Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage 05] (6 page)

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Authors: The Governess Wears Scarlet

BOOK: Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage 05]
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S
ounds of the creatures of the night reverberated through the moonlit park as Steele led the mystifying Miss West down the pebbled lane. The woman was a conundrum, a shrinking mouse one moment and a fiery goddess the next. He realized he longed to unlock the puzzle she presented and reveal the secrets inside.

Inhaling the rich scent of pine traveling on the evening breeze, Steele recalled Sir Lee’s words,
Not the kind of woman to run from the kitchen when things get hot.
Based on how she’d handled Carlton, she seemed to be one to rush inside and put out the flames. Still, she’d cowered before Benbrook, shrinking into herself like a snail.

And what was the story with Lord Byrnwyck’s son Phineas?

Peering sideways at the lady, he noticed once more how pretty she was when she wasn’t trying to be a schoolmarm. Her profile was particularly pleasing to the eye, with her slightly upturned nose, pronounced cheekbones, and bowed lips. Had something truly transpired between her and Phineas Byrnwyck?
Phineas was a lanky young man, Steele recalled, with blond curling locks, pale blue eyes, and milky white skin that any debutante would envy. Impartially, Steele could see that he might be appealing in a Byronesque sort of way. Had Miss West fallen for the young greenhorn? An unfamiliar feeling twisted in his gut, but he ignored it and forced himself to focus on the lady beside him.

Steele shortened his stride to match her smaller tread, and again was amazed at how she’d managed to fell Carlton, a much larger man. “Where did you learn that move that you used on Carlton?”

“You won’t believe me if I told you.” Her voice had a breathy quality to it that at first he’d labeled as trepidation. Now he knew it to be more of a reluctance to speak.
As if words might somehow betray her
, he thought.

As a barrister, Steele had learned to listen for those hidden meanings beneath people’s words, and he never dismissed the idle thoughts that whispered in his mind.
As if words might betray her.

He wondered what it would take for her to open up and speak freely. Somehow he suspected that she might have some very interesting things to say; thus far she’d been a constant surprise. “Try me. I believe I can maintain an open mind.”

The moonlight blanketed the trees, giving some sense that they were alone in the world.

“Very well. I learned it from a book.”

He felt his brows rise. “A book taught you how to bring a man to his knees?”

Miss West nodded.

“I must read this volume,” Steele murmured, fascinated. “Where can I find it?”

“At Andersen Hall Orphanage, in Headmaster Dunn’s library.” Turning slightly away so that her features were masked by darkness, she murmured, “I went to live there after my parents passed.”

“I serve on the board of trustees at Andersen Hall.”

She looked up. “You do?”

“Yes. Even though I’m new to the board, I am very impressed with how the institution is managed and the progressive principles upon which it’s founded.”

“Andersen Hall reflects the man who shaped it. Headmaster Dunn was brilliant and caring and loved all the children as if they were his own…” Her voice caught.

Steele had to resist the urge to squeeze the small hand resting on his arm. “I’m so sorry for his loss. His death must have been a terrible blow for you.”

She nodded. “Headmaster Dunn was…very dear to me.”

“He was a good man. Principled. Much more so than many of the men I’ve encountered. And canny. Very canny.” Steele’s lips almost lifted as he recalled his first encounter with Uriah Dunn and how handily the man had manipulated him. He remembered this meeting without rancor. Yet it was the compromise Steele had made with Uriah Dunn that allowed Sir Lee to blackmail him into helping Benbrook. Sir Lee was one of three people in the
world who knew that Steele had knowingly allowed the Thief of Robinson Square to escape justice. If anyone learned that secret, Steele’s reputation would be in tatters.

Steele exhaled. “Headmaster Dunn had a way of making one see things his way, without being a bully about it. I wish I had that gift.”

Miss West peered up at him. “Why? So you can convince Carlton that he likes children? I don’t believe that even Headmaster Dunn would be able to do that. Mrs. Pitts, on the other hand, seems quite biddable.”

Sir Lee had been right; she was perceptive. Then it hit him: She’d quite neatly deflected him from the subject of Headmaster Dunn and her grief. She seemed unwilling to allow anyone to breach the mighty walls that surrounded her heart. If he managed it, he wondered what he’d find. He filed away that notion for later consideration.

“Pray tell me the name of this book,” he asked.

“It’s called
Defensive Arts of the Eastern Civilizations
, by J. Imperatori. It’s filled with defensive exercises.”

“They must be very good exercises.”

“Only if one remembers to use them,” she muttered under her breath. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ve forgotten more than I’ve learned.”

“When you grabbed Carlton, you weren’t thinking. You acted instinctively. Often it’s that way with certain moves; you can’t overthink.”

She stared up at him, wide-eyed and curious.

He added quickly, “Or so I’ve heard from some of the Bow Street Runners.” He changed the topic.
“Did you simply happen upon this book or did you seek it out?”

Peering up at him from the corner of her eye, she replied, “That’s a very astute question. You must be a very good barrister. Do you like it?”

She was trying to deflect him once again. Very interesting. But he wasn’t an Officer of the Crown for nothing. “Were you being bullied? Is that why you sought out the book?”

Looking away, she stared off into the darkness. “It was a long time ago, I can hardly remember.”

“How old were you when you went to Andersen Hall?”

“Thirteen.”

Steele scratched his chin. “I wonder that Headmaster Dunn didn’t do a better job of protecting his charges.”

Her head whipped around. “Headmaster Dunn couldn’t be everywhere at every turn. He did the best anyone could have ever done under the circumstances. No, he did better!”

“So you took it upon yourself to stop the harassment.”

She gritted her teeth as if admitting to anything went against the grain. “Are all barristers this curious?”

His lips lifted into a smile. “No, I seem to be one of the more inquiring variety.” Especially as it pertained to Miss West.

“For the record, Headmaster Dunn ran the orphanage better than any navy ship.”

“I know. He was a singular character in every way.”

That seemed to mollify her. “Exactly so. I owe him a great deal and count my lucky stars to have landed at Andersen Hall.”

“So if you didn’t worry over yourself, you sought out the book to protect someone else.”

She missed a step, and he slipped his arm around her tiny waist to keep her from falling. He caught a whiff of her clean, heathery scent, far more pleasant than the cloying, flowery perfumes most ladies of fashion wore. Still, this young miss was as mannerly as any of them. Again he realized that it was only a quirk of fate as to who was a penniless orphan and who a titled heiress.

Swallowing, she straightened and stepped away, as if uncomfortable with his touch. “Uh, thank you, I’m fine.”

Tilting his head, he removed his arm and they continued walking side by side.

Miss West offered, “Some people…some people can handle more than others.”

“And you were helping someone who wasn’t quite as…resilient.”

“Yes.” The word was offered grudgingly, as if she were uncomfortable laying claim to this remarkable conduct.

Staring up at the star-speckled night, Steele realized that Miss West had a sense of justice that paralleled his. She’d seen someone being unduly harassed, saw that no one was doing anything to stop it, and took matters into her own hands. “I’m impressed.” Steele scratched his chin. “I imagine the bully had to be a good bit older than you and likely a few stone heavier
as well. I’ll bet when he crossed you, he didn’t know what hit him!”

Her brow furrowed. “How do you know so much?”

“It’s my job to try to read between the lines. Although, I confess, I haven’t been very good at it of late.” His heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t admitted that to anyone!

He swallowed as the terrible fear of the politically astute pricked at his heart. No one in office confessed to failure. Not in his world. It was political and social suicide.

He forced himself to consider the ramifications. Miss West was a governess—and one with a frayed shawl, scrappy shoes, and spotty references, no less. He comforted himself with the thought that there was little harm to be wrought. Still, he never should’ve spoken so freely.

What’s wrong with me these days?
he wondered. Heath Bartlett’s betrayal had shaken him, that was true, but he’d begun making mistakes long before then. And he was taking chances and accepting tasks that no man in his right mind would undertake. He’d taken in two young lads he had hardly even known existed before last week and had accepted guardianship of their lives. Additionally, he was assisting Lord Benbrook, a man who’d never wanted to be his relation and who had wrought turmoil in his life from the very moment they’d met.

Objectively, Steele accepted that the reemergence of his recalcitrant father-in-law in his life had raised thorny emotions better off unfelt. And that it was his
love for Deidre and sense of duty to her memory and to her nephews that had inspired his actions. That, and Sir Lee Devane’s blackmail, of course.

He shook his head, realizing that he was under strain from Benbrook, the lads, the investigation, and his recent failings at work. He wasn’t operating at his best and needed to dig his way out of the rut he was in.

And crafting fantasies about pretty young governesses wasn’t going to help him one bit.

He needed to gain Miss West’s trust, get her to agree to work for him, and get on with his investigation. He had enough to do to unearth the truth behind Benbrook’s claims and stop a killer on the loose. There was no room in his life for anything else, particularly not for pesky emotions and moonlight confessions.

Nodding, Steele exhaled, feeling more in command now that he had his priorities in order.

Miss West bit her lip. “Headmaster Dunn called blunders ‘opportunities’ and taught us that it is only through mistakes that we learn.”

Her lack of censure reassured him even more, but he felt the need to add, “I can’t afford to make mistakes. Not in my position.”

“What is a solicitor-general?”

Feeling on safe ground, he replied, “I represent the Crown on legal matters. In the courts, I provide legal advice, questions involving public welfare. I’m consulted for legal matters involving debts to the Crown, thefts from the Crown…and the like.”

“So you wouldn’t handle the petty things…like ordinary pilfering or disorderly conduct and such?”

“Not usually, no.”

Nodding, she seemed to relax.

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I’m simply trying to understand.”

They had just reached the corner nearing his house. Feeling an urgency to settle matters, he stopped and faced her. “So what do I have to do to convince you to come work for me, Miss West?”

She bit her bottom lip. “Why do you want me to sleep in the mistress’s chambers?”

“Truth be told…” Steele mentally kicked himself, for he never trusted a word someone said when he prefaced a comment with “truth be told.” He was going to have to learn to lie better to maintain the façade. “The fact of the matter is that the upstairs is under construction.”

“Oh.”

He couldn’t tell if that was an “Oh, I believe you,” or an “Oh, that doesn’t seem quite plausible.” The light from the adjacent house glowed on her fair hair and washed her pale face in a golden radiance. Still, he could not read her features and realized that this lady had learned to hide her feelings well.

Steele added, “As I said before, I didn’t expect the children.” That much was true. “And so when I purchased the house I paid little attention to the nurseries. Regrettably, they are in disrepair, and I’m taking steps to remedy that situation. In the interim, I would like you and the lads to take advantage of the unused rooms on my floor, and that happens to include the mistress’s chambers.”

“If I may ask, how did you come to be the
guardian of Seth and Felix? Lord Benbrook seems quite…attached.”

“That’s a very polite way of saying officious and demanding.”

He was pleased to see her lips lift into a little smile. “I did not say that, so don’t ever try to quote me.”

“Lord Benbrook is attached to the boys, certainly. They are his grandchildren.”

“Then why is he giving you guardianship?”

Steele considered his options and decided on a variation of the truth. “Lord Benbrook is my father-in-law. I was married to his daughter.” They were only words, he told himself, as he pushed away the familiar grief.

“Was?”

“She died.”

“I’m so sorry.” Her luminous eyes were filled with compassion.

“Thank you. It was a long time ago.”

“My parents died a long time ago, but that doesn’t diminish the loss or the fact that I miss them still.”

Surprisingly, her empathy somehow allowed him both to feel the pain, but not to experience its ache quite as acutely. “Yes, well, I’m the only family that Benbrook trusts with the safety of his grandchildren, and he fears that he’s…not long for this world.”

Raising her hand to her mouth, Miss West cried, “Those poor boys! First their parents and now this!”

Steele felt a tad guilty about working on Miss West’s sympathies, but he would do whatever neces
sary to get the job done. “Yes, well, Felix and Seth are certainly in need of kindness. And you leaving right now…”

Abigail swallowed as a fresh wave of mortification swept over her. “I suppose this whole misunderstanding is really my fault.” Her cheeks warmed, and she couldn’t meet Lord Steele’s eyes. “I jumped to some very unfair conclusions about you…I mean, you wishing to be with me…how absurd!”

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