His Unusual Governess (19 page)

It was only as James dismounted in the courtyard of his family home that the idea came to him. He had been feeling disgruntled because of the beating Lord Myers had given him—but Sarah Hardcastle didn’t deserve the fate Sir Roger had planned for her.

What could he do? He didn’t dare risk getting involved—but he might send a note warning of Sir Roger’s intentions, leaving it unsigned, of course. Yes, he rather thought that might serve. He would warn her that Sir Roger meant to abduct her—and that he was a vindictive man who meant her harm. He might also give her a hint that Sir Roger was the one who had shot her.

He might have made a mistake in associating
with a man like that and he rather thought he owed the family some sort of an apology for what he’d done. An anonymous letter to Lord Myers would be a perfect way of warning him of the danger without getting too involved. Lord Myers would know what to do.

‘I’
ve heard from Merrivale,’ Rupert said the next morning. ‘I had intended to leave today, as you know, but I think my business must wait. I’ve written to my agents and they may do some searching on my behalf.’

‘Oh …’ Sarah’s heart caught, her pleasure marred because he stayed for his uncle’s sake rather than hers. ‘I am glad that you need not leave us yet.’

Rupert looked down at her, his gaze narrowed. ‘You know I would not wish to leave you at all if it were not that my business is important?’

‘Yes, I know.’ Her heart raced as she looked up at him. The heat in his eyes made her wonder if perhaps she’d misjudged his reasons for
marrying her. ‘I’m glad you are staying. I was afraid the marquess might be angry with me for coming here under false pretences.’

‘I fear he may—which is one of the reasons I decided to wait and leave my work to an agent.’

‘Thank you …’ Her breath caught in her throat and for a moment she thought he would kiss her, but then Sir Freddie walked into the breakfast room and the moment was lost.

‘I was thinking of shooting a few pigeons,’ Rupert said. ‘Do you care to take the guns out for an hour or so?’

Sarah left them to their talk of sport and went upstairs to Francesca’s room. The girl was just having her hair done and she waited until the maid had left, before telling her that her grandfather was coming down and would arrive later that day.

‘Rupert has delayed his trip to be here,’ she said and saw a look of relief in Francesca’s eyes. ‘Are you anxious about something?’

‘Only that I am not sure Grandfather will permit us to become engaged at Christmas—and I do so want to, Sarah.’

‘Well, you must give him a little time, but I am sure that he will agree, dearest. Once he sees how happy you are.’

‘I hope he will not be angry with you, Sarah.’

‘Well, I dare say he may a little, but Rupert is here—he will talk to him and I must hope to be forgiven.’

‘Good afternoon, Miss Hardcastle.’ Merrivale’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her later that day. ‘My nephew has nothing but good to say of you, and it is clear how much better my girl is for your influence—but what have you to say to me? You came here under a false banner.’

‘Yes, sir, I did,’ Sarah said, meeting his gaze honestly. ‘It was very wrong of me, but I was not thinking clearly at the time. I am truly sorry for deceiving you by pretending to be the new governess.’

‘You ought not to have done it.’

‘I know and I do beg your pardon, sir.’

‘Well, all’s well that ends well,’ he said, beaming at her. ‘I can feel the difference your presence has made to this house—it hasn’t been so alive since before my girl married that scoundrel.’

‘That is a very great compliment, sir. I am flattered.’

‘I was too old to have the care of a couple of children when she died,’ he said heavily. ‘I didn’t know what to do with them and I fear I left them to a succession of governesses and tutors who let them down.’

‘They were certainly bored and lonely, but someone had managed to teach them some lessons.’ Sarah smiled at him. ‘What they needed was company—and Lord Myers provided a role model for John.’

‘Yes. It was a stroke of luck that he agreed to come down for a while. I’ve no idea why. He isn’t being pursued by creditors—I know that for a fact. I dare say he fell out with his current lady-love. I thought he might be interested in getting married, but it came to nothing. Dare say he wanted a little time to lick his wounds, what?’

Sarah inclined her head, but said nothing. Had Rupert lost the woman he loved shortly before he came down—and was that why he was willing to settle for second best?

The thought made her throat tighten, but she drove it away. She’d thought as they spoke that morning before he went shooting with Sir Freddie that he might care for her, but it must have been wishful thinking on her part.

The marquess was looking at her intently. ‘What do you think of this match between Francesca and Sir Freddie, then? Bit old for her?’

‘There is a difference in years, but I think they are in love.’

‘Are they indeed?’ His bushy brows met. ‘In my day we did not allow sentimentality to
enter the equation. However, I can’t have my girl breaking her heart so I suppose the match will have to be—but there’s no rush. I’ve decided on an engagement at Christmas and the wedding next year, perhaps in the summer.’

‘Yes, sir. Lord Myers rather thought you might be of that opinion and I have warned Francesca that she must be content to wait, because she is still very young.’

‘Kick up rough, did she?’

‘No, not at all. I think she just feels very fortunate to have found someone she can love—and to know he loves her.’

‘Sir Freddie wants to take her to meet his mother and sister. Suggested I go, too—and you, m’dear. Seems my girl cannot be parted from you. I told him I wasn’t ready for another journey just yet. He’ll have to be patient for a few days. Too much junketing around isn’t good for my health.’

‘You must take care of yourself—’ Sarah broke off as one of the footmen entered bearing a silver salver with a letter on it. ‘Good morning, Sims. Is the letter for the marquess?’

‘No, Miss Hardcastle. It is for you.’

‘For me?’ Sarah picked it up. ‘Thank you. I shall read it later.’

‘The boy said he was to wait for a reply, miss.’

‘Oh?’ Sarah tore it open and read the brief
message. It said that her uncle had been taken ill and she was to come at once if she wished to know the truth about her mother. ‘No …’

The Marquess of Merrivale looked at her face. ‘Is something troubling you, Miss Hardcastle?’

‘I am told my uncle is very ill and asks for me to come immediately.’

‘Then of course you must go, my dear. I shall send you in my own carriage with a maid and groom to accompany you.’

‘I’m not sure …’ Sarah was doubtful. ‘I promised Francesca I would stay and, besides, I do not know who has sent this. It is unsigned.’

‘Unsigned?’ Merrivale’s brows met. ‘That is a trifle unusual, what?’

‘Yes, it is.’ Sarah decided she must explain. ‘I was shot at and injured some days ago. I have recovered, as you see—but this might be a trap. I had a letter only three days ago and my uncle was perfectly well then.’

‘In that case you are wise to think twice. How sensible you are, Miss Hardcastle. Most young women would have gone rushing off in a panic.’

‘I believe that is what I was meant to do. If you will forgive me, I shall write a letter and ask one of the footmen to send it for me.’

‘Write your letter. We’ll send a groom with
it to discover the truth—unless you wish to go yourself. I could send an armed escort with you.’

Sarah thought for a moment and then shook her head. ‘Thank you, sir, but I believe this is a trap. My enemy wishes to draw me out because I have stayed close to the house. I shall write and if a groom could deliver it and bring back a message I should be grateful.’

‘Write your letter, m’dear, and I’ll see to the rest. We don’t want some rogue shooting at you again, do we?’

She thanked him, took her leave and went up to her room to write the letter. Her instincts were telling her that the letter was false and that meant she was still in danger from whoever hated her.

Sarah’s letter had been sent and she’d asked the marquess if it might remain their secret, as she did not wish for anything to overshadow Francesca’s happiness. Sir Freddie had given his love a ring, but for the moment she was wearing it on chain beneath her gown. Their engagement would not be announced just yet, even though they were to pay a visit to Sir Freddie’s mother in the near future.

Sarah had not allowed her suspicions to cloud her pleasure in the company and walked in the gardens, but always in the company of
her friends. Sometimes Rupert, Francesca, Sir Freddie and John, together with the dancing master, made up the little group, and on occasion the marquess joined them for refreshments outdoors.

Sarah noticed that there was usually a gardener hanging about when they spent time walking amongst the roses and various flowerbeds. The weather kept fine obligingly and they played croquet on the lawns, drank tea in the shade of some fine trees and walked, enjoying each other’s conversation. Each day followed the last in a haze of perfect contentment and Sarah’s feeling of alarm began to fade. Rupert was always pleasant to her, always considerate, and sometimes the look in his eyes sent her pulses haywire, but he had said nothing further to make her think that he was marrying her for any other reason than convenience.

She was determined that he should not guess she felt more than he did and her smiles for him were no more intimate than for anyone else. If he wished for a comfortable wife, it was what she would be, undemanding and good-tempered.

She’d told Rupert of her letter and her belief that it was a ruse to trap her into leaving the safety of his protection.

‘You must remain here,’ he had told her
sternly. ‘Your uncle will write to you if it is necessary—though if you are anxious I could escort you.’

Sarah had shaken her head. ‘I do not think my uncle would have sent such a letter. I am content to wait until we hear from him.’

She was returning with her friends from one of their outings some days later when a coach drew up at the front of the house. As she watched, the door opened and a man got out. Surprise and pleasure made her start forwards with a glad cry.

‘Uncle William! What are you doing here?’

He turned to look at her with a frown. ‘I wanted to make sure these people were treating you properly. Were you mad to run off like that, Sarah? What in heaven’s name made you change places with a governess?’

‘It was just a whim, Uncle. I am so glad to see you are not at death’s door.’

‘I dare say that was that rogue who wheedled your mother’s story out of me,’ her uncle said. ‘I’m sorry for telling him, girl. He has a smooth tongue and I trusted him, thought he cared for you. From what Lord Myers told me in his letter, Sir Roger is a sly snake and not to be trusted.’

‘Rupert wrote to you?’ Sarah glanced at Rupert, for he’d said nothing to her. He was
laughing with Sir Freddie and did not notice her glance.

‘It’s the reason I came,’ her uncle replied. He looked about him, seeing the little group of curious onlookers. ‘Sorry to turn up out of the blue, but I wanted to tell you the whole truth. I gather that serpent twisted the story into something ugly.’

‘Wasn’t it?’

‘Far from it. Can we talk in private?’

‘I must introduce you to the others, then we’ll go to the back parlour. I am very pleased you have come, Uncle, though a letter would have been sufficient.’

‘I thought I should apologise in person. It may be because of me that all this unpleasantness has happened.’

Sarah took his arm and led him towards her friends. She watched as he shook hands with Rupert, greeting him as a friend, and then introduced him to her friends.

‘You must come in, Uncle. We are about to have tea.’

‘This is a bit above my touch, girl. I was never one for mixing in society, you know—at least, not on this level.’

‘Everyone is very friendly. I am sure the marquess will say you must stay for a day or two.’

‘I couldn’t do that, Sarah. I know my place
and it isn’t here. I’ll take myself off to the inn, though I’ll call on you again tomorrow. You may have been brought up to be a lady, but I came from the lower ranks, as your father did. It was because of your mother that he had you educated as a lady.’

Sarah nodded, because she already knew what had been in her father’s mind. Francesca said she would have some refreshments sent into the back parlour so they could be private and Sarah took her uncle there.

‘Please sit down, sir.’

‘I’ll stand, if you don’t mind.’ He looked at her awkwardly. ‘Is it right that you’re to marry Lord Myers?’

‘Yes, Uncle. He asked me and I said yes.’

‘I suppose you know what you’re doing—not always a good idea to mix the classes, but if it makes you happy …’

‘It does. Why did you come all this way?’

‘You’ve been told you were not the child of your father’s wife?’

‘Yes, I have. Was it a lie?’

‘Your mama couldn’t have children. She tried, but it almost killed her and your father wouldn’t let her go through it again—but they both wanted a child.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Your father asked her permission to have an affair with a view to
getting himself an heir. It cost her pain, but she gave it …’ He paused and Sarah frowned.

‘So that much is true?’

‘Yes, Sarah. Your father chose a respectable widow who lived in poverty with one child. He gave her money and a house and she promised to give you up when you were born, but … and this is the part that hurts … when the time came she wept and clung to you and he had to force you from her arms.’

Sarah gave a little cry of stress. ‘Oh, but that was cruel.’

‘What was he to do? Your mama longed for a child and you were his. He loved his wife beyond reason and so he took you and gave you to your mama. He adopted you legally and made you his heir. Your mama never knew that he had forced your mother to give you up.’

‘I see …’ Sarah’s eyes felt wet with tears. ‘It is such a sad story. Is it true that my mother came looking for me when she was dying?’

‘She came once to ask if she might see you, but your father refused. He thought she might try to steal you from him. He sent her away and he heard later that she had died of consumption.’

‘Why didn’t he tell me?’

‘I think he thought you might despise him for
what he did. He wasn’t a bad man, Sarah—he simply loved your mama too much.’

‘Yes, I see that.’ Sarah blew her nose on a lace handkerchief. ‘Thank you for telling me. It is easier to accept than the story Sir Roger told me—though the truth remains. I was not born in wedlock and my mother was not a lady.’

‘Oh, but she was, Sarah, the equal of your mother—and her husband was also a gentleman, but a terrible gambler. He left her with nothing when he died.’

‘I see … How terrible that must have been for his wife. I think I understand why she agreed to the bargain.’