Passionate Secrets (The Secrets Trilogy Book 2) (6 page)

“Oh dear. It sounds as if she’s in rather desperate circumstances.”

“Indeed.”

“But she’s willing to entertain this idea rather than find another governess post?”

“That remains to be seen.” It occurred to him that it would be far easier to simply give Emma money but he knew she’d never accept that. It wasn’t an option if there was any chance her uncle lived and could take the money. Instead, he’d have to concoct some excuse to make this whole scheme sound logical and appealing. How on earth was he to manage that?

“I’ll leave her in your capable hands.” She sipped her tea. “I assume she’s intelligent if she’s held the position of governess.”

“Knowing her uncle, yes. From my brief conversation with her, she seemed so.” He finished a biscuit in one bite and helped himself to another. “I realize this is a lot to ask of you.”

“We shall see if she’s worthy of the time and effort required, not to mention the cost.” His grandmother continued to study him as though he were an oddity at a museum.

“I’ll take care of that part. It’s your time I’m worried about. If you’re willing to consider this, I’ll make arrangements to introduce her to you.” He just had to determine how to make that happen.

~*~

Emma scanned the advertisements in the paper, hoping to find a suitable position for which to apply. She’d spent the morning at Dr. Barnes’ office, assisting him with his notes and intended to return on the morrow to finish up the project. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t need her for much more than that.

“Anything?” Tessa asked from where she sat propped up against the pillows on the bed. She seemed to feel better today although she was still far too pale to suit Emma.

“Still looking,” Emma replied, her finger skimming along the lines of newsprint.

“Read them to me,” Tessa demanded. She rarely had the energy to read herself but enjoyed hearing news of the outside world.

“Hmm... What do you think of this one? ‘Wanted, a superior resident governess to twin boys and a little girl in South Wales’.”

“That would never do. It’s too far away. We’d never see you.”

“True.” Nor did it pay enough to make the distance worthwhile. “Here’s another: ‘Wanted, a thoroughly respectable governess for a family of six young children. Must be experienced, really fond of children, and a good needlewoman’.”

“How could you possibly have time for needlework with six children to look after?” Tessa dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “The parents would expect you to fill every spare moment with work.”

Emma sighed. “You’re probably right. What of this one? ‘Wanted, a superior young lady experienced in the management of children, able to teach them, attend to toilettes and wardrobes and assist with domestic duties. Some knowledge of cooking desirable. Good health and energetic disposition essential’.”

Silence greeted her words. She looked up to find Tessa staring at her in disbelief.

“You’re joking,” she accused.

Emma frowned and looked back at the advertisement. “It seems a legitimate situation.”

“You’d be nanny, maid, governess, and cook. Of course you’d need an energetic disposition. It makes me tired listening to the list of duties. That’s ridiculous.” Tessa drew a shallow breath, the slight rattle in her chest worrying Emma, but she knew better than to voice it.

“Tessa, I can’t be too selective,” Emma reminded her sister. “I must find a post immediately.”

“No. I refuse to see you miserable again. You must find one you’d enjoy,” Tessa insisted. “Do you realize how many hours each day you’re there?”

“Of course I do. But it’s called ‘work’ for a reason.” Emma bit her lip and told herself to calm down. Just because she was frustrated at the lack of positions noted in the newssheet gave her no reason to take it out on Tessa. The poor dear had no idea what it was like to work in a stranger’s home. To be at the beck and call of demanding employers.

While teaching children was a task Emma enjoyed, the position of governess was awkward at best. She wasn’t part of the family, yet she wasn’t considered a servant, at least not by the other servants. In truth it was a lonely position as she didn’t fit in with any of the other residents of the house.

Tessa’s shoulders wilted. “This is all my fault. If I weren’t sick, I could work too.”

“No, you must never think that.” Emma reached out and squeezed her sister’s hand. “I’m happy to work. I’d be working even if you were healthier.”

Tessa watched her for a long moment. “That may be true, but I am well aware of the extra burden my illness puts on you and everyone in the family.”

“Tessa,” Emma said, a lump forming in her throat. “You’re never a burden. You must know I’d do anything for you.”

“I’m tired of not being able to help.” Her big brown eyes welled with tears. “I can’t even help Mother clean. I feel so worthless. Even Patrick does more than I.”

Emma could only imagine how difficult it must be to remain in bed, never feeling useful. Everyone needed a purpose in life. Even a sick, young girl. “You’re helping me now.”

The look Tessa gave her clearly stated her opinion on that. “Perhaps I could try mending again.” She pushed herself higher up against the pillows. “I feel a bit better today. I think I could manage a piece or two.”

Emma examined her closely. She did seem better today, thanks to the pastilles the doctor had given her. Yet any extra activity could exhaust her, causing another setback.

The doctor had also advised them not to worry her. Stress of any sort could worsen her condition. Emma was torn between wanting her to rest and allowing her to feel like she was contributing to the family. What an impossible choice when either could end badly.

“If you’re certain you feel up to it?”

Tessa nodded, determination in the set of her mouth.

Emma heard a key in the door then Patrick greeted their mother.

Her little brother grew taller and lankier each month. She mightn’t have noticed except for the shortness of his knee breeches. He shared the same brown eyes as she and Tessa, the same cheerful disposition as their mother.

He strolled into the bedroom. “Watcha lookin’ fer?”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “If you’d like to phrase that question in proper English, you’d receive an answer.”

He rolled his eyes. “No point in puttin’ on airs. Won’t take me nowhere.”

“Patrick Leon Grisby.” Their mother’s stern tone from the other room brooked no argument.

“Yes, ma’am.” He scowled at Emma. “What are you looking for?” he asked again, enunciating each word with care.

“A new home to let,” Tessa answered.

“Truly?” His eyes went wide at the thought.

“No, of course not, silly. We’re trying to find a position for Emma.”

Emma shook her head. Tessa might be ill, but she never missed an opportunity to tease her brother.

Patrick scowled at Tessa before returning to their mother’s side. “Is there anything to eat, Mother?”

Before their mother had a chance to answer, a knock sounded at the door.

Emma shared a worried look with Tessa then rose to join her mother at the door. Dr. Barnes wouldn’t arrive until early evening. The only other person to pay a visit of late was the landlord, demanding rent. Surely he wasn’t here to try to collect again.

Her mother wiped her hands on a rag then squared her shoulders. She put a polite smile on her face and opened the door with Emma directly behind her.

A footman, attired in a deep blue uniform with yellow trim, bowed and said, “A message for Miss Emma Grisby.”

Unease trickled down Emma’s spine. “I’m Emma Grisby.”

“Good day, miss. Viscount Weston requests a meeting with you.”

“Oh?” A tiny flicker of hope flamed to life deep inside her. She hadn’t thought he’d remember his offer to inquire among his friends for a governess post. Perhaps she needed to reconsider her opinion of him. Mayhap he wasn’t the cold-hearted lord she’d envisioned.

Her mother gave her a questioning look.

“He mentioned he’d ask his acquaintances if they knew of anyone with a possible position. Perhaps he’s found someone,” Emma offered.

“Oh, that’s so kind of him.” Her mother’s brown eyes warmed.

“That remains to be seen,” Emma felt obligated to caution her.

“Now, dear,” her mother started.

Emma patted her hand to ward off what she knew was coming next. Her mother insisted Emma should hold a more optimistic view of life, yet how could she with everything that had happened? How many times had a man disappointed them? Her father, her uncle, even Viscount Weston, not to mention a few of her employers. All had made promises they’d failed to keep. Emma had learned the only person she could trust was herself.

“I’ll hear what he has to say,” she told her mother. That was as much as she could offer.

“If you’re ready, miss, Viscount Weston would like to speak with you now. I’m to bring you in the carriage,” the young footman informed her.

She glanced down at her gown. “I’ll need a few minutes to prepare.”

“You look fine,” her mother said.

“But I’m not dressed appropriately,” Emma said, hoping her mother understood that she needed to change into her governess attire, including the binding around her middle and the ash on her skin and hair.

Emma didn’t miss her mother’s frown of displeasure as she turned to the footman. “Would you prefer to wait or return later?”

“I’ll wait with the carriage, if it’s all right with you, miss.” He bowed again and moved down the hall.

“I’m going to see the horses,” Patrick said with a smile and hurried after him.

“Stay out of the way, Patrick,” Emma called out.

“Who was it?” Tessa called out from the bedroom as soon as the door closed. The girl had ears like a rabbit.

Emma hurried into the bedroom to change and update Tessa, anxious to hear what the viscount had to say. Dare she hope he might truly care enough to aid her?

Michael rose as Emma entered his study. He’d considered holding this meeting in the drawing room and offering her tea but decided that would set the wrong tone. If they managed to come to an agreement, it would be a business transaction. Nothing more. No need to bring social niceties into it.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted her, surprised at the pleasure he felt at her arrival.

She curtsied with no smile in sight. “You wished to see me?”

He frowned. They would definitely have to work on her social skills if she wanted to attempt to catch a husband.

“Yes. Please take a seat.” He gestured to the chair in front of his desk before taking his own.

She wore the same gown as the previous two times he’d seen her. He recognized it from the mended spot on the cuff. He’d be pleased when she was properly attired and he’d seen the last of the drab grey garment. If he could convince her to accept his plan, that was. He couldn’t help but study her critically, wondering if it was even possible to find a man who’d take interest in her.

“Has no one told you it’s rude to stare?” An arched brow became visible over the frame of her glasses.

He tapped a finger on the polished surface of his desk, annoyed that he’d managed to irritate her already. That was no way to gain what he wanted. He’d best remember the purpose of this endeavor—to keep watch over her. His intent was to hold a friendly meeting, but if she didn’t agree to his terms he was prepared to use leverage to gain her cooperation. Markus, one of the runners, had found out that Emma’s sister was ill. Though he didn’t yet know the details, surely paying for medical care was of concern.

One of the other runners who’d followed her yesterday had reported that she’d made a visit to a home on Villiers Street and come away with a package in her hand. Another runner was watching that house now to see if it might have anything to do with Professor Grisby.

“I have a business proposition for you.”

“A governess post?” The hopeful note in her voice brought forth his guilt, but he reminded himself he was trying to help her as well as observe her activities.

He leaned back in his chair, still unsure how to best suggest Ashbury’s plan. “I did mention your need for a position to a few friends of mine but to no avail. Unfortunately, few of my acquaintances are in need of governesses.” That much was true. “However, I can’t help but wonder if that would truly solve your problems.”

Her back stiffened. “What problems?”

Really? She’d pretend she had no financial woes? Is that how she made it through each day, by pretending all was well?

“It appears your family is in need of funds,” he said, keeping his tone gentle.

“As are many families these days. What is your point?”

“An ordinary governess post would provide only a modest income at best.”

“Do you think I’m unaware of the wages I would earn as a governess? I’d remind you that I’ve held the position for many years. Why do you think I was so interested in the post with your cousin? That’s the sort I need and exactly what I’m qualified for.”

Her confidence was admirable, he’d give her that much, but it was time for the cold, hard truth.

“How many of those quality positions have you applied for?”

Her jaw tightened. “What business is that of yours?”

“I’m not criticizing you. I’m trying to help.”

“By questioning my method of finding a post?”

He stifled a sigh of frustration. Lord, but the woman was prickly. “Allow me to state this more clearly. I can’t help but wonder whether finding a governess post will be sufficient for your financial needs. There aren’t many out there that would pay well enough to truly make a difference.”

“What else would you have me to do? Positions for women are rather limited.”

He paused a moment before deciding it would be best to be blunt. “Find a husband.”

Silence greeted his statement. He could see shock ripple through her at his words. Obviously, she’d never considered the notion.

“How could a husband take the place of a well paying job?” Emma stared at Viscount Weston, wondering if the man was mentally unstable. He made no sense.

“The right husband could provide for you and your family.”

Emma rose as anger filled her. The viscount had no idea of what he spoke. She’d had enough of this conversation. “The way my father did? The way my uncle did? Men are not the answer to our problems.” She was tempted to add him to her list. Hadn’t he abandoned them as well?

He held up his hand. “Please, hear me out.”

The only concession she gave was not to walk out the door. She remained standing, trembling with anger and hurt. That small flicker of hope she’d held had extinguished. How stupid and naïve of her to think the viscount could assist her in any way.

“I’m not speaking of some clerk at a warehouse as a husband. I’m suggesting a wealthy one, perhaps even a lord or at the very least, a wealthy merchant.”

“Oh, certainly,” she said. Could he be any more insulting? How dare he make fun of her situation. “They’re lined up outside my door. I need only pick one.”

A spark of anger lit his blue eyes. He rose and moved around his desk to stand before her. It was all she could do not to step back. “If you’d listen for a moment, perhaps I could explain in full what I’m suggesting.”

Her mouth went dry as she held his gaze, reminding her that she didn’t know this man at all. She couldn’t have spoken if she’d wanted to, not with him so close. The scent of his cologne swirled through her, muddling her thoughts. Her gaze caught on his chin, the strong length of his jaw, the sculpted lines of his lips. She forced herself to look up into his eyes but that riveting blue sucked the breath from her lungs.

“No ordinary man would do,” he said.

No, she thought. He wouldn’t. However, a man like Michael— She stopped the thought before it could take hold. The idea of marrying hadn’t crossed her mind. The hopes and dreams she’d held as a young girl had long since passed. Placing the welfare of her entire family in the hands of a man held no interest for her.

“Marriage is a business arrangement for many people,” he continued.

She scoffed. “How would I meet this extraordinary man who’d consider marrying me? I have no dowry, no title.”

“I’d like to introduce you to my grandmother, Viscountess Weston. If you’re both in agreement, she’d assist in launching you into society.”

Fear speared through Emma at the images that created. Of her standing against a wall in her plain governess attire while beautiful people danced around her. Of, once again, watching, but not belonging.

“No, thank you,” she blurted out, unable to bear the idea of enduring such a thing.

Silence greeted her refusal until at last she made herself meet his gaze. But rather than the pity she’d feared to see there, only understanding was visible.

“Marriage to the right man would solve many of your problems. It could provide you with security for your future.”

“No.” She backed up a step only to bump into the chair she’d recently vacated. Remaining standing seemed impossible so she dropped into it.

He narrowed his eyes, looking at her curiously. “Why?”

“What I need is a position. A husband is of no help to me.”

“I disagree.”

“How would you know? You’ve never had a husband, nor do you know anything about what my family needs.”

He folded his arms over his chest as he propped a hip against the desk. “Do you refer to the overdue rent? Or perhaps to the money owed to the doctor?”

Outrage made Emma’s hands shake and her heart pound. She allowed that to push back her embarrassment. “Have you been spying on us?”

“What of your sister? Is she recovering from her illness?”

Emma stood again, anger lending her strength. “How dare you!” She leaned forward to put her face in his, wanting to grab the lapels of his jacket and shake him. “Who do you think you are?”

He leaned forward as well until his nose was a mere breath from hers. “I believe I’m the one person trying to help you.”

“By spying on us?”

He unfolded his arms, and she startled when she felt his finger trail on the underside of her chin. His touch unsettled her nearly as much as what he’d done. “I want to help you,” he whispered.

She did her best to ignore his touch. “Why?”

His finger stilled at her simple question. “Does it matter?”

She jerked back. Wasn’t that what she’d told herself the first time she’d come here? That it didn’t matter? Then why did it? Because this man mattered. She couldn’t say why, but Michael mattered far more than she should’ve allowed him to.

Michael stared at Emma, realizing he couldn’t answer her question. He wasn’t completely sure why he was helping her. Of course it was because he needed to keep an eye on her to see if Professor Grisby contacted her. But there was more to it than that. What exactly, he couldn’t say. Perhaps it was their shared past. Perhaps it was because he felt sorry for her. Yet none of that seemed quite true.

Something in the golden depths of her brown eyes pulled at him. When he was this close to her—

He drew back, unwilling to complete that thought. This was a business arrangement and his job was to gain her agreement to the plan. If that required him to create a reason she’d believe, so be it.

As Ashbury had pointed out, discovering any sign of Professor Grisby would be much easier if they had his niece under close surveillance. The rest of her family had proven fairly easy to watch as they moved about very little. If Michael had to guess, the professor would contact Emma rather than her other family members. She’d been their anchor since Michael had first met them.

“I’d merely like to help an old friend.” When she looked unconvinced, he added, “You and your family need assistance and I am in the position to do so. It’s not so different than when your uncle was kind enough to aid me.”

That excuse seemed to take hold. The crease in her brow eased but then returned before he could draw a breath of relief.

“I don’t see how this could possibly work. I don’t even want a husband.”

“Financial security for the rest of your life seems a fair trade for you to serve as companion for a man of your choosing.”

“My choosing?” Her shock would’ve been amusing under other circumstances.

“Of course. You don’t think I’d select him, do you? That’s up to you.”

“What if I don’t...find a man who I think is appropriate?”

“You can leave at any time and return to your search for a governess post.” Within a few weeks, he and Ashbury should’ve determined whether her uncle lived and if so, what he was doing. After that, she could return to her life and continue serving as a governess as far as he was concerned. This was a temporary business arrangement. No matter that a tightness filled his chest at the thought of her walking away.

Her gaze flitted around the room, much like a butterfly that couldn’t decide where to land. “I would have nothing to wear.”

He couldn’t help but smile for he hadn’t expected to hear such a normal female complaint pass her lips. “My grandmother will assist you in selecting the proper attire, and I’ll see to the cost.”

“No. I couldn’t possibly accept such generosity.” Her lips formed into the stubborn line with which he was becoming annoyingly familiar. “I have no way to repay it.”

An idea took hold, one he felt certain would end her argument and give him what he wanted as well. “I offer you a trade. My grandmother is quite lonely and in need of companionship as well as a project. Assisting you in this endeavor would solve both of those issues.”

He could see that she weighed the validity of his comments, and he pushed harder. “Having an intelligent, educated person spend time with my grandmother would bring her much joy and bring me peace of mind. I couldn’t put a price on that.”

She shook her head, but he could see that she seriously considered his idea. Her aura remained clear, however, giving him no hint as to her intent. “I would have to think on it further.”

Michael waited a few moments before offering a few more details, hoping to make her more comfortable. He believed in full disclosure in his business dealings, at least when it benefited him. “It would be more convenient if you stayed with my grandmother. In addition to assisting you in selecting the appropriate gowns and necessities, she has connections with those in the
ton
who host balls and other events. She could garner the proper invitations for you.”

She bit the fullness of her bottom lip. The gesture woke an awareness inside him that he didn’t welcome.

“As I said, I need to think about it and consider what’s best for my family.”

“Of course.” He didn’t want her to think about it too long. He needed her somewhere he could watch her as quickly as possible. “May I suggest you meet my grandmother on the morrow to aid you in your decision?”

She blinked as though surprised but nodded, giving him a small victory. However, he had a feeling the battle was far from over.

~*~