The Mysterious Governess (Daughters of Sin Book 3) (23 page)

No! She held out her hands imploringly. He had all but asked her the question upon which hinged her whole future. How could he withhold something so very important at the very last moment?

“Please understand me. I am not in a position right at this moment to say what my heart is pleading for me to say, but I do want you to know of my feelings.”

“Why can you not say it now?” She felt like crying with frustration.

“First there is something very important I must do. Do not look so sad.” He tilted her chin up with his forefinger and kissed her tenderly on the lips. “It can wait one more day. I should not have said what I did but you make me forget myself. You see, this is not the first time I’ve said it, is it? I am utterly mad for you, my darling girl.”

He offered his arm and reluctantly Araminta laid her hand upon it as they turned back toward the house. A gentle sun now bathed the damp lawn in a faded yellow light, warming his face as he smiled down at her.

“Tomorrow, I will see you. Tomorrow, I will ask you what I hope is the question you anticipate. And that you will give me the answer I wish to hear.”

R
alph was glad he would only be in Little Nipping for one night. Every couple of months he made the journey with Debenham who went to oversee his landholdings. On this occasion, Ralph had gone up ahead in a hired chaise. His Lordship was due to ride up later in the day.

Now, hunched over his desk in the overseer’s office, Ralph dipped his quill into the inkwell for more hated letter-writing. He was glad he did not have to put his own name to half of his employer’s correspondence, but increasingly he detested being a party to Debenham’s business dealings. The time had almost come when, despite several salary increases, he could no longer do this.

Generally, Lord Debenham left him to his own devices, satisfying himself with terse enquiries as to Ralph’s progress or tossing a sheaf of correspondence upon his desk with instructions on how he should expedite certain matters on his irregular visits.

But this afternoon, Lord Debenham strode into Ralph’s office, slammed the door behind him, paused, waiting for Ralph to acknowledge him, and when he did not, brought his fist down hard upon the surface close to where Ralph was working. The vibration caused a spattering of ink and Ralph jerked his head up in surprise.

“Don’t you glower at me!” His Lordship cried. “Not when I’m travel-stained and weary but fearing I may have to ride poste-haste home. First of all, what’s this business you’ve engaged in with my tenants that threatens to stall the eviction process?”

For a moment, Ralph was at a loss. “The notices have all been served, my lord.” Bad business all over, he thought. God, he hated this work.

“You sent a shilling to Rogers, and now he’s blessing me for my kindness. It’s got the wind up the rest of them, who are no longer convinced their Lucifer of a landlord has no mercy in him. Which of course he has not. Now all of them are dragging their heels because they’re under the illusion I have some soft spot that might be tapped!”

Ralph held up his hand so he could voice his protest. “My lord, I met Rogers last year, and his family, personally. How could I not do something? The youngest child is dying and needs medicine. A shilling was, I think—”

“I don’t pay you to think. I pay you to carry out my orders! Rogers believes I sent the money. But more to the point, what do you know about a sketch drawn of me at Vauxhall Gardens, which I neither commissioned nor authorized? Tell me that!”

Ralph was so taken aback at the turn in the conversation he didn’t know what to say? “A sketch?” he finally managed, hoping his dry throat didn’t give him away.

“Are you deaf? Yes, a sketch, that’s what I said. A sketch of me with two miscreants I’d liefer not be associated with. It’s all a lie, of course. Someone’s out to tar me with the same brush as two felonious suspects with Spencean leanings. Not something I’d be involved with, that’s to be sure. And now I’ve been depicted in their midst. A party to their plotting is what it’s meant to look like! Yes, well, you look suitably horrified, that’s good. But what are you going to do about it?”

Ralph carefully laid down his quill and leaned back in his chair. Lord Debenham was frequently bullying, all too often demanding and unreasonable, but this was the first time Ralph detected real fear in his employer’s face. He shook his head. “I’m afraid this is the first I’ve heard of any sketch.”

“Then tell me who has made a name for depicting a face so full of character there is no one who does not instantly recognize the subject?”

Ralph hoped he did not betray himself by the waves of fear that made him glad he was sitting down. He dropped his eyes as he reached for his quill, simply for something to occupy his shaking hand. “I cannot say, my lord.”

“There’s a name. I agreed that the fellow could do a drawing of me at some garden party. A piece of vanity. A bit of fun at the time. And it was an excellent sketch, I grant you. But I don’t recall his name, though he was quite the dandy. You surely remember it?” he insisted. “You’ve been about more than usual for you. Tell me where I can locate him so I can make him admit he falsified the drawing, that he was bribed by my enemies. By God, I’ll make him sorry!”

Ralph furrowed his brow as he forced himself not to react with either defensiveness or fear. “I do recall this artist who is making his name doing commissions,” he said slowly. “Though I had not heard of a sketch commissioned of yourself, my lord.”

“Well, one has been commissioned, and I need to find out who executed it and who ordered it!”

Ralph wasn’t about to mention Sir Archibald Ledger, who’d bought the sketch for such a huge sum. Of course he should have known there was more to the transaction than appeared to be the case.

Lord Debenham pounced. “You do know. Who is it?”

Quickly, Ralph tried to consider a range of ramifications for various answers. Of course, if Debenham discovered he’d deliberately withheld information it would be bad for him. And if Ralph did not tell him, Debenham would easily find out the information, elsewhere. With a sigh, he supplied an answer that would best serve Lissa’s interests.

***

L
issa was staring from the window in the nursery when, to her astonishment, she saw Lord Debenham’s carriage pull up at the front door and His Lordship, himself, march up the stairs.

She thought her legs were going to buckle beneath her. “I must...get something for the girls,” she said lamely to the nursery maid. “I’ll be gone but a minute.”

Quietly she crept down the back stairs. If Lord Debenham were after her, she’d be called into the drawing room. Was it about the sketch? Sir Archibald Ledger’s willingness to pay her such a huge sum should have alerted her to the fact there was more to it than a skillful drawing.

In just a couple of minutes, she heard his loud voice booming through the drawing room door as she was hurrying down the passage, past that room, hoping to make it into the garden. Lissa couldn’t help herself. It wasn’t eavesdropping. It was self-preservation. Tiptoeing to the door, she put her ear to the keyhole.

Mr. Cosmo Lamont, the famed sketcher, had apparently drawn Lord Debenham without his permission. His Lordship hadn’t seen the sketch but he’d heard that he’d been placed in company with two villains. A false rendition. He’d learned the news, of all places, in a tavern en route to the country and had returned immediately to London.

Clearly, Miss Maria Lamont was a party to this villainy, enticing His Lordship into the library at a specified time during last week’s ball, no doubt to blackmail him over the sketch before her courage had failed her. Were the two working together? Upstarts! Social climbers! To whom had Mr. Lamont sold the sketch? If Mr. Lamont didn’t divulge this information, Lord Debenham was going to call upon the full force of the law.

Quaking as she listened to this thunderous diatribe, Lissa wondered if she would hear Cosmo admitting that he couldn’t sketch a right ear, much less render a human being recognizable. The thought that she might be exposed and have to suffer the wrath of her darling Ralph’s employer was too terrifying.

The arrival in the passage of Mrs. Lamont saw Lissa scurrying back to the schoolroom before she could hear the end of the diatribe, but shortly after Lord Debenham stormed out of the house, Cosmo’s boots sounded upon the stairs.

“What have you told others about our secret arrangement?” he demanded, throwing open the nursery door. As Clara had just led his sisters downstairs, Lissa was alone. “Were the terms not crystal clear?” In a rage, he paced back and forth, nearly tripping over a small chair and kicking a rag doll into the corner. “We agreed I would get the commissions and, in return, you would deport yourself in society like the lady you’ve always wanted to be. How much simpler could it be? Clearly, you have gone above and beyond yourself!”

Lissa bridled at the way he sneered this. With an effort to control her anger, she reminded him, “And I would get a third, which, I might add, has not been forthcoming to date, Master Cosmo. Not all of it, by a long stretch. And no, I’ve said nothing to anyone.”

Perhaps it wasn’t wise to challenge him so directly. The room was gloomy and isolated and Cosmo could be unpredictable.

He took a menacing step forward, his brow rumpled like an angry bulldog. Lissa glanced nervously at the way he flexed his fingers, as if he really did wish to place them on her person and do her harm.

“So you have taken your revenge, is that it, Miss Hazlett? You think I am not a man of my word?” His nostrils twitched and the whites of his teeth were revealed by the curl of his lip. “You were so impatient for your money that you told lies so that Lord Debenham would threaten me, and you assumed I’d be so terrified I’d hand over the money you believe you’re owed.”

“I’ve told Lord Debenham
nothing
, nor have I told anyone else about our arrangement,” Lissa reassured him, assessing her escape route. Cosmo was right when he accused her of not trusting him. “I do not know why he thinks he’s been drawn without his knowledge. No one has commissioned a picture of him.”

She clapped her hand to her mouth to stop mentioning the sketch in which he’d appeared with Lord Smythe and Buzby for this was clearly what had angered him. No, whatever happened, she could tell neither Lord Debenham nor Cosmo that this sketch had earned her five pounds after it had attracted such interest from Sir Archie Ledger.

Lissa angled herself toward the doorway but Master Cosmo pinched her shoulder and drew her roughly toward him.

“You are a liar, Miss Hazlett, but if you don’t want to find yourself walking the pavements without a character, you are going to do something for me.”

***

A
raminta’s nausea was as regular as clockwork. She’d feel ill mid-afternoon but as soon as she’d thrown up the contents of her stomach half an hour later, she’d be absolutely fine. Her breasts felt tender and she was more tired than usual, but neither had too much of an effect on her general mood which, right now, was ebullient.

She was going to be Lady Ludbridge, mistress of three estates and the cosseted wife of a sweet, handsome, very manageable viscount. She hoped the child she bore would be a girl. It would be only fair to Teddy, to present her new husband with a daughter rather than the desired heir, but regardless, her future was assured.

She had never been so happy.

Jane was busy brushing the hem of her walking dress, which she’d just taken off, in preparation for the gown she’d wear tonight.

Ah yes, the gown that had to be just perfect for her assignation with Teddy. Her grand seduction. The bodice could not be too tight, so that he might be enticed to slip his hand inside. She was glad skirts were fuller this year. That would aid the plans she had made.

“Stop doing that, Jane, and help me with my dress,” she said once she’d dabbed at her face with a cold flannel. “And don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

Increasingly, Araminta found Jane’s feigned innocence and her tight-lipped attitude beyond irritating. Much as she would love to get rid of the girl, she needed her. In fact, she’d need her until her wedding, when Araminta would find some means of passing her on. It was never wise to have a person who knew too much cluttering up the place.

“Like you disapprove of me. Yes, I know what you’re thinking but you’d not do anything differently if you were in my position.”

Araminta thought she heard the girl mutter something along the lines that she wouldn’t have got herself in Araminta’s position, but she pretended she didn’t hear. She was in too good a mood to let Jane spoil her wonderful contemplations about the future. Jane was just jealous.

“What do you think about these earrings?” Araminta sat down at her dressing table and tried on a pair of tiny pearl drop earrings.

“Very nice, miss.”

“They don’t bring out the emerald light in my eyes as well as these others but they are more demure. I think that is the look I should strive for.”

“Yes, miss.”

“For goodness’ sake, will you stop being so wretchedly censorious, Jane!”

Araminta swung round on her seat and glared at her maid, who had just dropped the hairbrush and was rising.

“Sorry, Miss.” Jane blanched visibly at her mistress’s fury, which made Araminta feel far more charitable toward her. “I bin meaning to ask. Did the young lady like Miss Hetty’s green dress?”

Araminta frowned, irritated at the memory of that night, which hadn’t at all gone to plan. Teddy should have witnessed Lissa secretly closeted in the library with the dangerous Lord Debenham, but her stupid half-sister had for some unknown reason lent the gown to her employer’s social-climbing daughter.

“She didn’t wear it, after all. Now will you stop asking how other people enjoyed things and start worrying about whether I’m likely to enjoy tonight with a maid as inept as you dropping everything and being impertinent. Time is galloping and you haven’t started on my hair!”

Excitement at her tryst was gaining hold. In truth, it was difficult to imagine anything else but the magical feeling of being in the arms of a man who truly adored her, a man who would lavish upon her beautiful clothes, her own carriage, three houses full of servants.