The Mysterious Governess (Daughters of Sin Book 3) (15 page)

Not surprisingly, Miss Maria eagerly gave her assent, and without wasting a moment, Lissa changed into her Sunday best and departed the household to visit Ralph.

He was astonished to see her, and hurried round from behind his desk to take her hands and kiss them, for they were alone in the small office where he worked not far from the Inns of Court.

“My angel! Miss Hazlett, what brings you here?” He grinned then added jokingly, “I’m afraid we can’t elope yet. I’ve still not made enough to keep us both. But if you can remain patient—”

“Oh Mr. Tunley!” She cut him off. “I can be as patient as I have to be. But I’m here on important business.” And she proceeded to confide in him the events of her evening at Vauxhall while his expression grew ever more astonished.

“So now I must urgently warn Mrs. Crossing that she’s about to be revealed. Her husband looks a cruel and unsympathetic man, and when he sees the sketch that Master Cosmo intends to deliver to him shortly, and which I have drawn, he will beat her, if not worse. She’ll never be able to run away with the man she truly loves.”

Ralph patted her down onto a red velvet upholstered chair and knelt at her side. “Hush, my love, you are overset. We must think on the problem calmly so that we can discover a solution.”

Lissa was an independent soul. She’d had to be, since her parents were so involved with one another to the exclusion of their children, so it was a novelty to have anyone take a real concern in her affairs. Ralph’s tender ministrations inspired in her a fierce determination to make something of what she felt could be realized between them.

If they only had the means.

Finally he rose and began to pace, stopping on the edge of the Persian carpet to lean against the desk. Reaching for the sketch Lissa had shown him of Lord Debenham in company with Lord Smythe and another gentleman in the supper room at Vauxhall, he held it up to the light. “Indeed, that’s my employer to a tee.” He nodded slowly, his expression admiring. “Look at that cruel mouth. Not only is it physically and anatomically correct, but you’ve managed to imbue him with his signature arrogant, cynical air. As for those other gentlemen, I’ve seen them make clandestine visits to the office. Always thought they were too smoky by half. You truly are a gifted artist, Miss Hazlett.”

“Well, my gift is about cause great and unintended harm! Please, Ralph, you do agree the matter is serious? But before I go on, may I say that I think we are familiar enough with one another, surely, for you to call me Larissa...though I prefer Lissa.”

“And you shall call me Ralph.” His gentle smile became a grin. “My, but we have come a long way since our auspicious introduction...Lissa, and I am determined that we shall travel far together, but for that, I shall need luck and ingenuity.” He became brisk. “Enough of daydreaming. You have an immediate problem, though I believe I have a bigger one in Lord Debenham.”

“Yes, Ralph, but I came here for help regarding Mrs. Crossing. I fear it will go very badly for her. Her husband is not a nice man.”

“But, short of murder, he is entitled to discipline his wife as he sees fit, and if he is confronted with evidence that she has been behaving in what you suggest was an unwifely manner, then the law—and indeed, public opinion—will side with him.”

“You surely don’t think that justifies—”

Ralph held up his hand to cut off her protest. “It doesn’t matter what I think. I’m stating facts. And unless you have managed to steal the sketch from Master Cosmo, I don’t see that we can do anything except forewarn your lady in potential distress.”

Lissa felt very downcast. Miserably, she said, “Master Cosmo has informed Mr. Crossing that he will hand over the sketch this afternoon.”

“Do you know where Mr. Crossing lives?”

Lissa shook her head. “All I know is that they’ll both be at Lady Smythe’s ball on Thursday, only then it’ll be too late.” She sighed. “Master Cosmo was angling for an invitation. Originally he’d proposed handing over the sketch then.” She twisted her hands and shifted in her seat. “And I’ve gone a bit beyond myself in promising things I can’t deliver. The only reason Miss Maria, who is Cosmo’s sister, has agreed to keep my coming here secret is because I promised her that I would somehow get her an invitation, if not to Lady Smythe’s ball, then to others where she might meet prospective suitors who are more in line with her lofty ambitions.”

“You mean suitors more elevated than lowly clerks or men of business to much greater personages.”

“Oh Ralph, how can you say that?” Lissa leapt up and gripped Ralph’s hand, squeezing it and fearing she’d mortally offended him—until he burst out laughing at the same time as he wrapped his arms about her. “No, don’t pull away. It’s very nice and we are for now quite undisturbed, though I daresay it’s not proper at all that you’re here unchaperoned.”

“Indeed it is not and I shouldn’t be anywhere but looking after two very trying little girls. But Ralph, I have done a terrible disservice to Mrs. Crossing. What am I to do?”

He was thoughtful as he stroked her hair, still holding her against his chest. “The best plan, as you say, is to secure invitations to Lady Smythe’s ball for you, Master Cosmo and Miss Maria. You can use that enticement to Master Cosmo to hold off handing over the sketch and also to win over Miss Maria, so that she’ll happily be complicit in enabling you to see me whenever the urge presents itself. At least for the next few days. I’ve no doubt your Master Cosmo would be unable to resist rubbing shoulders with those whose hallowed ranks he wishes to join. Tell Master Cosmo to send a note round to Mr. Crossing to say he’ll hand over the sketch at Lady Smythe’s ball. Then as soon as you arrive at the ball, you must try and find Mrs. Crossing to warn her. It doesn’t help her much, but forewarned is forearmed. If she fears for her safety so much and is planning to elope with her lover, as you suggest, she might get a message to him, asking for his help.” He shrugged. “Not that I know the first thing about the circumstances, though I hate the idea of any woman suffering violence at the hands of someone who has the advantage of strength and brutality. However, she is guilty. There’s no justifying infidelity.”

Lissa thought of her own parents, and of the new babe Lady Partington was soon to deliver. Perhaps it would be a son, her father’s longed-for heir. Meanwhile Lissa’s new sibling would be another Hazlett bastard. Both her parents were guilty of infidelity and she was the product.

“Oh, Lissa, my dearest heart, I never meant to hurt you with my thoughtless reference.” Ralph, realizing his faux pas, squeezed her tightly and kissed the top of her head.

“I know you didn’t and I don’t blame you for it.” Lissa sighed as she raised her face to his. “It’s true that my life has been blighted through the infidelity of my parents. But I’m not going to think of that. All I know is that I need to live with my conscience, which means I can’t be the reason harm comes to Mrs. Crossing, regardless of her crime.” She hadn’t realized her fists were clenched until Ralph gently uncurled them. Frustrated, she added on a sigh, “But listen to me run on. How am I to secure these invitations to Lady Smythe’s ball? Everything you say is wonderful, but these are not the circles in which I mix. Nor do I believe Araminta is in a position to ask Lady Smythe.” Not with her sister having caused such a recent scandal, she thought.

“But they are the circles in which my brother mixes.” Ralph shrugged at her surprise as he put her away from him, still holding her hands. “He would organize it without a problem, my sweet. I just need to ask him.”

“Your brother? Could he?”

“Yes, Teddy, the eldest of my five older brothers, will probably be in attendance in any case. He could, and he would, secure an invitation if I requested it of him. Now, tell me again the names of this extensive guest list we must submit to Lady Smythe. I cannot possibly be expected to remember the proper name of Miss Mary or whoever she is when my senses are so entirely filled with the vision of loveliness before me.”

In a dreamlike state, Lissa returned to the Lamont household, where a very cross Miss Maria met her at the doorway to the nursery.

“You’ve been gone an age and Nellie and Harriet have been positive demons. I can’t bear to spend another moment alone with them.”

Lissa did not bother to remark that she regularly felt the same way but she was able to quickly ameliorate Miss Maria’s ill temper when she told her about the invitation to Lady Smythe’s ball that would be forthcoming.

A
raminta had no wish to attend Lady Smythe’s ball. For the first time in her life she wanted only to bury her head beneath her feather down pillow and block out the world.

Friends whom Araminta didn’t know she had called in unexpectedly to discuss Hetty’s scandalous behavior, rather than the fetching effect created by the mixture of fake and real foliage in Araminta’s new bonnet she’d picked up that morning from the milliner.

Mrs. Bradbury’s sympathetic horror at Hetty’s scandalous behavior was barely tolerable, but it took all of Araminta’s willpower during afternoon tea not to hurl a plate of neenish tarts at Miss Potter’s smug, “Whoever would have thought the younger Miss Partington would waltz off with a husband first? I suppose beauty doesn’t count for everything, after all.”

So now here she was, at Lady Smythe’s grand affair, grimly fielding the inevitable opinions of the gossipers who wished to include her in their speculations as to how Hetty had waltzed off with such a dashing, dangerous gentleman.

Watching a shy but eminently eligible young blade head in her direction then clearly reconsider and address the plain miss to her right was like salt in a wound. Araminta felt like stamping her foot but tempered her anger so that she had the requisite well-bred smile for Lord Debenham when he suddenly emerged in front of her.

Once again fear and fascination warred within her. Why had she elicited Lissa’s help in discovering ways in which to win from him a marriage offer when she knew he was dangerous? The truth was, there was something decidedly exciting about that. She also knew a great deal more than he would like since she’d seen that letter, which put her in quite a nice bargaining position. If only she’d not burned it, she could have used it to encourage Lord Debenham to marry her, but then he might have considered that blackmail. Still, with the letter no longer in existence there was no stain on his character and for that he ought to want to reward her.

“Miss Partington looks uncommonly lonely all of a sudden. Not so full of fire and fun as on the last occasion we met, eh?”

Araminta was determined not to drop her gaze and show either shame or fear. “How delightful to see you, Lord Debenham.” Nevertheless, she felt ill at the sight of his nephew, Roderick Woking, who materialized beside him. “And you, sir,” she added, nodding.

“Poor Roderick was distraught when he heard your sister had been so ill used by that rascal, Sir Aubrey.” Lord Debenham’s reptilian smile reflected no sympathy for either Roderick or Araminta.

Mr. Woking moved restlessly beside him before he squared his receding chin. “Does she not realize her new husband will be made to forfeit everything when he’s convicted of his Spencean activities?” His rapid words were accompanied by a nervous hand wring before he ran his fingers through his sparse hair several times. “Yes, he will be brought to justice, and when he’s charged with treason, his estates will be forfeited to the crown. She should have thought of that.”

“Now, Roderick, common sense is not a trait that is observed when passion is in the ascendant. Miss Henrietta was obviously seduced by Sir Aubrey’s honeyed words, but she will rue the day. Fortunately her elder sister has more sense.” He bowed before Araminta. “Now, my dear nephew is enormously desirous of asking you to dance, though I fear we will find your dance card filled.”

No other young man had asked Araminta to stand up with him this evening, and the fear that Hetty had ruined her chances for a match this season made her want to weep.

Before she could snatch her dance card away, Lord Debenham had raised it, remarking, “Oh, indeed that is not the case. Well, perhaps you would do Roderick the honor of accompanying him onto the dance floor for this set. Regrettably I must leave you, as I have secured Miss Smythe for the next dance.”

With the greatest reluctance, Araminta allowed herself to be drawn onto the dance floor and into the limpid hold of Mr. Woking, as the dance was a waltz.

She tried to keep a semblance of a smile in place, for she could not show her aversion. But it was hard. The young man’s breath was like the breeze of death against her cheek. It made her want to gag but instead she kept her head held high and called upon all her reserves of stoicism. But as she glanced about the room and saw other young ladies with far more desirable dance partners, including—to her surprise—her own half-sister who was in the arms of a rather handsome young man she’d not noticed before, she felt like casting good manners to the wind and simply fleeing from this awful place.

Everybody was talking about Hetty and making speculations about what her sister’s scandalous actions would mean for Araminta. The only reason no gentleman had asked Araminta to dance was because of horrible, hateful Hetty, and to be perfectly honest, if Hetty walked into the room right now, Araminta would have called her to account in front of everyone.

She hadn’t realized Mr. Woking had spoken until he squeezed her hand and repeated his question with a concerned look. “My dear Miss Partington, I can see you are distracted, and I can well understand why, in view of the shame you must feel on your sister’s account.”

Araminta sent him a baleful look. “You cannot possibly understand, Mr. Woking. How dare you even presume to understand the anguish I am feeling at this very moment?”

Her voice had risen and she realized she’d have to temper her hysteria in view of the interested look her half-sister, who happened to be very near, had just sent her. Goodness, but how had Larissa managed to acquire an invitation—and who was that very charming, gentleman with the flyaway hair and warm blue eyes leading her around the dance floor?