The Earl and the Governess. Sarah Barnwell Elliott
a tinge of unwanted sympathy. He wasn’t married after all. A widower. It was rather sad, and even rather romantic.
Stop it, you fool, she ordered herself. Be sensible, like your father taught you.
‘I’m sorry for your loss, my lord. If you’ll step aside, then I will bid you good morning.’
He looked momentarily confused, but then it dawned on him what she’d meant. ‘It wasn’t my loss, Miss Thomas. Mary is my ward. She was left in my care when her father died three months ago. Her mother’s been dead for years.’
She took this in slowly. Not a widower. Not his child. She’d no reason to feel sorry for him. Instead, she felt suddenly defensive, as if he’d been misleading her. ‘It was brave of her father to entrust her to you.’
‘Then you agree I need your help?’
‘Help, yes, but not mine. I’ve no experience, and you’ve seen half-a-dozen competent governesses this morning alone. I suggest you hire one of them.’
‘But I prefer you.’
Strange sensations, making even her toes tingle. ‘I’ve already told you how I feel about your charity.’
‘I assure you, my motives are completely selfish. I did mention I was desperate? You wouldn’t have to work here for very long. I’ll soon start looking for a school to take her in the autumn, so I’d probably only require you for a matter of months.’
Ah—an escape route. ‘Months? But I need a permanent position. It will be better if I just keep looking.’ And keep getting rejected…
‘You won’t find one without experience.’
It was true, and she knew it. He’d persuade her if she didn’t leave soon. ‘I recognise that is a problem—’
‘Do you think I would simply leave you to wander the streets with no money?’ he asked, irritation entering his voice. ‘Do you know what happens to penniless young women with nowhere to go?’
‘I imagine many such women wander the streets without you noticing them.’
He couldn’t argue with that. She’d managed to fluster him, but not for long.
‘If you accept this position, Miss Thomas, I will give you a reference.’
‘For a summer’s work?’
‘It would be better than nothing.’
It would be. She realised that he would continue to obstruct the door until she agreed, so she returned to the sofa, feeling deflated.
She closed her eyes briefly and saw an image of Sebastian Cowes, who most likely knew where she was staying and had sent a man to follow her. Who she suspected had the most ignominious designs on her person and who would no doubt have her charged with debt if she didn’t give in. She didn’t know if the charges would hold, considering she hadn’t committed her father’s crimes, but they might if it could be proved she’d known about and benefited from them. And if not…well, no matter how badly her father had behaved, she didn’t want his reputation to suffer—as it surely would, if his secret was made public.
She thought also of her diminishing funds and of the long list of people who might one day realise what a fraud her father had been. Lord Lennox had returned to his desk, and she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. She felt, instinctively, that he wouldn’t hurt her, and living in his house would at least offer her temporary protection. True, she half-suspected that he harboured dishonourable designs of his own, but she was fairly certain she was imagining most of it. He probably flirted with every woman he met.
As it turned out, when she reasoned his offer through, she had little choice but to accept. It was the best she could hope for. She couldn’t pretend that she was a sheltered young lady any more.
‘I will consider it.’
‘There’s nothing to consider,’ he said without looking up from the documents he was perusing. ‘I need an answer now. You can always leave if you find you don’t like working for me.’
‘I will…yes, I will do it.’
He met her gaze, and she found herself startled by the emerald intensity of his eyes. Greener than she’d seen them before, and mesmerising. It must be the light.
‘Then you can start tomorrow. I’ll expect you here at ten.’
And that was that. He rose to open the study door and she found herself floating into the hall, unmoored and uncertain.
He spoke to Rogers, the footman, who was waiting to open the front door. ‘Miss Thomas will return tomorrow morning. She is to be Mary’s governess.’
Rogers nodded impassively. She turned around, looking for Lord Lennox, but he’d already returned to the study.
So she faced instead the bright afternoon, thinking that only the devil could have eyes like that.
Chapter Five
All of Isabelle’s possessions fit snugly into her three bags. Lord Lennox had made no provision to help her transport her things, probably overlooking the fact that unlike him she didn’t have her own carriage. For the time being she carried only one bag, containing just enough clothes for the next few days. If she hadn’t been sacked by the end of the week, she would come back to collect the rest.
She opened the front door, but hesitated before stepping outside. Portentous grey clouds filled the sky, and the smooth paving stones were already lightly specked with rain. She turned her head and glanced behind her. The other two bags were neatly stowed beneath Miss Standish’s dust-free hall table; her umbrella was at the bottom of one. Which one, she’d no idea, and she’d no time to look.
She stepped out and debated not going at all as a raindrop gently hit her cheek. What would happen if she simply didn’t show up? Will didn’t know where she lived, and he’d have no way to find her. She’d been awake half the night wondering if she’d made the right decision. Had she made a decision? As was her lot these days, she’d never really had a choice to begin with, and she was starting to think that Will had behaved rather highhandedly.
These were just cavils, though. He’d offered to help her, and she’d never been more sorely in need. She descended the steps, telling herself that it wasn’t raining very hard and that the light shower would soon pass. The bag tugged heavily on her arm as she walked down the street, but she tried not to think about it. If she didn’t get lost, she would reach his house in less than half an hour.
‘Miss Thomas.’
She started at the familiar voice, but she quickly regained her composure. What was he doing there?
‘Mr Cowes. Good heavens, you frightened me.’
Sebastian Cowes smiled slightly. He was attractive enough, with light brown hair and eyes, but Isabelle thought there was something unpleasant about his appearance, something calculating and cold in his overly starched, elaborately arranged cravat. ‘I apologise, Miss Thomas. I’ve been waiting for you.’
‘You might have knocked on the door, then. It’s more respectable than lurking in bushes.’ She spoke sharply, but she immediately wished she could revoke her words. Obviously the reason he hadn’t gone to the door was that he wanted to find her alone, with no one to protect her, and it wouldn’t be wise to provoke him. Although he was just a fraction of an inch shorter that her, she wasn’t going to fool herself—in any physical struggle he’d easily be the victor.
She started walking again. He fell in next to her. She glanced at him sideways, wondering if he planned to lead her down a deserted street and force her into a carriage.
‘How did you find me?’ she asked.
‘Were you hiding?’
‘No, of course not,’ she said irritably. ‘But I don’t