The Governess and Mr. Granville. Abby Gaines

The Governess and Mr. Granville - Abby Gaines


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of hiding his start of surprise, so now he looked up calmly.

      “Is Miss Somerton in the schoolroom?” he asked.

      “I believe, sir, Miss Somerton and the children are—” Molson hesitated “—in pursuit of lepidoptera.”

      “Chasing butterflies?” Dominic said blankly. “Why?”

      “Miss Somerton felt it was an occupation Masters Thomas and William should practice, sir. I believe she called it a lesson in nature sciences.”

      “What about the girls?” Dominic asked. “Shouldn’t they be stitching something?”

      “Misses Hester, Charlotte and Louisa are also pursuing lepidoptera.”

      Dominic frowned. In the past three weeks alone, he’d had to send word to the governess that shrieking outside the library window wasn’t acceptable. That allowing the children to drink lemonade in the billiard room—which, technically, was forbidden territory—left a sticky residue everywhere. Both times, instead of contrition, her response had been to invite him to play with the children. Extraordinary.

      When he’d found her timing the children as they slid down the banisters, his instinct had been to dismiss her on the spot. For his sister’s sake—Marianne had hired the woman, and would be distressed at having to replace her—he’d constrained his reaction to the delivery of a stern lecture about safe pursuits.

      Maybe today’s letter was timely, after all. “Send Miss Somerton to me as soon as they come inside,” he ordered.

      “Certainly, sir.” Molson’s confiding tone said he knew just why Dominic needed to see the governess. The butler glided from the room.

      Dominic wondered if he was the last to hear the news. He seldom traveled to London these days, and didn’t read the society pages of the newspaper. Unlike his butler, apparently. He presumed Marianne hadn’t—

      A scream from outside the library brought him to his feet. He strode to the door and flung it open.

      The entrance hall teemed with people—all five of Dominic’s children, Molson and a footman on his hands and knees, grimacing as he groped behind the oak chest that had been in the family since Elizabethan days. A maid stood pressed against the wall, her hand over her mouth: she must be the screamer. The last participant in this pandemonium was the governess, Miss Serena Somerton, who was patting the maid’s shoulder.

      “There, there, Alice,” she soothed. “It was only a lizard. It couldn’t possibly harm you.”

      Which told Dominic all he needed to know. “Thomas,” he barked.

      Silence fell, sudden and absolute.

      Eleven-year-old Thomas stepped forward. “Yes, Papa?”

      His twin sister, Hester, younger by thirty minutes, slipped her hand into his. Whatever trouble Thomas was in, Hetty would insist on sharing it. Which made it dashed hard for Dominic to discipline his son.

      “Did you bring a lizard inside, Thomas?” he asked.

      “Yes, Papa, but it was one I’d never seen before, and it was bright green and it looked right at me.”

      “It’s very beautiful,” Hetty said loyally.

      The younger girls, Charlotte and Louisa, nodded.

      “Only, it escaped,” Thomas explained, as if Dominic might not have guessed.

      Dominic rolled his eyes. “Did I not expressly forbid the bringing inside of wildlife because of the pain and inconvenience the household suffers when it escapes, as it invariably does? If my dogs can live outside, so can your lizard.”

      A flicker of agreement crossed the face of Gregory, the footman, who was straining to reach farther behind the chest. Seven-year-old William sucked in a tiny breath—either in awe at his brother’s daring to disobey, or in fear of the consequences.

      “Yes, sir,” Thomas said. “I’m very sorry.”

      With a tiny jerk of his head, Dominic indicated the maid, still being thoroughly shoulder-patted by Miss Somerton.

      “I’m very sorry, Alice,” Thomas said.

      “I didn’t mind at all, Master Thomas,” the maid lied brazenly, eyeing Dominic as if he was about to take a switch to his son’s behind. “Like you said, it was very pretty.”

      Thomas flashed her the charming smile that, more often than not, got him off the hook.

      What discipline would Miss Serena Somerton employ against this offense? Dominic wondered. He turned his attention to the governess. Goodness, she looked as if she’d been dragged backward through a bush.

      An assortment of leaves and twigs clung to the skirt of her pale gray dress. Her bonnet was decidedly askew, and although Dominic was no expert on fashion, he was fairly certain the blond tresses curled on her shoulders were meant to be inside the bonnet.

      And she had a smudge on her nose.

      The urge to restore order, to reach out with a handkerchief and wipe away that smudge, was almost overwhelming. But of course, he couldn’t do that.

      “Children, could you all please go to the schoolroom immediately.” The governess belatedly recalled her duties. “We will sketch some of the butterflies we observed.” She held up a hand to forestall Thomas’s protest. “I’m sure that when Gregory finds Captain Emerald—” Captain Emerald must be the lizard “—he will take him outside.”

      “You’ll put him somewhere safe, Gregory, won’t you?” Thomas pleaded.

      “Yes, Master Thomas,” the footman said through gritted teeth.

      Dominic suspected Gregory considered the safest place for the lizard to be under the heel of his shoe.

      “Miss Somerton, may I see you in the library?” Dominic asked, as the children traipsed upstairs in a semiorderly manner.

      “Certainly, Mr. Granville.” She took a step toward him as she began untying the strings of her bonnet, the brim of which had an unmistakable dent.

      “I suppose you’ll want to tidy yourself first,” Dominic said.

      She looked surprised, but said agreeably, “As you wish.” She lifted the bonnet from her head.

      Alice shrieked; Molson made an exclamation, quickly muffled.

      Miss Somerton turned to stare at them. “What’s wrong?”

      “It appears, Miss Somerton, you have a lizard on your head,” Dominic said.

      The green creature (emerald was a gross exaggeration) perched motionless, as if moving might reveal its location to people who hadn’t noticed it.

      Dominic braced himself for the governess to fall into a faint; he would be obligated to catch her.

      Instead, she stilled, not in panic, but in cautious relief. “Isn’t that just like a lizard?” she said. “I didn’t even feel it, the stealthy little creature!” She beamed at the butler. “Rather like you, Mr. Molson.”

      So she, too, found the butler’s ability to materialize out of nowhere disconcerting? Molson appeared to take being compared to a lizard as a compliment; his countenance retained its butlerish impassivity, but his eyes twinkled. Had Dominic observed his butler’s eyes twinkling before?

      “I don’t suppose you have a jar you could put over Captain Emerald, Mr. Granville?” Miss Somerton asked.

      “No, Miss Somerton, I do not carry a jar on my person for the purpose of trapping lizards on young ladies’ heads.” Dominic stepped closer. “But if you remain still, I hope to pluck it from your hair. With your permission.”

      It seemed to take her a moment to realize he was asking for that permission.

      She smiled suddenly, but carefully, so as not to move


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