A Governess for the faithless Duke (Regency Romance) (Regency Tales Book 3) (4 page)

Lunch was a happy affair. The girls shared stories of their growing up with the housekeeper, and she marvelled that they had managed to turn out so well, for all they had been such tearaways as little girls. After lunch, the servants began to prepare for the return trip to the manor house, while Charlotte and her relatives returned to the inn. The Duke invited them to dinner, and to spend the night at Marbleton House. It was an unexpected invitation, and as he insisted, they gave in gracefully, and retrieved their belongings from the inn, paying their bill and waiting until his carriage came round to convey them to his residence. As the servants had not expected guests, no rooms had been prepared. However since the house party had so recently been concluded and his great aunt expected shortly, the ladies were put up in grand style in the rooms being readied for her arrival.

Charlotte took them up to the schoolroom, once they had had their things taken to the guest room, and then had asked Molly to bring the girls down to meet her family. Eliza, of course, was full of questions, which Amelia patiently answered, while Mary Anne sat quietly watching and shyly answering whatever questions were put to her.  For being so well behaved, Charlotte promised them an extra half an hour before bed, and they skipped away happily with Molly, just in time for the ladies to tidy themselves before dinner.

“In all, it has been a pleasant day,” Aunt Anne said at the end of dinner, turning to the Duke with a smile. “Thank you, Your Grace, for your very kind invitation, and for a delicious repast. But my nieces and I must retire now. Amelia and I leave tomorrow, and we would like to visit your chapel before we do so, if that is agreeable to you.”

She rose as she spoke, and the girls rose with her, Charlotte biting back a smile at how neatly her aunt had included her in the call to retire. She could not have asked for a more attentive chaperone if she were being courted by the Duke, who rose when they did, escorting her aunt to the door, the girls trailing behind them.

“It was my pleasure, Mrs Brington, and I would be very pleased if you would add to our vicar’s congregation on the morrow. He will appreciate your visit.”

Goodnights were said, and the girls followed their aunt up the stairs, Charlotte having to leave them to go to her own rooms on the far side of the house. She took her gifts with her, her mind full of the day’s adventures, and before she knew it, she was asleep.

Next day she woke early as always, and was ready for services before her aunt and sister, for whom the breezy country air and all of yesterday’s activities had proved too much. Eventually they were ready, and hurried to the chapel for early services. The building was old stone and sunshine, the stained glass simple but elegant, and the sermon, when the vicar got to it, plain spoken and powerful. Charlotte felt a pang of homesickness as she listened, thinking of her own father performing this very function in another village.

This vicar was a young man with a new wife and no children, and his living was larger than her father’s. And yet he appeared to be as humble, and as focused on the salvation of his congregation as her father was.

Back at the house, they were given a feast for breakfast, and then it was time for them to leave. Charlotte felt melancholy trying to assert itself, but she shook it off valiantly. She had been blessed to have her relatives with her, and she would not spoil the memory with maudlin tears.

She hugged and kissed her aunt and sister, handed them the letters she had written to Emma and her parents, and wished them a safe journey back home. She stood in front of the manor house and watched the carriage until it disappeared, waving madly until she could no longer see her sister’s hand. Then she went back indoors, hurrying away to her rooms before anyone could stop her, needing some space to bring her rioting emotions back in control. She had not realised how much she had missed her home until she had seen her relatives the day before. And with all the thoughts about the Duke battling with her melancholy, she knew she would be poor company.

The next week went by as quickly as the last had done, and by its end, Charlotte was back to her usual calm self. She had managed to avoid any contact with the Duke, walked when she knew he was otherwise occupied or absent from the premises, and so was able to keep thoughts about him to a minimum. And then his Great Aunt Agnes arrived and Charlotte once again found herself battling her inexplicable attraction to a man who was unattainable.

It began with dinner that second evening of his aunt’s visit, when she was invited by Lady Agnes to join them in the drawing room after dinner. The interrogation began almost immediately.

“Edmund tells me you have managed to tame Eliza, and have won over Mary Anne completely, Miss Williams,” Lady Agnes said, her booming tones ringing in the otherwise quiet room. “And he seems to approve of your methods. How exactly have you managed that?  Because as I recall, before his dear brother departed, he had a difficult time keeping governesses. You are very young to be so accomplished. What is your secret, child?”

Charlotte gritted her teeth.  She hated being called ‘child’ in that condescending tone of voice, and she hated the assessing look that took in her blue gown and saw immediately how poor it was. But this was her employer’s aunt, an aged woman who expected nothing less than total obedience from those beneath her. She held her irritation in check and answered carefully, remembering how a month earlier her words in answer to that same question had caused a rift between the Duke and herself.

“I give them something they want when they do well, Your Ladyship, and take something away when they do not,” she explained as patiently as she could.

Charlotte could feel the Duke’s eyes on her, and she valiantly refused to look at him, keeping her whole attention on his aunt.

“Ah, rewards and punishments, eh?”  Her shock at Lady Agnes’s words must have been visible, because the Duke smiled, and his aunt said, “That is what it is, is it not?  And a very good strategy at that!”

Charlotte replied, “Yes, Your Ladyship, I have found it to be quite effective.”

“And I have no doubt that you learned those skills at your mother’s knees. Your father is a vicar, is he not?”

“Yes, Your Ladyship, he is.”  Charlotte was proud of what her father did, and made no bones about showing it.

“Well, you can tell him from me that he has done well in raising a sensible daughter. Do you play?”

The rapid change of subject startled Charlotte who stuttered a “Yes,” in reply.

“Let us hear what you can do, then,” she demanded, and sat back, her hands holding her cane like a tool for punishment, should Charlotte perform poorly.

Having never played for the Duke before, Charlotte found herself unaccountably anxious to make a good impression, and then had to remind herself sternly that this was for his aunt, and that what he thought was immaterial to her. She sat at the piano, choosing to play from memory her favourite piece by Chopin, and letting herself forget her audience as she gave herself over to the music. When the last notes died away, applause greeted her and she opened her eyes to find two pairs trained on her.

“A skilled and accomplished young woman,” Lady Agnes exclaimed. “You play with passion, Miss Williams. Just what the girls need to learn to do.”

Charlotte thanked the
grande dame
for her kind words of praise, and sipped the glass of sherry she had been offered earlier by Milton. Lady Agnes spoke at length with her nephew before addressing her again.

“I expect you need to retire, Miss Williams, as your charges will be waiting for you bright and early on the morrow. Thank you for being so forthright and entertaining this evening.”

Charlotte was torn between being amused and being annoyed at how summarily she was being dismissed. But she rose and put her wine glass down on the table before turning to curtsy to the old lady and her nephew. He also stood and escorted her to the door.

“Thank you for being so patient with my aunt,” he said in a low voice. “I appreciate your restraint. Sleep well, Miss Williams.”

His words were innocuous enough, but Charlotte felt as though he had spoken words of seduction in her ear. Her cheeks warmed, and she said “Thank you,” in a breathless whisper before darting away to the stairs, rushing up them without looking back. Her limbs were all atremble as she got ready for bed, and she prayed that she would not have to endure another evening with them for a long while, or at least long enough to get herself back in control.

Edmund watched her dart away, and after his aunt took herself off to bed, he sat nursing a glass of whiskey. His thoughts were inevitably about, how his feelings for the shy governess were blossoming despite his efforts to remain aloof. She had made it difficult for him to see her, after her relatives had departed, and he knew why she had taken such a course of action. He respected her more than he could say for how she maintained a professional distance despite the mutual attraction that pulsed between them. Here was a woman worthy of a gentleman. And although he could not say he qualified as a gentle man, he knew that were he to be allowed to do so, he would make her a good husband, because he held her in such high regard. Even her avoidance was attractive to him, because it was so opposite to the actions of all the other women vying to become his duchess.

His thoughts went to Henrietta Aston, and he shuddered. She was a predator in a woman’s body, and he wanted no part of her. But he would have to tread carefully in his rejection of her, especially after the scandalous debacle with Lady Emily Blount. He poured himself a second drink, and stood by the window looking out over the moonlit garden.

Would Miss Charlotte Williams even consider him worthy of her affections? His reputation had taken a drumming.

He wished he knew why he wanted the one he was not supposed to want, and how he was to handle his inappropriate desires where she was concerned. The more he got to know his governess, the more he liked her, and the more he wanted to know her. He sighed. Why could his life not be simple for once?

Over the course of the next week, he found reason to visit her in the schoolroom. The first time he did so, she was so startled that she dropped the papers she had in her hands. He hurried to help her with them.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, Miss Williams,” he said, handing her the sheaf of papers. “I merely wished to see how my nieces are progressing, and to ask if there is anything that you need.”

“The girls are doing well, Your Grace. And there is nothing that I need, though I would ask that you permit them to play for your aunt one evening after dinner, so that she can hear how well they are doing in music. She seemed to think that it is an important skill for them to have.”

Edmund noted how she skirted anything personal in her response, and he wanted almost desperately to shake that cool reserve, to breach her walls. But there was little he could do with the children there to witness it.

Instead, he brought to her attention that he had appeared bearing gifts — apples for them all, picked fresh from the orchard.

“I know that you like to give the girls treats,” he said, explaining his presence, “and I thought these would make a nice treat before lunch.”

She thanked him prettily, but did not smile, and stayed a good distance from him as she helped the girls to tidy up. And when he offered to help, she told him he would be better served letting them plod along at their own pace, as the girls needed to learn responsibility, and if he did it for them, they would miss the lesson. He was tempted to point out the flaws in her argument, but he refrained when she pierced him with a sharp eye.

He consoled himself with the fact that at least he had gotten to see her, this time wearing a bright yellow shawl with the grey gown. He thought of all the well-dressed women who wanted his attention and his title, and knew that this woman in her plain grey gown was more beautiful than any of them. He wanted to shower her with beautiful things, but all he could do was to ensure that she was paid for her services to his nieces.

The dinner party at which she would appear, bringing the girls with her to entertain his guests, was two days away. He could not wait. He cautioned himself repeatedly, in the interim, even as he watched her, to let nothing show of his growing feelings for her.

The evening of the party arrived. His aunt was in her element, being the gracious hostess for the local gentry, and welcoming Tom Talford, Edmund’s oldest friend, and his aged father, Sir Algernon Talford, to their home, and presiding over the dinner table regally. He enjoyed his aunt’s visits, even when she was at her most acerbic, as she gave a certain gentility, and dignified appeal to his parties. The other guests included the vicar and his wife, his cousin James and his wife, and his other aunt Lady Jane Trowers and her companion. The women outnumbered the men, but as this was typical of his house parties in recent times, he was not overly concerned, particularly since none of the women there had set her cap at him, and the one in whom he was discovering a growing interest was avoiding him like the plague.

Edmund admired the pretty gown that Charlotte wore this evening. It was new, and fit her beautifully. It was a soft lavender with long sleeves, trimmed with lace, with a modestly cut neckline above a form-fitting bodice that showed her ample bosom to advantage. She wore no jewellery, and had piled her hair atop her head, leaving a few tendrils to slip away and feather down her neck. He tore his eyes away when she was announced, and avoided looking in her direction for most of dinner. After dinner, when he told Milton to have the girls brought down, she disappeared until they arrived, when she held their hands and led them into the drawing room, toward the grand piano he had there.

She spoke quietly to them, and they turned and smiled at him, making his heart warm. He held out his arms and they ran to him while she fidgeted with music sheets at the piano.

“Say good evening to your great aunt and our guests, Miss Eliza and Miss Mary Anne.”

The little girls curtsied prettily, and went to be kissed by his aunt, who looked them over critically, and nodded, as though she were satisfied by her perusal.

“Let us hear what you can do on the piano, then,” she said and the little girls went over to Charlotte where she stood by the piano.

Each child played a piece, which he recognised as having heard before on his visits to the schoolroom. Then they sat together on the stool and played a simple beginner’s duet, which he had not known they were practicing. They played it flawlessly, and he felt again a sense of rightness about his choice of a governess.

Charlotte had wrought no less than a miracle in his nieces in six weeks, not only in their behaviour but also in their accomplishments. He felt a deep pride for her, and hoped her efforts would be appreciated by his guests.

The girls’ performance was greeted with enthusiastic applause. They ran to him again to be hugged and kissed before they said their goodnights and were escorted up to bed by the nursemaid. Then it was Charlotte’s turn, and his aunt had a request.

“Play that piece you played for me the first time, child,” she ordered her. “I think Edmund’s guests will enjoy it as much as I did.”

Edmund watched Charlotte sit at the piano and close her eyes. Soon music echoed around the room, and he took the opportunity to observe the faces of his guests. They were all enraptured. Even Aunt Agnes, who had already heard it once, seemed wrapped up in its magic again. And when the music died away, everyone applauded with honest admiration.

“My congratulations, Miss Williams,” Lady Jane said. “I have scarce ever heard a pianoforte played more masterfully. It is no wonder the children did so well!”

Charlotte blushed deeply but managed to speak her thanks with quiet grace. The vicar asked for a particular piece, and she played it, to his endless delight. Then she excused herself, claiming an early rising for a ride she had promised the girls. Edmund escorted her to the door, and said, “Thank you for this evening. You made the girls, and me, very happy indeed. And everyone loved your performance on the pianoforte.”

“You’re welcome, Your Grace. It was my pleasure,” she replied.

“As it was mine to hear you and to have you here, Miss Williams,” he said, his voice low and laced with the feelings he was doing his best to keep in check.

When she looked into his eyes, no doubt startled by the tone of his words, he saw a flash of heat colour her cheeks. Her lips parted breathlessly as she looked up at him. The raw nakedness of emotion that shone through her eyes, stopped him in his tracks.

Before he could verify the truth of what he had seen, her gaze was guarded yet again and she hurried away.

Could it be that his little governess held him in the same regard as he did her?  The thought stirred him, but he still had guests to entertain. They would be with him for the next two days, until the weekend when they would all depart, as would Charlotte, whom he had given leave to visit with her family for a few days. But he had to see her before she departed, to find out if what he had seen was real or a figment of his imagination.

The next day he could not find her, and did not wish to invade the schoolroom, where he knew she would certainly be. He did not wish for anyone to remark upon his too frequent appearance there, as it would give rise to questions. And so he endured, and bided his time until he heard her greeting Milton as she was leaving by the front door to take her usual stroll after tea. He followed her, going through the door in his study, and came upon her by the fountain that she loved to sit beside.