah might choose marriage if the right opportunity presented itself—but not to a man like Lord Myers.
She did not know his fortune, but she recognised the sensuality of the man, the attraction that must make him popular with ladies of his own class—and others. Sarah had no doubt that he was a physical man who took mistresses whenever he chose—and that was not the kind of man she needed in her life. Such a man could not be trusted. As charming as he was, she would never be certain that he would not stray into another’s bed. Sarah knew that only a very beautiful and clever woman would capture the heart of a man like that, and she could not hope that he would want more from her than a brief affair to enliven a dull stay in the country.
Nor did she wish it, of course. When Sarah married, if she ever did, it would be to a quiet man who enjoyed books; a man who would be there if she needed him but also be content to stay in the background and allow her to continue to run her mills, should she wish to do so. Sarah had fought for the right to run her mills, but was not sure whether she wished to continue. Were she happily married with a family she thought she might be content to let her husband take over her affairs. However, she did not intend to be dictated to and told she must relinquish them entirely. She could not imagine that Lord Myers would ever be content to let his wife do something he would consider beneath her dignity.
He was a very attractive man, but his character left much to be desired from what she’d seen thus far. He would not make a suitable husband for Miss Sarah Hardcastle and might run through her fortune in an instant, given the opportunity.
She had not run away from one fortune hunter to fall into the arms of another, even if she did find him attractive. No such thing! She was not truly attracted to him.
It was merely that she had been lonely since her father died, of course. Her father had been such a loving companion and what she really wanted was someone to take his place, to care for her and watch over her, but demand little other than warm affection.
Lord Myers would not have received more than a moment’s fleeting attention from her had they met in company. It was only that she was forced to live in what was undoubtedly an intimate situation with him.
What had brought him here? He did not seem the kind of man to relish the obligations that his uncle had asked of him. She would have thought him more at home in the drawing rooms of London society, rather than playing mentor to a young boy. Why should he give up his time and his way of life to come down here?
He accused her of hiding, but perhaps he too had something to hide? What had made him the man he was? Sarah wondered if some secret lay in his past. He was of an age to have been married for some years. Surely he must want a wife and children of his own—though of course she was assuming he had not for she knew so little about him. However, Francesca would surely have mentioned it if he had a wife?
So why had he stayed single? What had brought that hard glitter to his eyes and the brittle layer that hid the real man from the casual eye? He had a sense of humour, she knew—so what had made him so suspicious of her? Was it just that he did not trust women in general?
Oh, this was ridiculous! She must dismiss him from her mind for it was dangerous to allow a man like that into her thoughts.
Despite her determination to be sensible, Sarah found her thoughts dwelling too often on the handsome Lord Rupert as she undressed. She pulled down the covers on her bed, looking for any unpleasant objects that a teenage boy might have placed there as a prank, but found nothing untoward. Obviously, she’d passed her first test with the children at least.
She would forget their mentor and concentrate her thoughts on them. She was here to be of service to the children.
Francesca wasn’t a child, though. She was on the verge of womanhood. In past centuries she might have been married by now; she might even have had a child of her own. To treat her as a child would be foolish. Sarah had taken to the girl and, as she slipped into bed and leaned forwards to blow out the candle beside it, she was determined to do what she could to make her life better. She would enjoy getting to know her charge and she would find it pleasant to share her own love of reading, poetry, history and even the occasional novel.
There was a wealth of books on the library shelves, including some with pictures of mythical beasts that she thought might appeal to John. Perhaps she wasn’t a conventional governess, but she was quite capable of giving them both an education. Sarah loved to play the pianoforte and she thought Francesca might enjoy playing a duet with her.
Life here could be extremely comfortable and pleasant. She would be able to walk first thing in the morning if her lessons were not to start until nine-thirty. She would have liked to ride, but wasn’t sure that privilege would be granted to a governess.
For a moment she felt a pang of regret. Her own horses would miss her and so would her dogs—and some of her servants. She had written to reassure everyone that she was quite safe. She would have to make sure that she kept in touch with her agents or they might become anxious about her and set up a search to find her.
Closing her eyes, Sarah drifted off to sleep, though her dreams were unaccountably disturbed by the look on a man’s face.
‘Who are you?’ he asked. ‘I shall find you out...you cannot hide from me...’
* * *
Rupert frowned as he brooded over his glass of wine after the governess had gone up. The shadows seemed to fold about him and he was aware that the room seemed empty. He was a fool to allow the woman under his skin, because very likely she would turn out to be the adventuress he’d imagined her at first. Yet something about her had captured his interest and he’d wanted her to stay after the children had gone up.
It was years since Rupert had enjoyed feminine company—other than in bed. Most society women bored him and he was wary of foolish young misses who were out to capture a husband. To have sat talking into the night with an intelligent woman would be pleasant, he thought.
In London he was seldom aware that he was lonely because he spent his evenings either at his club in the company of male friends, drinking, gambling or talking of politics and the price of stocks, or with his mistress. Had his uncle been here he might not have realised his lack, but in this situation it had come to him forcibly that his life was far from satisfactory.
As a young man Rupert had imagined that he would fall in love, marry and rear a large family, but a woman who preferred money and a superior title had shattered those dreams. He’d taken his bruised heart and damaged pride off to war and had for a time found content with his fellow officers—but when they turned against him...
Rupert’s mind shied away from the memories. Mixed with the pain of seeing his men broken and dying, their blood spilling out on the hot dry earth, what happened later was too painful to contemplate. He’d shut away his pain and hurt, just as he’d shut out the humiliation he’d received at a woman’s hands, determined to rise above the petty spite of others. And he’d succeeded so well that he’d come to be what he wanted others to think him—careless, stern and reserved. Rupert needed no one’s approval. He was his own man, ruled by principles of iron and he answered to no one. Only a few ever saw the other side of him—a side he had almost forgotten.
Once he’d known how to enjoy the small pleasures in life. He’d known how to love, to show caring and to give and take joy from being intimate with another.
That was years ago, before he’d learned that no woman was to be trusted. They were all the same—greedy, grabbing, jealous little kittens that liked to be stroked and given a saucer of cream, but would scratch you if you annoyed them.
Undoubtedly, the governess was exactly the same, though for the moment he confessed to being more than a little intrigued, if only by the mystery he sensed in her past.
Yet she had reached out to him in a way few other women ever had, arousing feelings of need and desire with just one flash of her gorgeous eyes.
* * *
Sarah awoke when a maid drew back the curtains. She yawned and stretched, her mind still lost in dreams as she said, ‘Good morning, Tilly. Have you brought my chocolate?’
‘It’s Agnes, Miss Goodrum—and you told Mrs Brancaster you would take breakfast downstairs.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Sarah said, the realisation of where she was returning with a rush. She had given herself away and could only hope the maid would not repeat her words to others. ‘If I go down immediately I shall be finished by the time the family is up. I do not see why you should wait on me.’
‘I’ve brought your hot water, miss—as Mrs Brancaster told me.’
‘Thank you, that was kind.’ Sarah threw back the covers. On waking she’d thought she was at home and her own maid was bringing her the hot chocolate she took every morning before she rose.
It would be a while before she accustomed herself to the life she had chosen—a very different life, but one that had its own compensations.
After Agnes had gone, Sarah washed, dressed in one of Hester’s sensible gowns and, on looking from the window to see the sun was shining, decided against a shawl. Since she was walking on private grounds she saw no reason to wear a bonnet and left her room without one.
She found her way down the back stairs to a side entrance that led into a walled garden. The bricks were faded, trailed with roses and clematis, and would look a picture in a few weeks from now. However, she was accustomed to long country walks near her home and left the pleasant garden to explore more of the estate. She had insufficient time to walk as far as the village she’d seen, but would certainly do so on her day off. Hester had been promised one a month, which could be saved and taken together for visits home. Sarah would require only a few hours of freedom, perhaps in the early mornings or at night. If necessary, she might have to visit her home to reassure her anxious friends—if she continued here for more than a few weeks, of course.
Should Lord Myers discover her true identity she might find herself summarily dismissed. Sarah would be truly sorry if that happened. She had a lovely house herself and friends, but at home there was always the sense that she was being watched...that people were waiting for her to make mistakes.
She would forget her worries and enjoy her walk. The air was fresh and there was a hint of real warmth for later. Sarah walked as far as a small lake, where she watched ducks and swans gliding on its still waters. There was an intriguing wood to the right of the lake and a summer house that looked interesting. Perhaps she had found the site for their picnic, she mused as she returned to the house.
Her walk had made her hungry and she entered the breakfast room, thinking she would have it to herself, but a little to her dismay she discovered Lord Myers sitting at the table. He got to his feet as she entered, came round the table and pulled out a chair.
‘I was hoping you might join me, Miss Goodrum.’
‘I thought I might have finished before the family came down.’
‘You will not disturb me. I enjoy company at meals and I am an early riser, unlike most of my friends, who rarely show their faces before noon.’
Sarah’s cheeks were warm. She kept her back towards him as she looked beneath the silver covers and chose from scrambled eggs, kedgeree, devilled kidneys and bacon, making her choice before returning to the table.
‘I did not wish to make more work for the maids by having my breakfast brought up. Mrs Brancaster thought it would be suitable for me to take my meals here since you invited me to dine last evening.’
‘Why make more work for the servants? I’ve told John and Francesca that they may join us for all meals. We are a small family, Miss Goodrum, so why not make the most of each other’s company?’
‘It seems ridiculous to have meals taken to the nursery when we do not intend to spend much time there.’
‘Exactly. Others may find the practice unconventional, but I can see no reason why the children of the family should not join their parents—unless they are ill-behaved and would annoy the guests.’
‘We have no guests....’
‘How perceptive of you, Miss Goodrum,’ he said and there was a gleam of mockery in his eyes.
‘Do you enjoy mocking everything and everyone?’
‘If one could not laugh at the world it would be a dull place, do you not agree?’
‘Yes, perhaps.’ Sarah’s mouth was unaccountably smiling despite her determination to keep her distance. ‘Do you intend on inviting guests to stay?’
If he did so she would need to change her arrangements, for guests would not expect to see the governess at every meal.
‘We may have that picnic John was so keen on and we shall encourage people to visit for tea—but I think no house guests at the moment. Unless my uncle decides to visit; he might come down at any time, of course.’
‘You were not thinking of holding a dinner?’
‘Not for the moment. Unless, as I said, my uncle decides to visit his grandchildren. He told me he has no intention of it until Christmas, but he might change his mind.’
‘Yes, I can see that would change things.’ Sarah swallowed a little scrambled egg and a piece of kidney. She touched the napkin to her mouth and glanced at him. ‘Would it be rude of me to ask why a gentleman like you would agree to be John’s mentor for six months? I should have thought you might prefer to be in town—or have business at your own estate.’
‘Should you?’ His brows rose. ‘I see no reason why I should answer your question, but I shall tell you that my estate is within a day’s ride should I need to visit it—and I do have agents and managers to run it for me.’
‘Yes, of course, but there is always some little detail needing attention, do you not find? Things that only you can decide...’ Sarah dipped her head as his eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘My father always said he could not leave his business for long...’
‘I thought you said he was a mine manager?’
‘Yes, he was,’ Sarah agreed. ‘He was always very busy and had little time for his family. Especially after my mother died.’
‘Was that long ago?’
‘I was twelve at the time. I grew closer to my father and sometimes accompanied him on...’ She had been going to say journeys, for her father had travelled between the mine and the mills. ‘On his way to work,’ she finished lamely.
‘That was before you went to school?’
‘Yes, I had a governess. She did not approve of me spending so much time at the m...mine.’ Again she had been going to say mills and bit back her words. This was a dangerous subject and if she were not careful she would betray herself.
At that moment the door opened and both John and Francesca entered. After exchanging greetings with Sarah and Lord Myers, they went to the sideboard and began to choose from the various dishes. John was clearly impressed by the choice and spent some time filling his plate.
‘Can you eat all that?’ Sarah asked. ‘You must remember that we shall eat nuncheon later—unless we just have some fruit and biscuits? I thought we might ramble later this afternoon. We can collect wild flowers and stones, things that we can draw or make into a collection. If Lord Myers has no other plans?’
‘I couldn’t resist,’ John said honestly. ‘We never get all this in the nursery. I should like to go rambling if Rupert has nothing else planned.’
‘As a matter of fact, I had planned that we should start your fencing lessons after nuncheon. We shall spend an hour teaching you the first moves and then I had thought you might wish to play a ball game on the lawn. However, you may go walking after the fencing lesson if you prefer.’
‘No, I’d rather stay with you,’ John said and attacked his food as if he had been starved for the past year.
‘Better slow down a bit,’ Lord Myers advised and John immediately sat back, chewing more thoroughly.
‘I’d like to play ball games,’ Francesca said. ‘I’d like to watch the fencing, too—but it may be best if I wait until John has learned a few moves. We could ramble for a while and then come back and join the others, couldn’t we, Sarah?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Sarah said and saw Lord Myers’s brows shoot up. ‘I told Francesca she might use my preferred name when we are alone, my lord.’
‘Indeed, Miss Goodrum?’ He looked at her through narrowed eyes. ‘I thought your name was Hester?’
Sarah felt her cheeks growing warm. ‘I never liked the name and my father had a pet name for me. It was my mother’s name also....’
‘I see. Are we all allowed to call you by this...pet name? Or is it only for Francesca?’
‘In company I think it would be best if I remained Miss Goodrum. I leave the rest to your good sense, Lord Myers.’
‘Ah, I see.’ A gleam appeared in his eyes. ‘I shall give the matter my full attention, Miss Goodrum.’
Sarah felt her cheeks flame. Had they been alone she might have made a sharp retort, but decided to change the subject.
For the remainder of their meal, she addressed her remarks to John and Francesca and was relieved when Lord Myers got up and excused himself.
‘I have some estate business to attend to while I am here,’ he said. ‘I shall see you after nuncheon, John—and we shall play some kind of ball game on the lawns at about three this afternoon.’
* * *
Soon after he departed Sarah left the others to finish and went to the library. She had chosen the books they were to discuss by the time Francesca and John arrived. Having found a bestiary for John to peruse and some poetry books that she thought Francesca would like, she spent the next half an hour reading poetry. As she chose a poem that told of daring deeds and men’s lives laid down on the field of battle, she was not surprised that John paid full attention to her reading.
‘It was a brave thing Horatio did in laying down his life for the men he fought with, wasn’t it, miss?’ he said when she put down the book. ‘I think I should like to be a soldier and fight for honour and glory.’
‘Perhaps you will when you are older.’ Sarah smiled at him. ‘Now I am going to read a romantic poem for Francesca’s sake. You may wish to peruse your bestiary, John—but I should like you to write me a short piece about the battle scenes we just discussed in your own time. Can you do that for me?’
‘Yes, miss. May I write it as a story?’
‘If you wish. Yes, I think that would be an excellent idea.’ She opened her book and smiled at Francesca. ‘This is Colonel Lovelace’s letter to Lucasta on the eve of Battle. Although it has the same theme, it is romantic and I think you may enjoy it.’
She began to read, noticing that although John had opened his book, clearly disgusted at the idea of a sloppy romance, he soon began to listen to the poem and the others Sarah read to them.
‘For your essay I would like you to write about what romance is—and what you think Lucasta meant to Colonel Lovelace to make him write such a poem, Francesca.’
‘Oh, yes...it was so romantic,’ Francesca said and sighed. ‘Love is a wonderful thing, is it not? Have you ever been in love, Sarah?’
‘No, I haven’t. I loved my father, but I think being in love is very different.’
‘How does one know whether love is real?’
‘I am not sure—but I think when it happens one feels it in here.’ Sarah placed a hand over her heart. ‘If you think it is happening to you one day, you must give yourself time to be sure, Francesca—but I think you will know in your heart if it’s real.’
‘Men can let you down, though, can’t they? I heard about one of the servant girls...’ Francesca glanced at John, who appeared to have his nose firmly in his book. ‘Something happened to her and she was sent away in disgrace. I asked Mrs Brancaster why and she said a man had let poor Alice down. I wasn’t sure what she meant.’
‘Ah...’ Sarah swallowed hard. She hadn’t realised the girl was so innocent. ‘That is something we ought to discuss another day—perhaps in private.’
‘It meant she was having a baby and she wasn’t wed,’ John said, proving that his ears were still listening even if his nose was in the book. ‘Timothy the groom told me Alice wouldn’t say who the father was, but he thought—’
‘Yes, well, perhaps it is best if we do not speculate on such matters,’ Sarah said. She herself had learned from her old nurse where babies came from when she was sixteen and one of her father’s maids had also been dismissed for having committed the terrible sin of lying with one of the grooms.
‘I sort of knew that,’ Francesca admitted. ‘But not why she was in trouble... I mean, what made her?’
Sarah’s cheeks were warm. ‘There are a few books on anatomy, which might explain how it works. However, making babies happens when a man and a woman make love—and that starts with kissing. There is more, which it would not be appropriate for us to discuss at the moment—but it is the reason your mama would have told you not to let men kiss you, if she were still here.’
‘Mrs Brancaster said something of the sort, but I didn’t understand her. If people are in love, why is it wrong to kiss and make babies?’
‘I dare say it is not wrong. In fact, it is perfectly right and natural—but society and the church say that it must only happen when the man and woman are married. That is why Mrs Brancaster said poor Alice had been let down by a man. He may not have wished to marry her after...afterwards.’
‘Then he was unkind and cruel,’ Francesca said. She frowned. ‘I think I should like to read those books on anatomy, please.’
‘I will find them for you.’ Sarah got up and went to the shelves. She ran her finger along them and took out two, which after looking at the pictures, she judged to be matter-of-fact tomes, which dealt with such matters. She handed them to Francesca. ‘This explains how it happens and the workings of a woman’s—and a man’s—body but not why. If the attraction is there, feelings are aroused...but you should never give in to them before marriage. If you did so, you would lose your reputation and you would never find the kind of husband your family would wish you to have. Also, you would be shamed and many hostesses would not admit you to their drawing rooms.’
‘Yes, I see.’ Francesca put away the books along with with her poetry volumes just as the bell sounded for nuncheon. ‘I should go to my room first. Thank you, Sarah. I’ve learned more this morning than I did in all the time my last governess was here.’
‘But I saw some of the work you did with her. You can write quite well in French, Francesca, as well as being advanced in your Latin verbs.’
‘What good will such things do me in life?’ Francesca asked. ‘Someone told me gentlemen do not like clever girls. I need to know about love and having children.’
Sarah made no reply. The morning had proved more eventful than she’d intended and she was busy with her thoughts as she ran up to her room to wash her hands. Both of her pupils had lively enquiring minds and it seemed they were thirsty for knowledge. She had answered their questions honestly, but she wasn’t sure that her teaching was exactly what their uncle might wish them to learn.
* * *
Nuncheon was a pleasant interlude. No one was particularly hungry and Sarah noticed that Francesca followed her lead and ate mostly fruit, drinking a pleasant cordial and eating some gooseberries that were deliciously ripe and stewed with a rich pastry crust and custard.
After the meal John departed with his mentor to begin his fencing lessons and Francesca took Sarah on a long ramble about the estate, showing her parts of it that she had not yet ventured to alone. As they walked, Sarah explained more of how babies were made and what she knew of love, which was, she admitted, very little.
‘I have felt tempted,’ she said when Francesca pressed for more. ‘But I knew it was wrong. I have been asked to marry, but as I had no feelings for the gentleman I refused. I should not want him to kiss me—or do any of the other things of that I have been told, but have no experience.’
‘I just wanted to know what Alice had done to be sent off like that,’ Francesca said. ‘It doesn’t seem fair that she lost her job, but he—well, she wouldn’t tell anyone who it was.’
‘She was being loyal to him, but I think it a mistake. If he promised her marriage, he should have been made to wed her.’
‘But he might have lost his job, too. Mrs Brancaster said that the maids were not allowed followers.’
‘You can understand why. If they get into trouble, they have to leave and then the housekeeper has to train a new girl.’
‘Yes, I see that—but why not let her stay until she has the baby? Afterwards, she could work part of the time, couldn’t she?’
‘I dare say Mrs Brancaster is doing what she thinks right. You see, Alice had been immoral by her standards—and that is how most people see it.’
‘Do you not think it unfair?’
‘Well, yes, I do. However, one has to live by the rules, Francesca. If it had happened to a girl in my employ, I should have tried to help her—but she would still have had to leave, because of the example it sets to others.’
‘I still think it’s unfair,’ Francesca said. ‘I liked Alice and I cried when she left.’
‘Yes, I can see that it would upset you. I dare say Mrs Brancaster did not like to do it, but she might have lost her own job if she had neglected her duty. Your grandfather would not have wished for a girl like that to continue in his service. It’s the way of the world and we shall not change it.’
‘Women can’t change anything, can they? Men rule our lives. If we have a fortune, our father or guardian controls it until we marry and then our husband takes over and it belongs to him.’
‘Not always...’ Sarah frowned, because her uncle had tried to control her and failed. ‘If a woman has a fortune and is strong enough and clever enough, she may control it herself.’
Francesca was silent, as if absorbing this knowledge.
Sarah hesitated, then, ‘My father was not a poor man, Francesca, and what he had he secured to me in his will. It remains mine even if I marry.’
‘Why do you work as a governess if you have some money of your own?’
‘Because it suits me. I have done other things—but I wanted a change of scenery and...I came here on a whim, but when I met you and John I knew I wanted to stay.’
Sarah took a deep breath as she waited for the girl’s reaction. She had told her as much as she dare and felt better for it. Francesca did not know the whole truth, but Sarah no longer felt so guilty over deceiving her.
Francesca looked at her curiously. ‘You’re not like any governess I’ve had before.’ She tipped her head to one side. ‘Do you have a secret, Sarah?’
‘Yes, there is something—but I would rather you did not tell your uncle, because he might send me away if he knew.’
‘Are you in trouble?’
‘I am hiding from a man who is trying to trap me into marriage. I do not like him, but my family thinks it a good marriage. I came here to avoid him while I consider what I should do.’
Francesca’s gaze narrowed. ‘You’re not truly Hester Goodrum, are you?’
‘My name is Sarah Hardcastle,’ Sarah said. ‘Hester wanted to get married. I gave her a little money and exchanged places with her. Do you think me very dreadful to have deceived you?’
‘No, I think you are amazing.’ Francesca looked thoughtful. ‘Lord Myers would send you packing if he knew—and Grandfather would not be pleased, but I want you to stay. You tell us the truth instead of making up lies to protect us from what we want to know.’
‘I suppose I do have different ideas.’ Sarah looked at her awkwardly. ‘Do you feel compelled to tell your uncle? I know you ought, but if you do I must leave.’
‘It will be our secret,’ Francesca promised. ‘I shall not tell John, because he would be sure to let it out. My uncle may be angry when he discovers the truth.’
‘I have told myself that if I give you a proper education I am doing no harm.’
Francesca laughed. ‘I do not care who you are, Sarah. I do not think you mean us any harm—and I want you to stay. You are my friend.’
‘Yes, I should like to be that,’ Sarah said. She glanced at the little silver watch pinned to her gown. The time was getting on. ‘We’d better return or we shall be late for the games.’
‘Yes.’ Francesca’s eyes sparkled with mischief. ‘I shall enjoy keeping your secret, Sarah—it’s fun.’
Sarah smiled. When Francesca had guessed so much she’d felt compelled to tell her the truth and was glad she need not lie to at least one member of the household—but was she setting a bad example by encouraging her pupil to keep secrets from her uncle?
Perhaps she ought to confess the whole to Lord Myers and leave the decision to him—yet the house was so beautiful and she’d already become fond of her pupils.
Surely she could not harm people she wanted only to help?
They returned to the house, speaking only occasionally. Francesca was deep in thought and Sarah had her own thoughts to keep her busy. Being a governess had seemed such a simple matter, but it was no such thing. Sarah had no training to guide her and she had used
her own instincts, her own experience, to answer Francesca’s natural questions—but had she exceeded her authority? Had she perhaps put ideas into the girl’s head that her grandfather and other ladies might think wrong for a young lady of quality?
Sarah was independent because of her father’s will, which had given her complete control of her fortune and his business empire. Had he willed it so that her uncle had become her guardian she did not think she could have borne her life, for she would have been hedged about by convention and would not have dared to voice her opinions as freely as she did. Was she harming Francesca’s chances by teaching her to be as free in her thoughts?
* * *
The sound of laughter shattered her more serious thoughts. When they came upon Lord Myers, John and two of the footmen playing with an oval-shaped ball on the green, Sarah was intrigued, for she had not seen such a rough game before.
She watched as John caught the ball and then ran off with it, only to be pursued by his uncle, who tackled him and brought him down. John managed to pass the ball to one of the footmen, who took it and ran while the second footman tried to stop him. He was unable to and John gave a shout of joy as he threw himself down at a certain spot and touched the ground with the ball.
‘A try. We scored a try,’ he said. ‘Well done, Jenkins. Well done.’
‘Yes, good show.’ Lord Myers applauded. He turned and saw the ladies, frowning for a moment before turning to John. ‘I think we should play cricket now so that Miss Goodrum and Francesca can join us.’
John agreed and one of the footmen started preparing the wicket. Francesca joined Lord Myers’s side and Sarah joined Jenkins and John. Apparently, Jenkins was as good at the game as at the earlier one and he was elected to bowl at Lord Myers.
Sarah had no idea what game they had been playing when she arrived with Francesca, but knew the game of cricket and was happy to field. She was forced to run after balls that went into the shrubbery several times until she suddenly saw it coming straight at her, put out a hand and caught it.
‘Out. You’re out, Uncle Rupert,’ John crowed. ‘Now it’s Francesca’s turn and then Mason’s. We’ll soon have you out, won’t we, Sarah?’
‘Yes, certainly,’ Sarah agreed with a smile for his enthusiasm.
However, Francesca played well and scored five runs before Jenkins caught her. Mason took his turn and proved to be a clever batsman; it was some minutes before he became too adventurous and was run out for twenty-five.
A tray was brought out by one of the maids then and they all sat on blankets on the grass until John’s team went in to bat. Sarah had enjoyed her glass of barley water and was on her feet again when Lord Myers came over to her.
‘I should like to speak to you in the library before you go up, Miss Goodrum.’ His expression was grim and Sarah’s heart caught. He was angry, she was sure of it and could not for the life of her think what she had done.
Surely he had not discovered her true identity?
Chapter Five (#ufeff8085-7298-5e54-93e5-cf6e726fbba8)
Sarah followed behind the others as they all trooped into the house. The tea ceremony had been dispensed with for the day since they’d all enjoyed cool drinks on the lawn and no one was hungry. Sarah would have liked to escape to her room to tidy herself, but a look from Lord Myers sent her straight to the library. He followed her in and closed the door behind him. One look at his face made her catch her breath.
‘What is this I hear about your lesson this morning, Miss Goodrum? Can it be right that you condoned the behaviour of a maid who was dismissed for immorality—and did you really give Francesca books that described the procreation of children?’
‘We were talking about poetry and Francesca happened to say that a man could let a woman down. I hadn’t realised how innocent she was and I thought it better she should know the truth.’
‘And John—is he old enough to hear it like that?’
‘I did not explain anything in detail and he seemed to know more than Francesca. I gave her books on anatomy, but tried to explain about feelings and the consequences of being carried away by them.’
His gaze narrowed. ‘What kind of books did you deem suitable for a young woman of sixteen?’
‘They have pictures, which show the workings of both the male and female body, and explain about childbirth and...the rest of it.’
‘And you think that suitable reading for a young lady of quality?’
‘It is better she should know than go to her wedding night in ignorance, wouldn’t you say? We talked further on our walk and I was careful to impress on her the consequences of having...intimate relations before one is married.’
‘Good grief!’ Lord Myers seemed stunned for a moment. He ran his fingers through his thick dark hair, his grey eyes wintry. ‘I was told you were an unusual governess and you certainly are, Miss Goodrum.’
‘Would you prefer I’d lied? Would you have Francesca ignorant of the facts of life? She will know now precisely why she ought not to give in to the persuasion of rakish men—and what may happen if she does. She will also be more prepared for her wedding night.’
‘You take my breath away.’
Sarah swallowed hard, her hands turned inwards, the palms sweating. ‘Forgive me. I did what I thought was right. I know some ladies might think I was too direct...’
‘A great many men would feel the same. Such revelations would undoubtedly have led to instant dismissal in most households.’
‘I did not intend it to be part of the lesson, it just happened. I realise that convention decrees that these things remain hidden from a young woman—but I think it unfair that girls should marry without the faintest idea of what to expect. In some cases the shock may damage their marriage. Besides, most girls hear it from a servant rather than their mother. John had some garbled version from a stable lad and I thought it best to be open.’
‘Yes, I see that...’ Lord Myers was staring at her. The heat in his eyes seemed to burn her skin. ‘Well, it is over now and perhaps no harm has been done. I would ask you not to indoctrinate your charges with your radical ideas too often, Miss Goodrum.’
‘No, of course not—though I feel Francesca’s mother would have told her the facts of life by now had she lived.’
‘In a rather different way and not in front of her brother, I imagine.’
‘Yes, perhaps that is true. John did not seem surprised or particularly interested. I imagine he’s heard more in the stables than he heard from me.’
‘And that is to be regretted,’ Lord Myers said. ‘The language of the grooms is something most boys learn, but it must be tempered with proper explanation so that he understands what it means to be a gentleman. He must learn where the dividing line comes between taking one’s pleasure and guarding one’s honour and that of a lady.’
‘Yes, of course. It is a good thing that you came here, sir. He very much enjoyed himself this afternoon.’
‘I have decided that in future I shall take over John’s lessons. I do not disagree that Francesca should be prepared for life—and she will be aware of the consequences, as you say—but John needs a firm hand.’
‘I am sorry you feel I have let him down, my lord.’ Sarah’s cheeks were stinging for she felt herself at fault, though in her opinion she’d done nothing to merit such censure.
‘No harm has been done that a few lessons with me cannot put right. We shall continue to have games or other pastimes that we share, Miss Goodrum, but I no longer want John to join you in the mornings.’
‘As you wish, sir.’ Sarah stood stiffly, her hands in front of her. She felt his censure unfair and yet understood his point of view. John did need male guidance and would do better not to gain his knowledge of the world via the stables. ‘May I go now? I should like to write some letters before I change for the evening.’
‘Yes, you may go,’ he said, then, as she walked to the door, ‘Wait a moment, Sarah—I did not wish to censure you. I felt it my duty after what John told me.’
Sarah turned to look back at him. There was no hint of tears in her eyes, though she could feel them inside. ‘You were doing your duty, sir. If I failed in mine, I am sorry.’
She went out and closed the door before he could answer, hearing him curse as she did so. She was feeling subdued as she walked up to her room. Her first day had seemed to go well, but clearly she had made mistakes and aroused Lord Myers’s disapproval—and that hurt. It hurt more than she would have imagined.
What he would think if he knew of her deception she dared not think. No doubt he would believe his opinion of her as some kind of adventuress thoroughly vindicated.
* * *
At dinner that evening Sarah wore her same gown. She had no other evening gown suitable and would not have dared to venture downstairs in it if she had. She had already aroused doubts and suspicions in Lord
Myers’s mind. Next he would be thinking her a courtesan or some such thing. She did her best to seem natural and held her head high, answering any questions that came her way, but keeping her opinions to herself. Even when Lord Myers mentioned the Regent and Francesca asked if it was true that he had been married to Maria Fitzherbert, she refrained from joining the conversation until directly addressed.
‘Well, I think it was very unfair of him if he did,’ Francesca said when Lord Myers merely shrugged and said he didn’t know. ‘What do you think, Sarah?’
‘In any other case I would say it was wrong and that she had a right to be upheld as his wife—but because of the law about royal marriages it may not have been a true one. I do not know the truth of the matter.’
‘If he did not truly marry her, he tricked her into being his mistress.’
‘Francesca.’ Lord Myers glared at Sarah. ‘This is not the right subject for the dinner table. Please refrain from discussing this in mixed company. You may speak to Miss Goodrum in private on the matter if you wish.’
Francesca blushed and Sarah threw Lord Myers an angry glance. He was taking a moral stance that was hardly necessary. Such things were often discussed openly in society, though rarely in mixed company and not before children or innocent girls. He was perhaps thinking of John, for he had decided to mentor him on matters of morality. Now Sarah saw her own fault in being too easy with Francesca and looked down at her plate.
As Francesca would have protested, she reached out to touch her hand. ‘Later, my dear. Lord Myers is right on this occasion.’
He threw a speaking glance at her across the table. Francesca saw it and subsided into silence. She did not speak again until John was sent to bed and they were alone in the drawing room, waiting for Lord Myers to join them.
‘Are you in trouble with Uncle Rupert because of what you told me about love this morning?’
‘Perhaps I should have been more wary—waited to explain until we were alone. John is young and impressionable after all.’
‘Nonsense! He knows far more than I do. We talked about everything when we were alone, but there were things he wouldn’t say. He said it wasn’t fit for a girl’s ears.’
‘Lord Myers is afraid he may have heard things in the stable that may give him the wrong idea about such things. We are to have our lessons alone in future.’
‘That’s so unfair of him. It wasn’t your fault. You are the only person who has ever treated me as a woman—the only one to tell either of us the truth.’
‘A conventional governess would not have done so. She might have given you some information in private—and perhaps it is what I should have done. Well, it is not my decision to bar John from our lessons, but I am sorry if it upsets you. I believe in speaking my mind—but it is not always wise to do so in company, especially at the dinner table.’
‘No, I see that—but it was just us, family...’ Francesca stared at her. ‘Are you crying?’
‘No, of course not.’ Sarah blinked away the wetness that had unaccountably come to her eyes. ‘Do you truly think of me as your family?’
‘You’re the sister I never had.’ Francesca smiled at her. ‘She would have told me the things I needed to know—especially when she was married. It’s silly the way they hide things from unmarried girls, isn’t it? How can we make a sensible choice for a husband if we don’t understand what it means to be married?’
‘Oh, my dear,’ Sarah said and was suddenly amused. ‘You are supposed to enjoy your Season and have fun—and you would normally ask your mama what she felt about the gentleman you liked. She would give you her advice.’
‘Will you be my chaperon when we go to London? Please, Sarah. I would rather it was you than someone I didn’t know.’
‘You hardly know me—though I feel as if I’ve known you always. I doubt if I would be thought suitable. You need someone of more consequence. Besides, I shall have to leave you before then.’
‘You won’t let Uncle Rupert drive you away?’
‘You mustn’t take against him because he corrected you at table, Francesca.’
‘I shall hate him if he sends you away. I’m going to tell Grandfather that I want you as my chaperon when he comes down at Christmas.’
‘We’ll think about that later,’ Sarah said, her throat tight with emotion. Francesca was becoming so special to her and the idea of being her chaperon appealed, but of course it was not possible. Sarah could not enter society as Miss Goodrum and, as Miss Hardcastle, she would not be acceptable to the girl’s guardians. ‘We have lots of time before then. I must teach you so many things—and the first is to think before you speak. Whatever we may discuss in private, and whatever your opinion of a situation or fact, it is sometimes better not to repeat it to others, especially in company.’
‘Oh, you do not need to tell me. I was so mortified I could have died.’ Francesca turned to her and hugged her. ‘You mustn’t be hurt, Sarah. If Rupert is mean to you, I’ll tell John to put something horrid in his bed.’
Sarah laughed. ‘Now that you must never do, dearest. Besides, it might result in the cane for John and you would not want that. Lord Myers takes his duty seriously and I think you must both respect his wishes.’
‘I was looking at those books you gave me. Is that what really happens? It looks awful. I can’t see why anyone would want to do anything like that...’
‘I think that feelings come into it,’ Sarah said with a smile, but then the door opened and she shook her head. ‘You might wish to go up now, dearest, and I shall follow.’
Francesca nodded. She approached Lord Myers and bobbed a curtsy. ‘Goodnight, sir. I am sorry if I offended you earlier.’
‘Good grief, child. I was not offended, but your reputation might suffer in company. I wanted you to be aware.’
‘Yes, Uncle Rupert. Sarah has explained that I may ask her anything in private, but not speak so openly in front of others.’
‘Good. Run along now. I wish to speak to Miss Goodrum.’
Francesca threw a speaking look at Sarah and went out.
‘Miss Goodrum—’ Lord Myers stood looking at her uncertainly. ‘Will you honour me with a game of chess this evening? You do play chess, I hope?’
‘Yes, my lord. My father taught me. I played often with him.’
‘I thought that might be the case. Will you oblige me?’
‘If you wish.’
‘I do wish. I also want to apologise for my display of bad manners earlier. I did not intend to squash the child—and I thank you for putting things right.’
‘It was a misunderstanding all round, my lord. I do not think it will happen again.’
‘I suppose I cannot prevail on you to call me Rupert in private?’
Sarah hesitated, then, ‘I hardly think it wise, sir. If I could add uncle I would do so, as the others do, but I cannot—and so I feel that it would not be right.’
‘Make it sir, then. I cannot stand to be my lorded all the time. I would even prefer Captain Myers, as I was known in my army days.’
‘Yes, sir. You were in the army?’ Sarah asked politely, as she set out the beautiful ivory-and-ebony chessboard with delicate carved figures. ‘I thought perhaps you might have been. My father always said it was easy to tell a military man by his bearing.’
‘Indeed? I think I should have liked to know your father, Sarah.’
‘Yes, you might. I think he might have liked you—he was very direct and to the point and honest.’
‘Like you, I imagine?’
‘I resemble my father in some ways. I cannot say all.’
Sarah was acutely aware of her lies. She was beginning to hate them and wished that she dare tell him the truth—explain why it had seemed such a good idea and why she wanted to stay here as Francesca’s governess. Yet he would not understand. He would revile her for lying and worst of all he would dismiss her and install a new governess in her place.
Even though she had made mistakes on her first day, Sarah felt that she was helping Francesca. She had gained the girl’s confidence and affection, too. It would hurt her if Sarah left—and she might become sullen, taking against Lord Myers and the new governess.
Sarah was doing no harm. She would be careful in future to temper every opinion she gave with the counter-argument and explain why Francesca must conform to what society expected even though she might disagree privately, but she could not desert her.
She dismissed her qualms and brought her mind to the game. Lord Myers showed his mettle by his first few moves, but she was with him.
* * *
Sarah had learned from a chess master and she was well able to keep up her end. By the end of an hour she had beaten him twice and been beaten herself once when an early move on his part had sealed her fate almost from the beginning.
At the end of the third game, she stood up.
‘I believe I should leave you now, sir. Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight, Sarah,’ he replied. He was on his feet, standing so close to her that she could scarcely breathe. Her heart was beating fast and she felt the heat start low in her abdomen and sweep through her. She was being drawn to him like a moth to a flame. In another moment she would be in his arms. He would kiss her and then...
She stepped back, breaking the fine thread that had bound them.
‘I should go.’
‘Perhaps you will let me try for revenge another evening.’
‘Yes, of course, if you wish.’
With that she walked to the door and went out. He made no move to stop her or call her back, though she thought she heard a muffled groan as she closed the door behind her.
* * *
Alone in her room, Sarah closed the door, locked it and then stood with her back against it. She felt weak and knew that she had escaped by a hairsbreadth from a fate that was described as worse than death—another few seconds and he would have seduced her. She would have allowed it. She had wanted it, longed for his kiss—and what came after.
It was those feelings she’d warned Francesca of—feelings that would lead to her downfall. Even as Miss Sarah Hardcastle she would not have expected a marriage proposal from Lord Myers, unless he needed a fortune, of course. Somehow she did not see him as lacking wealth or the determination to make it if he had none. He was not the kind of man to need a Cit’s daughter as a wife.
Sarah was well aware that as the daughter of a mill owner she would not be thought suitable to marry into the best families—unless of course they happened to be desperate.
Sarah was trembling as she undressed and dived beneath the sheets. The awful thing was that she suspected she would enjoy being seduced by Lord Myers—and that would be stupid.
‘Foolish, foolish, foolish!’
Yet the temptation to remain, to let him kiss her and do what he would on the rug before the fire had been strong. Why did he have this effect on her, something that no other man had before now?
She pounded her pillow. Before this, Sarah had resisted every advance, deflected every unwanted offer with ease—but something told her that if she stayed here she was in danger of succumbing to her wretched feelings. Even worse than being seduced was the fear that she might learn to care for him—and that must lead to terrible unhappiness.
‘No, I shall not. I refuse to care about him,’ she whispered and closed her eyes on the tears as they insisted on falling. ‘I am not so silly as to care for a man who merely wants to seduce me.’
In future she would have to be constantly on her guard. Friendly but cool, even aloof.
She would be the perfect governess. In private, she would be open and friendly with Francesca, but whenever Lord Myers was around she would keep her distance.
* * *
God damn it! Rupert groaned as the door shut behind her, leaving him with the scent of her perfume in his nostrils and the want of her surging through his blood. What was it about Miss Hester Goodrum that had sent his senses haywire? He could hardly remember feeling such urgent lust before in his life. For a moment it had taken every last ounce of his strength to keep from dragging her into his arms, kissing her to within an inch of her life and carrying her to his bed.
His thoughts were outrageous and he knew it. If she was the governess she claimed to be, he would be doing her an extreme disservice and she did not deserve such treatment from him. Yet what if she were indeed an adventuress? There were things that did not sit well with her claim to be merely a governess—and why had she told Francesca to call her Sarah? Surely if her name was Hester a pet name would be Hetty or some such diminutive?
If she had been another man’s mistress, then she was fair game and he would be justified in hunting her down until she agreed to be his. It was odd, but he did not wish that to be the case. Indeed, he feared that her appeal would be tarnished if he discovered that she was a schemer and a liar.
Why would she come here if she were not what she professed to be? The question bothered him, chasing round in his mind like a puppy after its tail. He could see no advantage to it—unless she hoped to seduce her employer, but she could have hardly hoped for that since the marquess was nearly three times her age and seldom visited his country house.
Was she hiding from someone or something? Had she been accused of theft or worse? Lurid thoughts chased through his mind—had she murdered her protector, stolen her employer’s heirlooms or been snubbed by society?
A smile touched his mouth for he did not see Sarah as a fugitive from the law. Yet he would swear her name was not Hester Goodrum, nor had she been a governess until recently. So where was the real Hester and why had they changed places?
Yes, of course, it was what must have happened! Rupert felt certain of it, though he could see no reason for the masquerade. Sarah did not strike him as a
society miss who would do something like this for a jest or a wager. No, she had a perfectly good reason for what she was doing.
If that turned out to be the case, she was a consummate liar and Rupert hated liars. His mouth thinned. In his experience women lied without thought for the harm they caused or the pain they inflicted.
He determined that he would discover the truth and unmask her and then—then he would show her no mercy. He would offer her an ultimatum: become his mistress or risk exposure and the scorn it would bring.
For a moment in his anger he dwelled on the prospect with pleasure, but then the picture faded and his expression hardened. He had never forced a woman into his bed and it would bring only a hollow victory. No, he would put the woman out of his head and, if he discovered she had indeed been lying to them, he would dismiss her.
Sarah Goodrum, or whatever her name was, would discover that she had made a mistake when she decided to try to fool him. By the time he’d finished with her she would wish she’d never been born.
* * *
It had rained during the night, which meant the grass would be wet if she chose to walk first thing. Sarah decided to forgo her exercise. Perhaps the afternoon would be warm and dry. In the meantime she would take an early breakfast and then spend some time in the library, preparing lessons for that day. She would try to be more conventional, and perhaps in the afternoon, if it were still damp, they could play the pianoforte. Francesca had told her she played, but needed help to achieve a higher standard. Since it was one of Sarah’s chief pleasures and something she did well, she had hopes of achieving at least this much for her pupil.
* * *
She was the first in the breakfast room and had eaten when the door opened to admit Lord Myers. He looked at her coldly, his manner markedly reserved as he perused the chafing-dishes and then brought his plate to sit opposite her.
‘Good morning, Miss Goodrum. I trust you slept well?’
‘Yes, sir. I took my breakfast early since it was still wet out.’ She pushed back her chair and stood, hesitating a moment. Why had he changed so much since the previous evening? He seemed a man of many moods.
‘There is no need to leave on my account.’ He frowned at her.
‘I had finished, sir. If you will excuse me?’
‘Yes, of course. You should prepare your lessons for the morning—a little more carefully today, if you please.’
‘Yes, my lord.’
Tears stung behind her eyes, but she gave no sign as she lifted her head and swept from the room like a queen.
How dare he speak to her that way? For a moment anger rolled over the hurt, but then she remembered that he was here in place of her employer and had every right to address her as he chose. He could send her away if he wished.
Sarah bit her lower lip. She had no idea why he was angry with her. The previous evening she had sensed that he was on the verge of making love to her—so why had he changed so suddenly?
Obviously, he was a law unto himself. He was an aristocrat and had no interest in the feelings of a lowly governess—any more than he would in the daughter of a Cit, even a wealthy mill owner’s daughter.
Sarah would be a fool to allow herself to care for a man like that—even if one of his sensual looks could make her feel weak at the knees and keep her sleepless in her bed.
She had made up her mind to keep her distance during a restless night and his manner this morning had made that easier. If they both kept their distance, except when in the children’s presence, everything would be fine. She would conquer this temporary weakness and her heart would remain untouched.
Sarah would spend a few months in retreat from her own life and do what she could for Francesca—John, too, if he needed her, though he seemed to have taken to his mentor and hung on Lord Myers’s every word. She would stay for as long as she could, but if life became unbearable she would leave.
Chapter Six (#ufeff8085-7298-5e54-93e5-cf6e726fbba8)
The rain had lasted for almost a week, making it impossible to hold the picnic John had wanted so badly. However, he spent most of his time either fencing, studying or riding with Lord Myers and seemed well pleased with the change. Francesca had told Sarah that he was learning to shoot.
‘I hardly see him now,’ she complained as they closed the pianoforte after an hour spent most enjoyably. ‘I am so glad you are my friend, Sarah. I do not know what I should do if you were not here.’
‘I dare say John will seek your company when he is ready. You must understand that this is the first time he has received the attention of a man like Lord Myers. He must feel pleased, excited and even flattered by it. After being neglected by his tutors he is suddenly of importance.’
‘How understanding you are,’ Francesca said and got up, wandering over to the window. ‘Did you know that Uncle Rupert has decided to employ a dancing master for me? He is French and should be here any day now.’
‘Oh...’ Sarah bit her lower lip. Lord Myers had neglected to tell her, but then, she’d hardly seen him all week. At dinner he spoke to Francesca and John, but, other than asking if she were well and had what she needed, he had not directed a whole sentence at her for seven days. ‘I had thought he might teach you himself.’
‘He said he had considered it, but felt himself unable to convey the finer points. I think he finds that John takes up most of his time—and he has friends. You know he has dined out twice this week and he spent most of yesterday afternoon with them.’
‘Yes, I dare say he wishes for some company of his own age, men he can converse with,’ Sarah agreed. ‘John was out with the groom all afternoon. I hear he is doing very well with his new pony.’
‘Yes. He finds Blackie much more of a challenge than dear old Dobbie was, which was why Uncle Rupert purchased the pony for him.’
‘Yes, that was thoughtful.’
Sarah could not fault Lord Myers for the way in which he was directing the youth’s studies, giving him enough sports and activities to make the written work acceptable. She had paused outside the marquess’s study on one occasion and heard Lord Myers reading aloud in Latin. Every now and then he’d stopped to ask John what he understood and to explain the story. His blend of authority and charm had carried John along and the boy seemed completely under his spell.
Francesca was respectful of the man she addressed as Uncle Rupert, even though he wasn’t actually her uncle, but some sort of cousin.
‘Rupert thought it better if I called him uncle. He says it is a matter of keeping up a respectable household that will give no one a chance to gossip about us. I told him that as long as I had you as a chaperon no one could possibly imagine there was anything improper in our domestic arrangements.’
Sarah resisted the temptation to ask what he’d replied. Since that night when they had played chess alone he had been reserved, even cold towards her, and she had followed his lead. It was better this way than allowing herself to imagine there might be something warm and exciting between them. If she had thought so a week ago, she did not think it now. She knew that it was the only way she could remain as Francesca’s governess, but there was an ache in her heart that she could not quite banish.
Sarah stood up and joined her pupil by the window. The afternoon was pleasantly warm with just a slight breeze.
‘I have some letters I should like to go first thing in the morning. I think I shall walk down to the Royal Oak and leave them. There might be something for me.’
‘One of the footmen will take the letters in the morning and they bring back anything that has come for us.’
‘Yes, I know, but I want these to go off—besides, I should have to rely on Lord Myers to frank them for me and I would prefer to pay some sixpences to send them myself. I was wondering if you would like to walk with me?’
‘I think I would rather stay here and practise my music, if you do not mind?’ Francesca looked at her. ‘You will be back in time for tea. Perhaps Uncle Rupert and John will join us today.’
‘Yes, perhaps. I must go up and put on my bonnet. I shall not linger, but walk straight there and back.’
Sarah left her pupil sitting at the pianoforte and the sound of music followed her up the stairs. Francesca was still playing when she returned and left the house by a side door. She had the piece almost right, but there was one passage that she rushed every time. Sarah would show her how it should be played another day.
It was the first time she’d gone for a walk alone since it had rained. The air was fresh with the scents of early summer and the hedgerows were bright with flowers, wild roses twining amongst them and bringing the countryside alive with colour.
* * *
She had reached the village without incident and entered the inn, having noticed a horse with a white mark on its rump. She thought it might have belonged to Lord Myers, but wasn’t sure. If he were here, she hoped they would not meet. It would be embarrassing if he thought she’d sought him out. As far as she’d known, he’d ridden over to a neighbour’s house on some business.
She was met by the host’s wife, who took her letters and asked her for four sixpences, to cover the cost of sending them post.
‘It would be less if they waited for the mail coach, miss, but if you want them sent urgently it must be two shillings.’
‘That is perfectly all right,’ Sarah said and handed over her two shillings. ‘Do you have any letters for Miss Hardcastle care of Miss Hester Goodrum?’
‘Yes, as a matter of fact one arrived by post this afternoon.’ The innkeeper’s wife looked at her curiously. ‘You’re Miss Goodrum, governess to the children up at Cavendish Park, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, I am.’ Sarah saw the curiosity in her eyes. ‘Miss Hardcastle is...well, I am accepting letters for her.’
‘Oh, well, I suppose it’s all right, as it says “care of”,’ the woman said a little doubtfully. ‘I normally like to be sure a letter is given to the right person.’
‘I assure you I am the right person to receive this letter—and any others that are similarly addressed.’
‘Is something wrong, Miss Goodrum?’
Sarah jumped and glanced round as Lord Myers spoke. ‘No. I am just collecting some letters. Everything is as it should be.’ She took the letter from the woman’s reluctant hand as she seemed paralysed by Lord Myers’s arrival and was staring at him, seemingly mesmerised.
Sarah slipped the letter, which was quite a thick packet, into her reticule, but she feared that Lord Myers might have caught sight of the wording of the address before she could do so.
‘Is Francesca not with you?’ he asked, walking to the inn door and opening it for her. He walked out into the yard, standing for a moment in the sunshine as she hesitated.
‘Francesca wished to practise the music she is learning. I had some letters I wished to post.’
‘Do you write many letters, Miss Goodrum?’
‘Yes, several.’
‘To your family? Or are you seeking another post?’
‘I am not seeking another post at the moment. I have no reason to leave—have I?’
‘Only you can know that, Miss Goodrum.’
Sarah hesitated, then, ‘I understand you have engaged a dancing master for Francesca?’
‘Actually, her grandfather did so himself. I wrote and said I thought it might be a good thing and he sent word that he had seen to it. I heard this morning and told Francesca. I believe he is French—Monsieur Andre Dupree, I think he is called.’
‘Ah, I see. I had thought you might teach her yourself?’
‘I decided it might be wiser to employ a dancing master—for various reasons. Besides, most of my time is taken up with tutoring John—and there is estate business.’
‘You have been busy, I know.’
‘Yes.’ His gaze narrowed. ‘I should be returning to the house. My business here is done—and John should have had his riding lessons for the day.’
‘Yes.’ She hesitated, then, ‘Francesca wondered if you would both join us for tea today. I think she misses her brother.’
‘Yes, things have not quite gone to plan. We must have our picnic before the fine weather disappears again. Have you written the invitations?’
‘They need only the day and date. I was waiting for your approval.’
‘Then make them for this Friday. We must hope that the weather stays fine. I am told some of the strawberries will be ready for picking and that might amuse both the children and our guests.’
‘It will not amuse Francesca to be called a child. She will soon be seventeen.’
‘Not for a few months. I shall try to remember.’ He inclined his head to her. ‘I shall not keep you, Miss Goodrum—if that is your name...’
With that he walked away, leaving Sarah to stare after him in dismay. It was the first time he’d talked to her for a week, but she could not deceive herself; his manner was decidedly cool towards her. She was not sure if he was angry or whether he simply did not trust her.
Shrugging off her painful thoughts, she walked on towards the house. She would read her letter later, alone in her room. Sarah had recognised the hand and knew it came from the agent who oversaw her mills. Since he had written extensively there might be a problem.
Sarah sighed. For the past few years she’d dealt with the problems as they arose, but it had been pleasant not to have to think of them for the past week. It might be nice to be married and leave business to her husband, but it would have to be the right man for the sake of all those who relied on her for their living. Sir Roger would squander her money and care nothing for her people. Until she found someone she could trust and like enough to marry, she would have to carry on—but her agents must manage without her for a while. She would not leave Francesca in the lurch unless she was forced.
* * *
What was she up to now? Rupert was thoughtful as he put his horse to a canter. His business that afternoon had concerned the governess and he wondered why he had not mentioned it to her. Something in her manner had been guilty and it had made him hold back the news he thought might be interesting for her. She had definitely hidden that letter and so quickly that he hardly caught sight of the lettering, but he was sure it had been addressed to someone care of Miss Goodrum.
He’d sensed a mystery from the start and now he was certain that she was hiding something. Could she be collecting letters for Francesca? Had the young girl formed an attachment before he arrived, one she now wished to hide from him? Rupert frowned. Francesca was surely too young to have a lover—would her governess be complicit in such a deceit?
Or was it simply that Miss Goodrum was not what she claimed to be, as he’d suspected almost from the start? Why had she lied about her identity?
The mystery deepened and he decided he had been right to keep his distance these past few days. To allow himself to like the governess rather more than was sensible would be to invite all manner of problems.
Whatever she was hiding was bound to be unsavoury. He felt disappointed to discover that she was almost certainly the adventuress he’d thought her at the start. She might seem innocent, delightful and charming, but she was undoubtedly playing a part for his sake—to deceive him, or to ensnare him?
* * *
The thoughts had gone round and round in his head as he had ridden rode home. Dismounting, he entered the house and immediately encountered John, who was full of his afternoon’s outing. The youth’s enthusiasm put the mystery of the letter from Rupert’s thoughts. He told John to wash his hands and meet him in the drawing room for tea, taking the stairs two at a time in his haste not to be late.
Rupert must simply continue to keep the governess in her proper place for all their sakes. If she were truly innocent, his need to seduce her could only bring her to ruin—and if she were a courtesan it would lead to distress for Francesca.
Yet he lay restless in his bed each night, thinking of her in her chaste bed and burning with need that drove him mad. He wanted her as he’d wanted no other—and he could not put her out of his head.
Oh, damn the woman! He would not allow her beneath his skin. No woman had been allowed to ruffle his feelings in this way for years and he would not give this enchanting minx the satisfaction of knowing how she had affected him the night they’d played chess together.
* * *
‘Oh, good,’ Francesca exclaimed as she saw her brother and Rupert waiting for her in the drawing room. ‘I’m so pleased you are to join us for tea. It isn’t the same when you don’t.’
‘Blackie jumped the fence at Three Mile Bottom.’ John’s enthusiasm carried him away. ‘You should come out with me one afternoon.’
‘Yes, I should like that—but I’d like Sarah to come as well. I’m not sure we have a suitable horse for her.’
‘As a matter of fact—’ Rupert broke off as Sarah entered. She was wearing a plain, dark-grey gown, very suitable for a governess, but somehow managed to make it look as if a lady of quality was wearing it. ‘I bought one this afternoon. So you will all be able to ride together.’
‘Did you hear that, Sarah?’ Francesca turned to her with a smile of delight. ‘Uncle Rupert bought a horse you could ride. You will ride with us, won’t you?’
‘Oh... Yes, of course.’ Sarah smiled. ‘Sorry, my mind was elsewhere. Did you say the horse was bought for me to ride?’ She looked at Rupert in surprise. ‘That was extremely thoughtful of you, sir.’
‘Francesca wanted you to be able to ride with her. She said you were accustomed to riding when at your home—is that true?’
‘Yes, I ride whenever I have the time.’ Sarah’s cheeks were warm as she took her seat. ‘Shall you ring for tea, Francesca?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Francesca did so and looked at her enquiringly. ‘Is something wrong, Sarah? You look worried.’
‘I had a letter that was a little worrying, a family matter,’ Sarah said. ‘Forgive me if my mind wanders. It was something of a shock to me.’
‘No one is ill, I hope?’ Rupert asked, his gaze narrowed.
‘Not exactly. There is a family problem, however. I hope to avoid it, but I may have to leave for a while should things develop.’
‘Oh, no, I don’t want you to go,’ Francesca said instantly. ‘Please don’t—unless you have to, of course.’
‘I have no intention of it,’ Sarah replied and smiled at her. ‘I think the problem may be dealt with by a series of letters—but should it not, then I might be away for a week or two.’
‘Is there anything I may do to help?’ Rupert asked. ‘Any service I could perform for you?’
Sarah’s eyes moved to his face and for a moment she seemed to hesitate, but then, as the door opened to admit the maids with the tea trays, she shook her head. He waited until after the maids had retreated and then persisted.
‘We could speak later in private, if you wish?’
‘You are...kind,’ Sarah said and looked hesitant. ‘I believe I can deal with the matter myself for the moment.’
Rupert accepted a cup from Francesca’s hand and helped himself to rich fruitcake, which was always his favourite. He could see that the governess was more disturbed than she would say and his sense of frustration increased.
Was she in trouble or was her friend—the friend for whom she had received that letter? It had looked more like a packet and he was curious as to what was in it. He would be most interested in reading the contents of Sarah’s package.
‘Why don’t you all go riding in the morning?’ he suggested. ‘I think we might forget lessons for once. Miss Goodrum should get to know her horse and yours will suffer if you do not exercise the poor beast more, Francesca.’
‘Yes, let’s all go riding in the morning,’ John said, excited at the prospect. ‘You will come too, Uncle Rupert?’
‘Unfortunately, I have some things to attend to,’ he replied. ‘I may ride out and join you later, once it is finished.’
‘It would be pleasant to ride again,’ Sarah said and some of the anxiety seemed to leave her eyes. ‘Although I do not have a habit with me, unfortunately.’
‘I think there may be something in Mama’s trunks,’ Francesca replied and smiled at her. ‘You are not dissimilar in height and build and may make a few adjustments if they are needed.’
‘If we could look for it before dinner, I could make the alterations this evening,’ Sarah agreed. ‘Riding is such good exercise and I have felt its lack of late.’
Rupert felt pleased that he’d been able to help her in some small way, even though there was guilt at the back of his mind. With all the children out of the way he would have the opportunity to enter the governess’s room and make a brief search for that letter.
A part of his mind was horrified at the idea and yet the other was telling him that as her employer’s representative he had every right to discover what she was hiding.
* * *
‘It was so kind of you to purchase the horse for my use,’ Sarah said when she came down the next morning. She was wearing a borrowed habit, which had belonged to Francesca’s mother. Sarah had taken down the hem a little, but it was otherwise a reasonable fit. Although not fashionable or exactly Sarah’s style, it looked well enough. ‘It is a pity you cannot come with us. I think John was anxious to show you how much he has learned.’
Rupert looked into her clear eyes and felt his guilt deepen. It would be pleasant to ride with them and he almost gave in to temptation, but his suspicions needed to be answered.
‘Yes, well, perhaps my business need not take long. Which way do you intend to ride?’
‘Francesca said we might ride past the water meadows and come back through the village.’
‘Very well, perhaps I shall join you later on your ride.’
‘I do hope so,’ she said, smiled again and went to join the others. He heard the sound of voices and laughter outside as the grooms helped them to mount and the party set out.
Walking upstairs, Rupert fought down his rising sense of guilt. He paused outside the governess’s room, knocked and then entered. Looking round, he saw that it was very neat, the bed made and nothing out of place. Obviously, she was in the habit of keeping things tidy and did not make extra work for the maids.
He could see no sign of any papers. The desk that had been provided for her use was empty of letters or personal items, displaying only the inkwell and pen trays, also a pad for leaning one’s paper on. His heart thudding and a sick feeling in his stomach, Rupert walked to the desk. He had never done such a despicable thing in his life. Feeling like the worst sort of rogue, he picked up the pad and saw that the soft surface had indentations, but though he studied them for a moment he could not pick out any words. He hesitated, then opened the long top drawer. It was empty. Each of the first two drawers on the side was similarly unused, but in the third he found a small wooden box, which was obviously used to store papers and letters. It was locked.
Rupert glanced round the room. Where would the key be hidden—or did she have it with her? He considered making a search and then the enormity of what he was doing swept over him.
This was despicable! Miss Goodrum was entitled to her privacy and he was not behaving as a gentleman ought. If he wanted her confidence, he must earn it. Replacing the box, he closed the desk drawer and left the room. As he reached the end of the hall, he saw a maid approaching. She looked at him curiously, no doubt wondering what he was doing so far from his own rooms.
He would change into his riding breeches, walk down to the stables and go in search of his pupils and their governess.
* * *
Sarah had been pleasantly surprised in the mare she was given. It was a spirited creature and far superior to what she had expected might be offered to a mere governess. Lord Myers was clearly a good judge of horses and she was going to enjoy the experience.
She had spent some hours thinking before she was able to sleep the previous evening. Her agent had sent her a package containing several business matters, most of which she had managed to settle easily in a few words. The letter was lying unfinished in her writing box, because she had not been able to decide about what to do on the other matter.
Sam had told her that he had received an offer to purchase all her mills.
It comes from a solicitor, Miss Harding. He has not revealed the buyer’s name, but says that his client is well able to purchase all the mills and the price he is offering is far better than anything you’ve been offered before. My only hesitation in urging you to sell would be to do with his keeping his identity secret. There are certain men—rivals of your father—who might decide to either shut down the mills and sell off the property to reduce competition for their own trade or reduce wages and increase working hours. Your father was widely believed too generous and some of the mill owners thought that he had made it impossible for them to make the profits they wished, because key workers demanded the same rates as your father paid. However, I feel that while you have managed thus far you may find it hard to maintain the level of efficiency needed if you marry and have a family, as your father would have wished. Your husband might not have the same feeling for the workers as both you and your father have shown.
I await your decision as always,
Samuel Barnes
Sarah knew that the price offered was a good one. Perhaps not the full worth of the mills, but near enough to make it a viable proposition. It would be the easy way out for her, particularly since she had been wishing to make a change for a while. Had she been content with her life, she would not have felt the need to change places with Hester Goodrum.
However, coming here had made her see how pleasant a similar life might be. She would not wish to simply hand over everything to someone else. Even if she married, she would wish to be informed of all that was happening and to be consulted about any changes in the way things were run. It had come to her of late that in the right circumstances she could happily amuse herself with a family and friends, leaving business to her husband for the main part. If she were involved in the decision-making and consulted before the workers were put on short time—or, indeed, more were taken on, if the mill prospered—she did not need to be involved in the day-to-day running of the place.
Her uncle had always insisted she should take a husband and leave her business to him, but Sarah had felt compelled to keep her hands on the reins. She no longer felt as if she wished to spend all her life coping with the problems of running her father’s business empire and would be happy to hand much of it to another.
Yet she could not simply abandon her people and her principles to someone who might abuse them. Sarah was well aware that despite rumblings in Parliament, where the plight of mill workers and others in similar jobs had been debated, nothing of any consequence had been done to force the owners to treat their people decently. Women and even children worked in terrible conditions for long hours; they were given only a few minutes’ break to relieve themselves or drink some water and their mealtimes were restricted to a quarter of an hour in many cases. If they complained they were sent home and would be blacked by the other employers so that they found it impossible to get another job. The men fared little better and any that dared to speak out against the conditions might have to travel miles to find work to keep their families from starving. Sarah had recently taken in a family who had been thrown out of their home and refused work. Sam had told her that once Mr Arkwright discovered what she’d done, he would be very angry.
‘Matt Arkwright is a hard man, Miss Hardcastle. He fell out with your father over the wages he paid and they almost came to blows. He’ll not take kindly to you giving succour to a man he’s dismissed.’
‘If he does not like it, he must learn to live with it.’ Sarah had shrugged off her agent’s warning, but the next day she’d received a visit from Mr Arkwright. He had spent an hour haranguing her and left after issuing threats.
‘You’re a haughty piece, Miss Hardcastle, but you’ll come unstuck. You think your wealth entitles you to act like a lady and carry on with your head in the clouds, but one of these days you’ll go too far.’
‘I fail to see what business it is of yours whom I choose to employ, sir.’
‘We mine owners stick together. If you give these troublemakers an inch, they’ll take a yard. Before you know it, we’ll have rioting and people will get hurt. You’ve been warned, Miss Hardcastle. Think on it!’
Sarah had put the unpleasant scene from her mind. She did not think the man she’d employed was a troublemaker and had no intention of letting a rival owner tell her how to run her affairs. However, she now wondered if it was Matt Arkwright who had offered for the mills. She’d almost made up her mind to reject the offer, but if it was Arkwright she would have made herself an enemy.
Yet to allow him to destroy all her father had set out to do was unthinkable.
‘Isn’t it lovely out?’ Francesca asked, coming up beside her. ‘How do you like your mare?’
‘She is perfect. Very responsive,’ Sarah said. ‘John is ahead of us—shall we catch him up?’
‘Yes.’ Francesca did not immediately suit her actions to her words. ‘Are you still upset? You won’t have to leave us, will you?’
‘No, I shan’t leave you for a while,’ Sarah said. ‘Come on, let’s try them out...’
She touched her heels lightly to the mare’s flanks and set off in pursuit of John, who had ridden on with his groom at a faster pace. She would not let the problem of the mills upset her. Although this interlude could not last long, she was determined to make the most of it for as long as she could.
* * *
Rupert saw the group just ahead of him. He had set out after them, expecting that it might take some time to catch up, but obviously they had ambled along for much of the ride. They had separated out a little, John and the groom ahead and the two girls at the rear. He saw they were just about to set out in pursuit when something caught his eye. A man was watching them, and as Rupert watched he drew out a pistol and fired in their direction.
‘Look out!’ The warning made the rogue’s arm jerk. He turned, stared at Rupert, then set off at a run, disappearing into the trees. ‘Damn it!’
Rupert saw that the shot had caused one of the ladies to fall from her horse. He was tempted to pursue the rogue who had fired at them, but knew the ladies came first. Swearing to himself, he rode up to them, his feelings mixed as he saw it was Francesca on the ground. Relieved that Sarah was all right, he was off his horse and kneeling over Francesca in an instant.
‘Are you all right? Did that rogue wing you?’
‘No...’ Francesca accepted his hand and stood up. ‘The shot went wide of us, but my horse reared and I slid off. I feel such an idiot. I should have managed to hang on.’
‘Not your fault,’ Rupert said. ‘Have you broken anything? Do you feel any pain?’
‘No, just a little bruised. I think my pride is hurt more than anything else. I thought I was a good horsewoman.’
‘So you are,’ Sarah assured her. ‘That poacher’s shot spooked your horse, that’s all. Anyone could have fallen off the way you did.’
‘Sarah is right,’ Rupert agreed. ‘You mustn’t blame yourself or your horse. Damned poacher! I would have gone after him, but I was concerned you might be hurt.’
‘No, I’m all right. I thought Grandfather’s keepers had scared off all the poachers.’
‘Apparently not this one,’ Rupert replied grimly. ‘I’ll have them double the watch. I know this isn’t technically a part of the estate, but it’s still private property. It belongs to Lord Henry James and he will have to be told. He will not want poachers on his estate.’
‘Lord James is hardly ever here,’ Francesca said. ‘I think he spends most of his time in London. However, I heard that his nephew, Sir Roger Grey, had come down to oversee the property for him for a little while.’
‘Sir Roger Grey?’ Sarah asked, looking at her oddly.
‘Yes, do you know him?’ Rupert asked, gaze narrowing as he saw the expression in her eyes.
‘Oh...yes, I may have met him once,’ Sarah admitted, a flush in her cheeks. ‘If Lord James is often away, I dare say he does not bother about protecting his game as he ought.’
‘Well, perhaps he should. I must ride over and speak to his nephew about it. We cannot allow this kind of thing to continue. One of you might have been badly hurt,’ Rupert replied and frowned. ‘Are you able to ride, Francesca?’
‘Yes, of course,’ she said.
‘Up you get, then,’ Rupert said and dismounted. He gave her his hand and threw her up in the saddle, looking at her with approval. ‘That’s my good brave girl.’
‘I’ve fallen before. Please do not worry about me,’ Francesca said and looked at Sarah. ‘Are you all right? I thought the shot was nearer you than me.’
‘It passed quite close. I felt the wind on my cheek,’ Sarah said and Rupert looked at her again.
‘Has it shaken you?’
‘No, not particularly, though it was not a pleasant experience. I am glad you arrived when you did, Lord Myers.’
‘Indeed.’ He looked at her hard and saw something in her eyes. She didn’t think that shot had been an accident—and Rupert was damned sure it hadn’t, though he was prepared to let Francesca believe it. ‘The rogue saw me and ran. His arm jerked and that may have made his aim go astray.’
‘Was he aiming for a bird or a rabbit?’ Francesca asked. ‘There’s plenty of game in these meadows, but I should’ve thought poachers preferred to set traps.’
‘Some of them,’ Rupert said. ‘Shall we continue our ride? It is not likely to happen again. I think whoever it was will not do it again.’
‘I’m sure he won’t now that you are here,’ Sarah said. ‘It would be a shame to let him spoil our day and so we shan’t.’
‘Certainly not,’ Francesca said. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this and no poacher is going to put me off.’
John rode up to them and stared at his sister. ‘Are you all right, Fran? Who do you think was firing at Miss Goodrum?’
‘It was a poacher,’ Sarah said. ‘Just a foolish mistake.’
‘No. I saw him,’ John insisted. ‘I looked that way. He took his pistol out and fired at you, Sarah. I know he did. Why would anyone want to kill you?’
‘I am sure they wouldn’t,’ Sarah said and forced a smile, but Rupert saw that she looked shaken.
‘It looked that way, John,’ he said, ‘but I dare say it was just an accident. Please do not frighten the ladies. Come on, I want you to show me your pony’s paces.’
John frowned, then inclined his head and obeyed his mentor. As the two of them set off, Francesca looked at Sarah.
‘Is there anyone who would want to kill you?’
Sarah hesitated, then, ‘I’m not sure. I would not have thought so—but if John saw him aim at me...’
‘If there is anything, you should tell Uncle Rupert,’ Francesca said. ‘He likes you, Sarah. I am sure he would help you if you are in trouble.’
‘Yes, perhaps. Forget it for now,’ Sarah said. ‘Let us catch up with the others. It will soon be time to return for nuncheon...’
Chapter Seven (#ufeff8085-7298-5e54-93e5-cf6e726fbba8)
Sarah was thoughtful as she parted from the others and went to her room to change before nuncheon. The shot had been very close to hitting her. The mare had shied, but she’d been able to control it and no one had noticed her difficulty because Francesca’s horse had reared up and unseated her. It had been a most unpleasant incident and Sarah could not help thinking that the shot might have been meant for her. Yet who would want her dead?
Her uncle would inherit her estate as things stood, because she hadn’t made a will. There was no one else she’d wanted to leave her fortune to and Uncle William had been kind after her father’s death, even if he would have liked to tell her what to do. She did not believe for one moment that he would murder her for her money. So who else could it be—and why?
She had, of course, made some enemies since her father died. She’d refused several offers of marriage and a couple of offers to buy her property. That might cause some people to dislike her—but murder? As for Sir Roger...he hadn’t taken kindly to being turned down, but she could not see how her death would benefit him.
Besides, how would any of her enemies know she was staying here—or where she would be that particular morning? The answer must be that they would not so it followed that the shot had been a mistake even if it had seemed to John that the poacher had fired with intent.
Sarah would be foolish to allow the incident to play on her mind. It was an unfortunate accident and unlikely to happen again.
She changed quickly out of her riding habit. No one had been hurt so they could go on as if nothing had happened.
* * *
Why would anyone want to kill Sarah? Rupert puzzled over it after having had a word with the groom.
‘Did you see the poacher, Jed?’
‘Yes, my lord. He seemed to act on impulse, if you ask me. Just fired quickly and then ran for it. I would’ve gone after him, but I thought I should stay with Master John.’
‘Quite right. And I was concerned for Francesca. I fear the rogue got away too easily. It will not happen again. In future I want another groom to follow at a distance when the ladies go riding—and he is to be armed.’
‘Do you think it was intentional, sir?’
‘More like someone seeing his chance and acting impulsively. The question is, why would anyone want to harm either Francesca or Miss Goodrum?’
‘We’ve never had anything like that here before, sir. Miss Francesca is an innocent—never been out in company much. Begging your pardon, sir, but none of us know much about Miss Goodrum. Not that I mean any offence, my lord.’
‘None taken. One thing I am certain of, whoever this rogue is he should not be allowed a second chance. I do not believe Miss Goodrum to have done anything that should make anyone want to kill her. She has excellent references.’
‘Yes, sir. It was just a thought.’
It was indeed a thought, Rupert mused. He’d defended her to the groom, naturally, but it was perfectly true that they knew little enough about Miss Goodrum. She had been given an excellent reference, but—was she truly who she claimed to be? Could she have done something that had made someone want revenge—enough to pay an assassin to kill her? It would have to be something serious.
Rupert had drawn back from searching Sarah’s room for the key to her writing box, but there was clearly a mystery and, after this morning’s incident when Francesca had come so close to being injured, he needed to know the truth. He would ask to speak to her that afternoon and get to the bottom of this affair.
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Anne Herries
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: It’s time to take a chance on love…His Unusual Governess by Anne HerriesSarah Hardcastle is convinced her plan to escape the unwanted attentions of a fortune-hunter are fool-proof. But her careful masquerade is shaken when she meets Lord Rupert Myers. Sarah will need her wits about her if she’s to resist Rupert’s roguish ways and keep her secret intact…Claiming the Chaperon’s Heart by Anne HerriesLord Frant is haunted by his experiences in India but when he meets recently widowed Lady Jane March he allows himself to forget. Together, they must chase away the past and find a new future!