Governesses Under The Mistletoe. Liz Tyner
was arranging pins when the door opened and William looked inside. His lips quirked up. ‘Songbird, do not do yourself up too pretty. My sister is used to looking at me.’
Her hands stopped. ‘I’m a sight.’
‘You—’ he reached in, took her hands and pulled her with him, as he backed from the carriage ‘—are a sight like a swan in the moonlight. And all swans do not have their feathers always perfect. Sometimes the birds flutter about and feathers fly everywhere, but not for one moment do they stop being swans.’
‘You’re quite flattering.’
‘You deserve it,’ he said, leaning low so he could speak quietly as they walked up the steps. ‘But with three sisters, I’ve had lots of practice, not that they don’t deserve it as well. But my sisters gave me a list once.’
‘A list?’
‘Yes. A list of compliments. They had sat around one evening and decided what wonderful phrases they should like to hear from me instead of my asking if they had memorised their lessons, or practised pianoforte or were kind to each other. Every time I corrected them in any way, I was to repeat one of their compliments and add one of my own.’
‘I should have liked to have had a brother like you.’
Opening the door, he ushered her inside. ‘Sophia said she married in spite of having a brother and Rosalind claims she and Harriet are unwed because if I am among the best of men, then she fears for her sanity should she end up with someone only twice as good as I am.’
Gazing at him, she tried to think of suitable words to thank him for what he’d done. But her voice fled. She brushed a hand to her neck, wishing she could find something to say that explained what she felt.
‘Oh...’ Gently, he took her hand from her throat and his forehead almost touched hers. ‘Please don’t look so stricken.’
‘I owe you—’ she breathed out ‘—so much.’ She clutched his lapel to remain upright.
With the lightest touch at the small of her back, he kept her steady, his whisper caressing her. ‘I would have done the same for anyone.’
She tightened her clasp on his lapel. ‘That only makes you...even better.’
He shook his head, darting a glance upwards, before returning his gaze to hers. ‘I’m only two whiskers away from being a drunken, gambling, rakish, penniless, thankless, conceited heir to a viscount. Please don’t let anything else get out about me and ruin my carefully earned reputation.’
‘You were the only one who came to my rescue and I screamed. I’m sure I did.’ She flattened her palm against the wool of his coat. ‘I’m so fortunate you were there.’
‘I just wish...things had been more like you wanted,’ he said and his eyes fell to her arm.
‘I couldn’t have...’ She tugged at the gown’s shoulder, aware that only a bare inch held the garment. ‘It was almost worth it to know there are men like you in the world.’
He grunted a denial and he watched her hand struggle with the fabric. ‘Do not think about that, Isabel.’ His words softened into a whisper. ‘It is beyond your repair.’ He took a smallest lamp from the side table and held it aloft so she could manage the stairs.
When they reached the sitting room, he led her to an armed chair upholstered in burgundy. He lit another lamp and put it on a table at her side.
‘I’ll get Sophia,’ he said, leaving.
She’d expected him to ring for a maid, but he’d acted much like someone of her own means would. Her mother’s maid-of-all-work wouldn’t have been roused this late in the evening because it would have taken more time than the simple task of fetching someone.
Isabel glanced around the room and found it little different from her parents’ home. The lamps were more plentiful and the painting above the fireplace had quite a large frame, but other than that, the chamber could have been in a country squire’s house.
William returned, and shook his head. ‘She has to put her hair up.’
Immediately Isabel took in a breath.
‘Do not concern yourself,’ he said, his face reassuring. ‘It’s Sophie. My sister. The one with—’
‘With...?’
A woman walked in, hardly looking old enough not to have her own governess. Her hair frazzled around its pins. The dressing gown had the same capped sleeves of a day dress, but the drape and sheen of a something one could wear at a soirée.
‘With the most beautiful smile in the world,’ William continued.
William introduced them, talking as smoothly as if they were at a morning call and the day was dawning with the promise of sunbeams and wildflowers.
When Sophia saw Isabel, her mouth opened and she said nothing at first. Then she said, ‘Your arm... I must get a cloth to clean your arm.’
Isabel stood. ‘It’s dried now. And only stings a little. Your brother saved me.’
‘Oh, him.’ She shrugged the words away. ‘I slipped and fell into a stream head first and he tugged me home by my ear because he said I scared him so.’ She thrust her hand sideways, giving a punch to William’s arm. ‘I still haven’t forgiven him for making one ear crooked.’
William examined her ears. ‘Yes. Hideous. Makes me shudder.’
Sophia waved his words away and stepped towards Isabel. ‘So let us get you all mended.’
‘Soph—’ William interrupted. ‘There is one other thing. I would not want to send a rider in the darkness, but you must pen a quick post in the morning for delivery to her employer. Just make up something about her rescuing you and a companion from a horrible attack of wasps or something and how she could not leave you abandoned... You know, the same story you told Aunt Emilia.’ He winked. ‘It is a shame to let such a tale fade away when it could be used twice.’
Sophia shook her head. ‘I don’t think Aunt Emilia believed me.’
William snorted. ‘I know she didn’t. She told me I must get you married off immediately, so I looked about and tossed a suitable fellow your way.’
Sophia raised her chin, smiled and added drama to her voice. ‘And all it took was one dance and he was smitten.’
‘See, Miss Morton...’ William tucked his hands behind his back ‘...she is good at folderol.’ He turned to leave, then stopped and looked at his sister. ‘You might let Aunt Emilia know of the tale. Just in case.’
‘I shall. But she’ll not be awake early in the morning. She’s attending a dinner at the Brownings’ tonight and she’ll not be the first one to leave as she has put on her marriage-mart gloves again. She thinks our sisters should not rusticate away in the country.’
‘She may be right.’
‘Oh, please.’ Sophia’s voice turned whimsical. ‘Once it’s known that Ros and Harriet are interested in courting, Aunt Emilia will be sorting out the proposals and you will be complaining because the suitors are not worthy. Aunt Emilia is planning to get an early start on the Season. Even the people who have been in the country for the summer are returning to be at the dinner. Apparently it is quite the event because they all wish to discuss Nash’s plans for our town. We can’t let Bonaparte outshine us.’
‘I’m surprised I found you at home.’
‘Only because I do not wish to get into a heated discussion about architecture or Napoleon and prefer to spend the evening with my smitten husband.’
‘Now you will be hearing about Nash’s plans from Aunt Emilia, or her battle plans for capturing beaus for our sisters.’ He raised his chin and smiled at Isabel. ‘Our aunt does like to go about. Even though she has a home in