The Baron's Governess Bride (18 page)

BOOK: The Baron's Governess Bride
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“Miss Ellerby.”

“Sir.” She dropped a furtive curtsy and refused to look up at him.

“I thought I saw a carriage stop here and the occupants speak to you.”

“Yes, sir.” The governess clenched her lips in a thin, stubborn line, as if she feared he might try to pull her teeth out.

“I thought it odd that this carriage did not continue on to the house. Can you offer an explanation?”

She swallowed visibly. “The people only stopped for a moment, sir. They were on their way to London. I did not want them to disturb you after your late night out.”

“How do you know I was out late?” The question came out sharper than he intended.

It made Miss Ellerby start. “I just assumed, sir. Since you were away to a ball…”

“As a matter of fact I
was
out late,” Rupert admitted. And he had not slept well once he reached home. Was that what made him so gruff and suspicious this morning? “But I am wide awake now. Tell me, were the people in that carriage acquaintances of mine? Of yours?”

She drew a deep breath. “Of mine—yes. The lady is an old friend from my school days, recently married. She and her husband stopped by on their way to London.”

Rupert glanced toward his daughters, who had been staring at them but now returned to their sketching with fierce concentration. “Girls, why don’t you take your sketch boxes back to the nursery? Then I will take you for a punt on the river.”

“Yes, Papa,” they chorused but without the enthusiasm Rupert had expected.

They packed up their drawing materials with lightning speed then headed for the house.

Their governess tried to follow, but he stepped into her path. “A moment if you please, Miss Ellerby. I sent the girls on ahead because I wanted a private word with you.”

“What about, sir?”

“About the people in the carriage, of course!” he snapped, vexed with her for pretending she didn’t know. “If they were friends of yours, why did you not invite them in for a visit?”

She continued to keep her gaze lowered. “Because it is not my house, sir.”

Her answer took him aback. The house might not
belong
to her, but he liked to think it was her home now. “I am dismayed by your assumption that I would not allow you to receive guests at Nethercross.”

“I’m sorry, sir. But it is not usually permitted.”

“So you sent them on their way just like that—a friend you have not seen in how many years?”

She hesitated. “Nine, sir.”

“I’m afraid I don’t believe you.” Rupert hoped that might shock the truth out of her. “I see no reason for you to be so evasive about an old friend paying a call. Admit it—you are seeking a new position with another family!”

The possibility made him feel betrayed and strangely…jealous? No—that was ridiculous! It must be some residual feeling from last night.

He had come to believe Grace Ellerby was one woman who would never abandon him and his children. At first he’d thought that because she had no other options available to her. But lately he had come to trust in her loyalty and devotion. Her evasive answers to his questions made him feel like a fool for placing his trust in her. The notion that she might be making plans to go elsewhere felt like a personal betrayal.

It took Miss Ellerby a moment to produce an audible reply.

“That is not true!” she burst out at last. “I have no intention of leaving Nethercross unless you wish me to go.”

She sounded sincere, but when he tried to seek the truth in her eyes, Miss Ellerby scowled and looked away—the very picture of a guilty conscience. It was bad enough if she meant to leave. That she would lie to him about it grieved Rupert beyond measure.

“Of course I do not wish you to go. But if you cannot trust me with the truth and I cannot trust what you tell me…” His words trailed off with a weary shrug and a sigh.

He did not mean it as a threat. Even if he had, his plea seemed to have no effect on Miss Ellerby. Her lips remained shut, imprisoning any words she might have confided in him.

“Then perhaps it is just as well I wed Mrs. Cadmore as soon as possible.” He flung the news at her. “If she and her son can dine with us tonight, I shall propose. Please make certain the girls are prepared and warn them to mind their tongues around the lady who will be their new mother.”

With that he spun on his heel and stalked off, his spirits sinking lower with every step.

* * *

“But you said everything went well at the ball last night,” cried Charlotte, when Grace informed the girls of their father’s plans. “What changed his mind? Was it seeing those friends of yours?”

“Don’t be silly, Charlotte.” Phoebe scowled at no one in particular. “How could that make any difference about Papa and Mrs. Cadmore? We’re going to have to get used to the idea of having a stepmother, that’s all.”

Grace wished what Phoebe said was true but she feared it was not. This was her fault as Charlotte had implied. Her cowardly flight from the ball must have made Rupert want a woman who would remain with him—even if the motive for her constancy was not love.

“I won’t ever get used to it!” Sophie wailed. “I don’t want a stepmother!”

“Nor do I.” Charlotte stooped and wrapped her arms around her little sister. “Especially not Mrs. Cadmore.”

“I don’t care for her, either.” Phoebe flung herself onto one of the nursery chairs. “But if Papa is determined to marry, we could do even worse.”

Grace did her best to soothe the girls as she helped dress and groom them for dinner. But how could she hope to persuade them all would be well when she was more certain than ever their father was making a grave mistake—one into which she had pushed him?

“P-please, Miss Ella,” Sophie sniffled as Grace brushed her hair. “Isn’t there
anything
you can do?”

Was there? Grace’s conscience demanded even as she tried to pretend otherwise.

One possibility did suggest itself, though she quailed at the thought. Lord Steadwell had already hinted that he might dismiss her, and the action she contemplated taking would likely remove any doubt.

But if he did marry Mrs. Cadmore, Grace feared he would end up every bit as miserable as his children. She could not bear for that to happen, even if her effort to stop him made it impossible for her to remain at Nethercross.

“Hush now.” She wiped Sophie’s streaming eyes and pressed a soft kiss upon her forehead. “Perhaps there
is
something I can do to help. But I will need you to be on your best behavior at dinner and act as if nothing is wrong. Can you do that for me?”

The child gave a brave nod and her lips spread into an unsteady smile.

“Did you mean that?” whispered Charlotte as Grace looked her over. “Or did you only say it to keep Sophie from blubbering all through dinner and making Papa angry?”

“A little of both,” Grace admitted. “I don’t want her making this evening any worse. But there is one last thing I mean to try. I don’t know if it will work, but I cannot stand by and do nothing.”

In spite of the doubt she had expressed, a hopeful glimmer kindled in Charlotte’s eyes.

“Thank you for trying at least!” She threw her arms around Grace’s neck.

A lump rose in Grace’s throat as she soaked up the encouraging warmth of Charlotte’s embrace and exchanged a fond smile with Phoebe. She had come to feel so much more for these three dear girls than she had for any of her other pupils. Though she did not know how she could bear to be parted from them, she would rather that than stay and see their family become as wretched as hers had been. The anguish of witnessing their unhappiness would be made doubly bitter by the knowledge that she might have been able to prevent it, if only she’d dared try.

“There now, you look lovely, as usual.” Grace could not resist bestowing a little touch upon each of the girls—smoothing hair, adjusting a ribbon, plumping a sash. “Bessie, will you kindly escort the girls down to the dining room? And please ask his lordship if I might have a brief word with him before dinner on an urgent matter.”

“Yes, Miss,” replied the nursery maid with a puzzled look as she ushered the girls off. “Is everythin’ all right? You’re not ill are you?”

Grace shook her head. Not ill—only sick with fear. Her instinctive response to that feeling was to run away and hide. It was what she’d been doing all her life. But now she must stand firm and throw off her protective disguise.

Turning toward the looking glass, she removed her father’s spectacles and her starched white cap with its unbecoming lappets. Then she picked up the brush and began to dress her hair in a style that complimented her appearance.

A while later, she stood waiting outside the dining room, her hands clasped in front of her in an effort to still their trembling. She tried to draw slow calming breaths, but each one exhaled as a quivering sigh. If Lord Steadwell did not appear soon, she feared she would turn tail and scurry back to the nursery.

So taut were her nerves that the faint rattle of the door opening nearly made her scream. She stifled the sound while it was still only a squeak.

“What is it you wish to tell me, Miss Ellerby?” his lordship demanded in an impatient grumble as he closed the dining room door behind him. “I hope you will keep it brie—”

His sentence halted abruptly as he got a proper look at her. His mouth fell slack and his eyes widened. “Good gracious!”

The first shock was followed by one even greater. Grace feared his eyes might bulge out of their sockets. “Good gracious!” he repeated. “You!”

Chapter Fourteen

W
hat in blazes did Miss Ellerby have to say to him now that she could not have said earlier when he’d confronted her in the lane?

Rupert’s daughters and guests were already seated when Bessie relayed the message.

It was on the tip of his tongue to reply that whatever Miss Ellerby wanted could wait until the Cadmores had gone. He had no intention of delaying their dinner so she could flog a dead horse with more pleas that he abandon his plan to wed his comely neighbor. Did she not realize his daughters were becoming resigned to the idea? Once they saw that he had not saddled them with a wicked stepmother from out of a fairy tale they would accept his marriage and all would be well.

But what if the governess meant to go further by threatening to resign her post if he proposed to Mrs. Cadmore? Though Rupert had no intention of allowing her to coerce him, he thought it worth hearing what Miss Ellerby wanted at least.

“If you will pardon me for a moment.” He cast Mrs. Cadmore an apologetic smile. “There is a matter I must attend to, then we can begin.”

“Is it that urgent?” The lady made no effort to conceal her impatience. “Surely it can wait until after dinner.”

“I’m not certain it can,” said Rupert, even though he knew Mrs. Cadmore was probably right. “It will be a very brief postponement, I assure you.”

As he strode to the door he refused to admit that part of him welcomed this delay, fleeting though it would be.

“What is it you wish to tell me, Miss Ellerby?” he muttered as he closed the door behind him. His impatience was less with her than with his divided inclinations. “I hope you will keep it brie—”

Then he turned and his gaze swept upward from her familiar dull-green dress to the startlingly attractive woman wearing it. “Good gracious!”

It couldn’t be plain Miss Ellerby—yet it was. Rupert would never have credited a cap and spectacles with making such a striking difference in a person’s appearance. How beautiful she might look in a pretty gown, he could only imagine.

To his further shock Rupert realized he
could
imagine it all too easily.

“Good gracious!” he gasped again. “You!”

The woman before him was Grace Ellerby—he could tell that, just barely. But she was also the mysterious beauty from the masquerade. Now he understood why she had seemed so familiar. No wonder he had not been able to place her. He had plundered his memory for every beautiful woman he’d ever met, but his daughters’ mousy governess had not numbered among them.

“You do know who I am, then?” She looked ready to shrink from a blow that might fall at any moment.

He gave a stiff nod. “Now that I see you without your disguise. Without
either
of your disguises.”

To think he had congratulated himself on hiring a governess who would never abandon his family to elope. What a blind dupe he’d been!

The realization that he had been so thoroughly hoodwinked did not improve his temper. “You owe me an explanation, Miss Ellerby, if that is indeed your name.”

She flinched as if that were the blow she’d been expecting. “It is. I may not have told you the entire truth about myself but I tried to tell you as much as I could. As for my explanation—you will get it, I promise. But there is not nearly enough time now.”

Her words reminded Rupert of the party in the dining room awaiting his return. The sight of her had driven every thought of them from his mind. “What do you want with me then?”

“Just to beg you not to propose to Mrs. Cadmore until I’ve had the chance to explain my situation. I have reason to know you are not done with love as you claim. It would be a grave misfortune indeed if you undertook a marriage of convenience only to later meet a lady you could care for.”

He had been beguiled into fancying he cared for
her
.

“Is that why you stole in to the masquerade?” he demanded. “To seek me out and make up to me so I would abandon my marriage plans?”

The emotions that had possessed his heart in that moonlit garden last night had not entirely released him. But they did have to battle equally potent feelings of betrayal and abandonment.

“I did not steal in.” Grace shook her head so hard her golden hair billowed around her face. “My friend Lady Benedict secured me an invitation. It was she and her husband in the carriage you saw earlier. Viscount Benedict wanted to pay his respects to you but I was afraid it might raise awkward questions and you would discover what I’d done.”

Lady Benedict? Rupert had heard about the viscount’s recent marriage as well as some wild rumor about him proposing to the lady in front of a great crowd at Bath. But that did not mean Grace Ellerby was telling him the truth.

“I did not ‘make up’ to you to ruin your marriage plans,” she continued with vehement sincerity. “You came to
my
rescue, remember? I did not even know who you were at first.”

“At first?” Rupert seized on those words to distract himself from the memory of trailing after her like a calf-eyed schoolboy, eager to protect her from the unwelcome attentions of other men. “When did you realize who I was? And why did you keep on pretending we were strangers?”

A wave of shame seemed to quench her spirit. “Because I feared you would suspect the worst of me…as you do. The truth is I accepted my friend’s invitation so I could keep watch on you in case you tried to propose to Mrs. Cadmore.”

“What would you have done then? Thrown yourself into my arms? Pretended you had a prior claim upon me?” In spite of his outrage, Rupert could not suppress a traitorous wish that she had done those things.

“No!” Grace Ellerby’s forceful denial felt like a rejection of the feelings she’d stirred in him. “That is… I don’t know because that is not what happened. Instead you came to my assistance, then we walked in the garden and talked. You told me—”

“I am not responsible for anything I said under the influence of that romantic atmosphere!” Rupert lashed out against the sting of that rejection. “Today I woke up to the practical necessities of life.”

She flinched from the intensity of his anger but refused to back down altogether. “Nonetheless, what happened last night convinced me you will never be happy married to a woman you do not love.”

Her quiet certainty shook him to the core and threatened to rally his own doubts against him. “There is much more at stake than my happiness!”

“But if you are not happy, your daughters will not be, either.” If only she would respond with anger, it would have been easier to dismiss her claims. Her heartfelt pleas were much harder to disregard. “I know you are trying to do what is best for them but this is not it! I do not believe your wife would want that for any of you.”

Rupert’s temper flared. “Do not presume to tell me what my wife would have wanted! I will be the judge of what is best for my children, Miss Ellerby. Now, I must get back to my guests, but I will expect a full explanation later for why you entered my employ under false pretenses, which you have continued to this day.”

Fearing she might say something more to detain him, he turned and fled back into the dining room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

“Is there some difficulty, Lord Steadwell?” Mrs. Cadmore inquired in a tone of concern. “We heard raised voices.”

Rupert shook his head and made a determined effort to regain his composure. “A minor issue with the staff, though the timing was altogether inconvenient.”

Despite his best efforts to prevent it, Grace Ellerby’s face rose in his mind. Incidents from the past few months flitted through his memory, featuring Miss Ellerby in her true attractive appearance.

As he strode back to his chair and tried to carry on as if nothing had happened, Rupert caught his daughters exchanging furtive looks. Had they put their governess up to attending the masquerade to spy on him? Suddenly he realized why her pink Stuart-era gown had looked so familiar. How long had his children known about the secret beauty hiding in their nursery?

Besides the feeling of betrayal that his daughters had conspired to deceive him so, it also made Rupert realize how desperately opposed they still must be to his marriage plans.

* * *

There. She had done it at last—the thing she should have done from the very beginning if only she’d known what kind of man her new employer would turn out to be.

As Grace watched the dining-room door swing shut behind him, her conscience protested. It had not taken her long to discover that Rupert Kendrick was a trustworthy, honorable gentleman who would never have tried to prey upon her like so many other men she’d known. From that moment there had been no excuse to repay his decency with deception—except her lack of courage.

Neither Rebecca nor Marian would have behaved as she had. Heaving a sigh of regret Grace turned and headed back to the nursery with slow, weary steps. Her friends would have confessed the truth at once and accepted the consequences with fortitude. Perhaps that was why they had been rewarded with security and happiness while she was about to be cast out from the safety and serenity of Nethercross—the first place that had felt like home to her in many years.

Clearly her stepmother and teachers had been right. Her fair looks were a superficial mask to hide a flawed character. She had been pulled far too easily into the sticky web of deceit. But now she was free. No longer would she have to devise new lies to cover up old ones. No longer would she have to be less than truthful with the man she admired and cared for.

Perhaps those blessings alone would be worth the just punishment she would now suffer for her transgressions.

She might as well begin packing her trunk, Grace decided when she reached the empty nursery. Lord Steadwell might be kind enough not to send her away this very night, but she could not deny the anger with which he’d reacted to her revelations. He would not want someone who had demonstrated such a lack of integrity to continue raising his beloved daughters. And she could not blame him.

If their places had been reversed, she would have done the same. However, she hoped she might have been able to find a drop of pity in her heart for the person who had acted out of fear and desperation rather than malice.

The time dragged by as Grace gathered her meager belongings and stowed them away in her trunk. Between inquisitions of her conscience, she wondered what was happening down in the dining room. Had Lord Steadwell proposed to Mrs. Cadmore in front of their children? If he must do it, Grace hoped he would wait until after his daughters had left at least. She feared that Sophie, in particular, would not be able to hide her dismay.

If the child burst into tears or referred to wicked stepmothers from her fairy tales, it might provoke her father’s anger and Mrs. Cadmore’s resentment. Any small chance of future happiness for their family would be poisoned. Would that be her fault, too? Grace could not deny the possibility.

Perhaps if she hadn’t allowed old wounds from childhood to fester within her, she would not have encouraged Charlotte, Phoebe and Sophie in their resistance to their father’s remarriage. Then he and Mrs. Cadmore might have stood some hope of blending their families into a reasonably happy one. Though Grace still had her doubts, she could not deny her fault in making a bad situation worse.

At last she heard the approach of footsteps. Swallowing her bitter brew of fears and regrets she composed her features and went to meet the girls. Her first priority now must be to make the changes that were coming as easy as possible for them to bear.

They rushed in, all trying to squeeze through the door at once and all speaking at the same time.

“Girls, please!” Nursery discipline reasserted itself. “I cannot understand a word you’re saying. One at a time, then we must get you to bed. Sophie first, for she looks as if she’s about to explode.”

Charlotte and Phoebe did not look pleased with that, but they allowed their little sister to speak. “What did you say to Papa, Miss Ella? We heard you talking quite loudly outside the dining room. Anyway, it must have worked because he didn’t ask Mrs. Cadmore to marry him.”

That unexpected good news made Grace’s heart bound. If she had succeeded in keeping Lord Steadwell from making a terrible mistake, her exile from Nethercross, no matter how painful, would not be in vain.

Now that Sophie had spoken, Phoebe seemed to feel it should be her turn next. “Why have you not got your cap and spectacles on, Miss Ella? Did you let Papa see you looking pretty? Did you think it might make him want to marry
you
instead of Mrs. Cadmore?”

“Nothing like that!” Grace cried. She could tell by the girls’ expressions that such a notion shocked them. They had no desire to trade one stepmother for another. She could not blame them for feeling that way. After all she had encouraged them to resist the prospect of having a stepmother regardless of whether it might be someone capable of loving their father and them.

“I wanted him to know he had spoken to me at the masquerade and some of the things he said made me certain it would be a mistake for him to wed Mrs. Cadmore. Besides, your Papa has treated me with kindness and respect ever since I arrived at Nethercross. I repaid him poorly, by not being truthful with him. I thought I had good reasons for keeping secrets but now I am not sure any excuse would be good enough. I only hope you girls will learn from my mistakes and not follow my example.”

BOOK: The Baron's Governess Bride
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