The Duke and The Governess (20 page)

‘Thank you, Annie.’ Jessica said softly as she looked over her appearance in the tall mirror on her wardrobe door. ‘I don’t think I’ll need your services anymore.’ She smiled at the maid. ‘And you must have other duties to perform.’

‘I do, Milady. But I’ve always wanted
to be a ladies maid and now I ‘
ave som
e experience maybe I can ask for
a transfer.’

‘I’m sure Susanna will require her own maid soon.’ Jessica smiled, ‘and if you need a reference I’ll be happy to oblige.’

‘You’re very kind, Milady.’ Annie bobbed a curtsey and withdrew.

Jessica went out into the main school room and took charge of the children. The day passed in a flurry of activities that included a three legged race and other field events.
Jessica spent the early part of the morning arranging ropes on the lawn with the aid of Bates, the gardener. It was mid-morning before the children arrived and Jessica quickly sorted them into their racing groups.
The parents watched with fascination as their children strived to win
and Jessica was surprised when all the adults turned out
.
She expected a
t
least half of them to be doing something else.

Elizabeth was paired with
Stephanie,
the Countess of Cromer
,
as they were the same age and size. Both Duke’s stood and watched proudly as their daughters won. They’d had a side bet, of course, but Boston was disgusted because he thought his daughter would win.

The children laughed and screamed, the parents exhorted them to excel and Jessica stood back and watched with satisfaction. She became aware of Lady Greyston’s baleful stare an
d wondered about her in the Duke’s bed
. In the end she stared back, with an inquisitive expression and Lady Greyston turned her back. ‘Giving me the cut direct, are you?’ she mutt
ered. ‘I wonder why?
’ She mulled it over while she got the boys ready for a sack race. Andrew had supplied the grain sacks and the half dozen boys waited at the start line.
Perhaps Annie was right and she has the hots for the Duke.
She sniggered at that thought, but decided she needed to keep her distance from the petulant Lady.

Jessica was stood watching the race when the Duke approached her. ‘Thank you, Lady Carruthers.’ He said formally, she curtsied in response.

‘Good morning, Your Grace.’ She responded with equal formality and distance. ‘Why would you thank me?’

‘Because I’ve never seen my daughter happier.’ He said, ‘look?’ and he pointed to Elizabeth as she squealed and jumped about for the racers. ‘I suppose it’s time I employed a governess for her.’ He murmured.

‘Probably. She’s the right age now.’ She looked up at him and smiled. ‘Just don’t offer me the job.’

‘Why?’ he asked jokingly. ‘I would have thought you’d find employment in a ducal residence more preferable.’

‘On the contrary, Your Grace.’ Jessica replied calmly, even though her heart pounded in her chest the moment he spoke to her. ‘I would find it very difficult
to
work
in your household.’
He looked down at her and the expression in his eyes almost made her melt on the spot
.
‘I think it would be unwise for me to put myself at your mercy.’

‘Interesting
choice of words
.’ The Duke said softly. ‘I should go
then, before I do just that
.’ He smiled again. ‘Remember. Ten o’clock at the clue tree.’ And with that he sauntered away.

Once Jessica announced the piggy back race, all the father’s were standing on the line. The only problem was that fathers of more than one child had to choose which one got to race, and that caused more arguments. For the two widows it was impossible. Jessica wondered whether she should try a mother and daughter race, but took one look at Lady Greyston and decided against it.

The Earl of Dean offered to take a child and wa
s paired up with Norfolk’s second son, the Earl of Walsham
. The race was won by the Duke of Warwick amid catcalls of cheating, as his daughter was so light. But all told it was a pleasant way to spend the morning.

The rest of the day went by in a flash and soon
after dinner,
Jessica was sitting in her bedroom
fastening up her hair and
debating what she would wear for her tryst.
Maybe something dark?
She pulled a claret coloured silk gown from her armoire and
removing the two petticoats, she
dressed swiftly, finishing with a
large,
dark shawl she had bought in a mad moment.

She checked the landing and it was clear, so she made her way quietly down the service stairs after wrapping the shawl over her hair and around her shoulders. Unless somebody saw her head on, they wouldn’t be able to recognise her. She cautiously paced through the servant’s areas until she gained access to the garden through the scullery.

She looked up at the moonlit sky full of winking stars and sighed. Carefully she picked her way through the vegetable patches of the kitchen garden and out of the gat
e to the main grounds
.
She stared across the lawn at the tree where she had tied a clue at the beginning of the week.

Caution made her take a circuitous route to her destination. It wouldn’t do to blatantly walk across the lawn in the moonlight as she could be seen.
She arrived at the tree only to find no-one there.
She hovered in the shadow of the tree fo
r what seemed like hours.

John had spent the afternoon riding with
Malvern,
Dean
and Norfolk. He could hardly concentrate for the rush of excitement and desire coursing through his veins at the thought of a tryst with Jessica.
For so many years she had b
een a dream, an unrequited love
almost and finally he was going to get to see her face to face. Alone! He couldn’t help but smile.

‘What are you smiling about, Johnny?’ Norfolk asked and John cleared his throat.

‘I was just thinking about my daughters face when sh
e sees the Shetland pony that Lo
rd Michael is going to sell to me.’ He said evasively and the discussion turned to horseflesh.

But Dean wasn’t so easily distracted. He waited until he could get John alone and said quietly. ‘If you break her heart, I’ll beat the living daylights out of you.’
and kicked his horse forward quickly to join the others, leaving John with the threat ringing in his ears.

He returned from the ride; spoke to the Head Groom, Andrew about the delivery of the pony for Elizabeth and walked back to the house with Lord Michael.
They went to the study, agreed a price and John wrote him a note. A glass of brandy sealed the deal along with a handshake and they chatted amiably for a while. When he could excuse hi
mself without causing offence
, John hurried from the study.
He ran
up the stairs two at a time, jogged along the landing to his room where
Masters had a bath ready for him and his evening clothes laid out.

Dinner was an agony of waiting. He hoped that his excitement wasn’t noticeable, but he felt sure that both Lady Greyston and
Lady Pritchard had taken an interest
.
He tried not to gulp down either his food or the wine, the last thing he needed was to be tipsy for her and by the time the ladies retired to the drawing room, everyone had noticed that the Duke was withdrawn.
Most put it down to Lady Greyston’s nocturnal visit.

The banter and ribald comments started as soon as Lady Evelyn closed the door on them and Plunkett started the rounds with the decanters.
The Duke ignored the hazing and soon the conversation turned to more important matters.
The main topic was the confounded war and the indigent French.

John didn’t partake of the conversation much and in no time they were being hustled back to the ladies.
John made sure he had a view of the beautiful Ormolu clock on the mantle, so that at a quarter before ten he could sneak out.
He stupidly lounged on a settee and immediately found himself sandwiched between Lady Greyston and Viscountess Boston and he generously gave them a few minutes of his time, before he got up to replenish his brandy glass and stood near the decanter with Norfolk.

Unfortunately he
was
waylaid by Lady Pritchard discussing Vict
oria and how good a friend she’d
been
at a quarter of ten
. It had taken him so
metime to extricate himself from that disturbing conversation
, but finally he manag
ed to break away with the excuse of needing the pot room. He managed to slink onto the terrace without being seen, or at least he thought he hadn’t been, but he was surprised to hear the door to the terrace
go be
hind him. He secreted himself behind
a large Rhododendron and watched Lady
Greyston walk by. He
waited until she had vanished around the corner of the house and he sprinted across the lawn to the tree where Jessica had tied a clue with a length of ribbon.

‘Jessica?’ he called softly and heard a rustle of silk as she stepped out from behind the tree.

‘You’re late.’ She said reproachfully.

‘I am. I got tied into a
very disturbing conversation with Lady Pritchard.’ He said distantly as if it was still on his mind. ‘The damned woman was a friend of Victoria’s.’ He shook his head and smiled at Jessica, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight. ‘Still I don’t want to talk about her. I want to talk about us.’ He took hold of Jessica’s hands and put them against his chest. ‘Do you know how many years I’ve dreamed of this moment?’ he asked softly and stepped in close.

‘As many as I have
, I should think.’ Jessica replied in a whisper, her voice not quite steady. Her whole body was trembling with excitement and not a little desire.

Very slowly he stroked his hands up her arms and gently pulled her against his chest. He didn’t make the mistake of kissing her, this time, he just held her close. As her body relaxed against him,
he received a waft of her scent;
lemon soap, a touch of orange blossom and the infinitely preferable smell of a woman. ‘You smell delicious.’ He
murmured as he unwound
the shawl from around her head. He dropped his lips onto her neck, making her gasp and shiver
. ‘Mmm. That’s better.’ He whispered.
‘I wanted to do this the night we met.’

Jessica
was almost in nirvana, as she buried her nose in his cravat and sniffed heartily of his aroma.
Mmm. Sandalwood and shaving soap.
She thought as she
cleared her excessively thick throat. ‘I thought you wanted to talk.’ She said, but couldn’t hide the tremor in her voice.

‘I do.’ John mumbled against her skin.  He jerked his head upright. ‘Sorry, you’re right. I do.’

Right at that moment a voice call ‘Your Grace?’ across the grass. Both of them recognised Lady Greyston’s voice and the Duke actually cringed.

‘Damn!’ John said faintly. ‘I thought she’d gone the other way.’

Jessica saw his teeth flash in the moonlight as he grabbed her elbow and steered her away from the tree. ‘I need a nice shady place.’ He murmured.

‘The Stable block.’ Jessica whispered and pointed to the long wall that was the back of the stable block, where it threw a very dark, deep shadow. John lengthened his stride, making Jessica run to keep up with him and then they were standing against the wall.

Lady Greyston rustled around in the trees for quite some time and both Jessica and John tried very hard not to snigger. They were silent when she passed by the stable block, but she didn’t see them because John had wrapped the shawl about Jessica, covering every inch of white skin and he held her in his arms and buried his face in her neck.
Jessica held her skirts around his legs to camouflage his light britches and stockings. John kept peeping to see where Lady Greyston
was.

‘She’s very persistent.’ Jessica whispered, with barely a sound, but he still heard the words. He lifted his eyes and saw Lady Greyston on the lawn heading back to the conservatory. He looked down to where Jessica’s face was just visible in the backwash of moonlight and he gently kissed her. It was a meeting of
lips, which
was a portent for so much more. He felt Jessica quiver in his arms and deepened the kiss,
twisting his face for a better angle. Jessica relaxed in his arms and slowly he worked her lips open, but instead of plundering her mouth, as he’d done the last time he’d kissed her, this time he flicked his tongue against the rim of her lips and she jumped and moaned softly. It almost undid him. He broke away from her fabulous mouth and squeezed her tight. ‘She... She’s gone.’ He said stumbling over the words he was so affected. ‘And so should we be. If we stay out here somebody will catch us.’ He looked down into the pale sphere of her face. ‘It’s infinitely more comfortable and private in my rooms.’