From Governess to Society Bride. Helen Dickson
outburst and her forthright way of speaking that his superiority evaporated as he stared at the attractive young woman whose fury turned her dark blue eyes beneath gracefully winged dark brows to violet. Framed by a heavy mass of auburn hair arranged neatly beneath her bonnet, her face was striking, with creamy, glowing skin, high cheekbones, and a small round chin with a tiny, intriguing cleft in the centre. Her nose was straight, her mouth soft and generously wide. His gaze moved over her slender body with a familiarity that brought a rush of colour to her cheeks.
Mrs Brody was a young woman in her early twenties, and she moved with a natural grace and poise that evaded most of the women he knew. Despite being a married woman, she exuded a gentle innocence that he found appealing. Beneath this he sensed an adventurous spirit tinged with wilfulness and obstinacy.
Appalled that he could find the time to scrutinise a complete stranger who had entered his home uninvited and chastised him so forcefully, when all around him there was complete and utter chaos, in sheer frustration he turned from her.
‘I’ve had enough of this charade, Mrs Brody. I have to get on. No one invited you here. There is the door. Use it.’
Eve could feel her face flaming in response to his rudeness. Her momentary shock gave way to a sudden burst of wrath. ‘You’re right, they didn’t. I came to make sure your children’s nurse arrived home safely. She was taken ill in the park and I considered it an act of human kindness to see that she made it home without mishap. Now that is done, it will be my pleasure to remove myself and my child from your house—when I have retrieved my dog from all this chaos, that is.’
He spun round to face her once more, and for the first time Eve saw his hard façade crack. ‘Dog? What dog?’ he echoed blankly. There was more than irritation in his question—there was stunned amazement.
‘The one that disappeared up your stairs when we came in.’
‘Are you telling me that there is an animal running loose in my house?’
‘That is exactly what I’m saying—but don’t be alarmed,’ she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, ‘it won’t bite. Ah, here it is now,’ she said, thankful to see Sarah coming down the stairs with Jasper in her arms. Meeting her halfway, she took the pup and got hold of Estelle’s hand, impatient to get out of the house as quickly as possible.
‘I see Lord Stainton is out of sorts again,’ Sarah whispered softly, looking at Eve with quiet concern. ‘Are you all right?’ She glanced over her shoulder. ‘Have a care. His lordship is not a man to listen or be reasoned with when he’s in one of his infamous adverse moods.’
With her back to Lord Stainton, Eve smiled at Sarah. ‘Oh, I think I can manage his lordship, Sarah.’
‘Unfortunately his temper rules his head. He will soon calm down.’
‘No doubt so will I—when I am out of this mad house. Now you take care of yourself, and marry that young man of yours before too long.’
Confronting Lord Stainton for the last time at the bottom of the stairs, she lifted her chin, in no way intimidated by this man. ‘Seeing that you are in the middle of a self-destructive rage cycle, Lord Stainton, I’ll get out from under your feet. I’m only sorry that I subjected my daughter to the rantings of a very rude lord.’
‘You have caught me on a bad day, Mrs Brody.’
‘Considering I have encountered you on two occasions, Lord Stainton, judging by your behaviour it would seem that you have a bad day most days.’
‘Not at all, Mrs Brody. If your daughter has been in any way upset by my “rantings”, then she has a small measure of my sympathy—the remainder of it must go to your long-suffering husband.’
Eve looked at him directly. ‘I am a widow, Lord Stainton, and my husband’s suffering was of short duration. He was killed outright by an English bullet in New Orleans. Now,’ she said, grasping Estelle’s hand tighter and clutching Jasper to her bosom with the other, ‘I have no wish to detain you any longer. Good day to you.’ She swept out of the house like a galleon in full sail, too angry to say one more word.
In a state of suspense, Lord Stainton stared at the open doorway through which Mrs Brody had just disappeared, feeling as if a hurricane had just blown itself out. He also felt bewildered and extremely angry with himself and a complete idiot, his expression holding more than a little dismay and remorse at what Mrs Brody had just divulged. From an early age he had been taught by his parents and his tutors to project a veneer of civilisation, regardless of how he was feeling, particularly when his emotions were incensed. He had just failed dismally.
‘Miss Lacy,’ he called, halting the nursemaid as she climbed the stairs to take Sophie and Abigail to their rooms. ‘Mrs Brody? Who is she and where does she live?’
‘Apart from her name I—I don’t know who she is, Lord Stainton. She never said. Although she did say she lived on Berkeley Street.’
‘I see.’ He was about to turn away when he remembered something Mrs Brody had said. ‘Miss Lacy.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Mrs Brody did mention that you weren’t feeling well,’ he said on a softer note. ‘Do you need to see a doctor?’
‘No, sir. I’m feeling much better now.’ She bobbed a little curtsy. ‘Thank you for asking.’
‘Good.’ With the skill he’d perfected when his wife had left him, he turned away and coldly dismissed Mrs Brody from his mind.
Disturbed and upset following her encounter with the insufferable Lord Stainton, and feeling a headache coming on, with a morose sigh Eve sank on to the sofa in the drawing room of the Seagroves’ elegant house on Berkeley Street, unable to believe the furious altercation had happened at all. Her anger had evaporated somewhat on her walk back, but she was still shaken. The dejection that had replaced her fury was completely uncharacteristic of her.
With the children happily ensconced upstairs in the nursery and William, Beth’s devoted husband, at work at the Foreign Office, glad to have some time to themselves, Beth poured them both some tea and sat back. She cast a sharp, searching look at her friend’s exquisite features.
‘What has you looking so grim, Eve? Tell me.’
‘I met someone today.’
‘Did you? Well, there’s nothing so unusual about that. Is it someone I know?’
‘I would think so. Lord Stainton, and I have to say he is the rudest, most conceited man I have ever met in my life.’
Beth laughed. ‘Then that explains it. What happened?’
In no time at all Eve told her everything that had occurred, from the moment she had met Sarah Lacy in the park to being ordered out of Stainton House like one of the criminal fraternity. She didn’t tell her about their previous encounter in the park, since Beth was always chiding her for going off by herself. When she had finished Beth looked stunned.
‘Dear me! It sounds to me as if you have upset that illustrious lord.’
Eve grimaced. ‘I didn’t mean to—although I suppose I was somewhat rude and outspoken, and in his house, too. Do you know him, Beth?’
‘My dear Eve, the whole of London knows Lord Stainton.’
‘What do you know about him?’
‘He’s devastatingly handsome for one thing—you must admit that.’
Bringing the image of the tall, lean and superbly fit Lord Stainton to mind, Eve could not deny that despite his stern, finely chiselled mouth and the arrogant authority stamped in his firm jaw and the cynicism in his cold, light blue eyes, he was breathtakingly handsome. ‘Yes, I suppose he is.’
Beth sighed almost dreamily. ‘I do so like handsome men.’
‘I know. That’s why you married William,’ Eve commented teasingly.
‘Oh,