The Baron's Governess Bride (20 page)

“I almost wish I had,” she admitted with a rueful grimace. “But your daughters deserve better than that from me. So do you after what I’ve done. The result will be the same though, won’t it? I shall have to leave. I cannot blame you for not trusting me to raise your daughters after the lack of character I’ve shown.”

Leave? The prospect of losing her from his home jarred Rupert. He had not thought beyond this confrontation to its consequences. Reason warned him that dismissing her was the only prudent course. She had already gained too perilous a foothold in his affections. By her own admission, she was the sort of woman who posed his heart the greatest danger—one who was apt to take flight and abandon him.

But how could he do that to his daughters when it was clear how much they had come to care for their new governess?

“I cannot pretend I approve of your actions.” He could scarcely force the words out—so torn was he about what course of action to take. “But I understand why you felt compelled to hide your beauty in the beginning.”

His tongue tripped over the word
beauty,
for it reminded him anew how much her looks attracted him.

Rupert cleared his throat and continued, “I acknowledge the part I played in making you feel you must continue the ruse or lose your position. But I am gravely disappointed that once we became better acquainted you continued to doubt I would understand.”

For the first time that evening he thought he glimpsed the faint shimmer of tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“I believe you are.” He resisted the intense urge to stride toward her and offer her the comfort of his embrace. She would assume he was no better than those other men who had tried to take advantage of her innocence and prey upon her beauty. Recalling how he had ignored his growing fondness for plain Miss Ellerby only to indulge his instant fancy for the masked lady, Rupert could not be altogether certain he
was
any better. “And I hope you will try to make it up to my family by staying on at Nethercross as my daughters’ governess.”

He held his breath as he waited for her answer. For his daughters’ sake he knew he could not dismiss her. But for himself he could not decide if he was more alarmed at the prospect of Grace leaving…or staying?

Chapter Fifteen

“S
tay?” Grace could not believe her ears. After all she had told him, she’d been certain his lordship would pack her off to Reading that very night.

He nodded. “Please. It is clear my girls care a great deal about you and you about them. I promise you will never have anything to fear under my roof like you suffered in your past positions. In turn I hope that from now on you will always be truthful with me.”

“I will, sir, most gladly.” Grace did not need any such inducements from him. She had learned how treacherous the slippery slope of secrecy could be. “Thank you, sir. This is far greater forbearance than I deserve.”

Grateful and relieved as she was, Grace could not stifle the feeling that she had escaped the just punishment due her. “If you will excuse me, then, sir, I should return to the nursery in case any of the girls are still awake.”

He replied with a wordless nod.

Grace was halfway through the door when curiosity got the better of her. “Please, sir, if the children ask, what should I tell them about you and Mrs. Cadmore?”

Was she already straining the promise she’d just made to his lordship about being truthful? It was quite as much for her own sake that she needed to know as for her pupils. “I ask, sir, because I fear the lady might not approve of me once she sees my true appearance. I would not want my presence in the house to place a strain on your marriage.”

Lord Steadwell turned to gaze out the window.

“Now that I perceive the depth of my daughters’ opposition to that match, I believe I must abandon any thought of it.” His words trailed off in a sigh.

Had she been wrong about his feelings for Mrs. Cadmore? Did they run deeper than she’d wanted to believe? Or had his lordship acknowledged the likelihood that his daughters would never accept any other woman in their mother’s place?

If that were true, it would be a great pity for him, Grace reflected as she closed the study door softly behind her and returned to the nursery. Now that he was beginning to cast off the cruel bonds of grief, must he remain alone until his daughters were all married before he dared take a wife? How many more years must he endure the loneliness of which he had spoken at the masquerade?

The masquerade—Grace thought back upon the event as if it had taken place weeks ago rather than just last night. Recalling the things he had confided in her, the chaste but tender touch of his hand, she had been so certain he felt something for her. But once he discovered the identity of the lady behind the mask, there had been no mention of anything that passed between them. He had been vexed with her for deceiving him and pretending to be the sort of lady he might have cared for as an equal.

For the sake of his children he was willing to let her keep her position. But his promise that she would not be exposed to any romantic attentions while under his roof made it clear he would not permit himself to have feelings for someone in her position.

Lord Benedict had been willing to accept an impoverished bride of noble birth. Captain Radcliffe, though now a wealthy landowner, had once been an ordinary sailor with a blemished reputation. The captain might not have perceived any social gulf between him and Marian Murray that love could not span. But Lord Steadwell clearly shared Captain Townsend’s belief that a gentleman should not take a wife so far beneath him.

When Grace slipped back into the nursery, Charlotte stirred and called out in a whisper, “What did Papa say, Miss Ella? Are you to be dismissed? We won’t let him do it, you know. We’ll go and tell him the masquerade was our idea and you did not want to go.”

“Shh.” Grace made her way to the child’s bed and perched on the edge of it. “We don’t want to wake your sisters. I appreciate your willingness to intercede for me with your father, but it will not be necessary. After he listened to my explanation, he was kind enough to say I may remain at Nethercross.”

Charlotte shot upright and flung her arms around Grace’s neck. “That’s wonderful, Miss Ella! The girls will be so happy! Now we can all continue on as we have been. Unless…” She pulled back from her eager embrace. “What about Mrs. Cadmore? Does Papa still plan to marry her?”

Torn between relief and guilt, Grace shook her head. “He understands now that you cannot abide having a stepmother. So he has given up the idea of remarrying for the present.”

Charlotte renewed her embrace tighter than ever. “It’s all turned out well, then.
Happily ever after
as Sophie would say!”

* * *

A fortnight after his interview with Grace Ellerby, Rupert could still recall with perfect clarity her look of rapturous relief when he’d begged her to remain at Nethercross and promised he would not trouble her with his unwelcome attentions. Clearly their encounter at the masquerade had meant something quite different to her than it had to him. Had she only permitted him to draw close to her so he would realize he could not settle for a loveless marriage?

Recalling his former marriage plans reminded Rupert that he owed Mrs. Cadmore an explanation and an apology. Not wanting to put it off any longer, he called for his horse to be saddled and rode at once to Dungrove.

The lady received him with frosty civility. “Lord Steadwell, to what do I owe this unexpected honor? I am surprised you can tear yourself away from home these days—the nursery, in particular.”

Rupert refused to inquire what she meant by that remark. “I know I should have come to speak to you sooner. I must beg your pardon for that and for a great deal more. I have imposed upon you of late in a most shameful fashion.”

“Indeed you have, sir.” She fluttered her fan to stir the sultry August air, though her manner betrayed not the slightest degree of warmth. “I confess I am at a loss to know why. I thought you and I had an understanding that an alliance between our families would be of mutual benefit.”

“I used to think so too.” Rupert toyed self-consciously with the brim of his hat. “I assure you it was never my intention to lead you on. I planned to make you an offer of marriage, but when the time came I found I could not.”

Mrs. Cadmore arched one raven eyebrow and fixed him with an icy glare. “And why was that, pray?”

“For the same reason you should have refused me if I had proposed.” Much as he regretted aspects of his conduct, Rupert no longer doubted he had done the right thing. “Because I do not love you, nor do I believe you have any tender feelings for me. I persuaded myself that did not matter to me only to discover…it does.”

The lady’s fan snapped shut. “Sentimental nonsense! I took you for a rational, practical man of property, not some calf-eyed schoolboy. I find you most attractive and excellent company. I have no doubt we could have grown quite fond of one another in time.”

Rupert gave a decisive shake of his head. “You may always rely upon me as a friend and neighbor, but I now realize it would have been a grave mistake for us to marry without love.”

Mrs. Cadmore sniffed. “It’s that governess, isn’t it? I saw her in church last week and scarcely recognized her without that hideous cap and spectacles. I suppose she made herself look plain and respectable to gain a footing in your household, then threw off the disguise to catch your fancy.”

“That is not true!” Rupert protested, shaken to discover the intensity of outrage an insult to Grace provoked in him. “Miss Ellerby is an excellent governess to my daughters, whatever her appearance. But she is nothing more to me than that.”

He wanted to assure Mrs. Cadmore that Grace had nothing to do with the change in his intentions toward her, but that would not be true.

But was it true that Grace Ellerby meant nothing more to him than any other valued employee? Rupert’s conscience demanded an honest answer as he took his leave of Mrs. Cadmore and rode back home.

Certainly he
wanted
it to be true, especially after their discussion about Grace remaining at Nethercross. The last thing he needed was to lose his heart to a woman he had promised not to subject to any romantic attentions, when she would now surely attract the interest of
other
men. His only hope of keeping Grace in his household lay in stifling whatever tender feelings sought to take root in his heart. As for other men who might try to steal her away, he must hope her past experiences would make her too wary to encourage them, even if their intentions were honorable.

Somehow it troubled Rupert to think of keeping her at Nethercross, bound by the force of her fears. Much as she obviously cared for his daughters, was it fair to deny her the opportunity to enjoy a home and family of her own?

Those worries continued to nag at him as the weeks passed and Parliament recessed. Like his fellow peers he headed to the country, though not to devote all his time to hunting, as many of them would. Instead he looked forward to supervising the harvest and spending more time with his daughters… which meant more time in the company of Grace Ellerby.

He tried to persuade himself it was no different than when she’d first come to Nethercross but soon realized that was not true. Every time she appeared, he had to stifle a gasp of wonder at her delicate, golden beauty and ask himself how he could have been blind to it for so long.

Perhaps because she felt safe and able to be herself her face had taken on a luminous quality, as if a devoted ray of sunshine followed her everywhere. With her eyes no longer hidden behind those hideous pinched spectacles, Rupert could see they were a soft, winsome blue, like the sky in those first moments after daybreak. When she smiled, as she now did so often, he could not help but admire the generous shape and the ripe color of her lips. How hard she must have worked to hide those attractive features from his notice.

Her looks were not all that had transformed. Her manner took on a sparkle of animation and her voice a sweet lilt. Her laughter set something alight inside Rupert, beckoning him to join in. Yet beneath those superficial changes remained all the fine qualities he had valued in plain, severe Miss Ellerby—a gentleness of spirit, a quick mind and a nurturing heart.

He began to suspect he had been half in love with her long before that fateful masquerade. Had he willfully ignored any fleeting glimpses of her beauty out of a secret fear that it might force him to acknowledge his feelings for what they were?

Now he struggled to fight those feelings, knowing what they could cost him if he allowed them to overwhelm his stubborn will. But every day he lost a bit more ground and some traitorous part of him cheered those small defeats.

Spending time with her in the company of his daughters was a joy that made his heart swell with new life, but it no longer satisfied his thirst for her companionship. He wanted to spend time alone with Grace Ellerby, learning more about her. He wanted to confide in her and seek her advice. He wanted to learn how she felt and offer his support.

Even as he tumbled down that slippery slope, wondering when he would strike bottom, Rupert knew he did not dare act upon those feelings or he might frighten Grace away. He also knew from bitter experience what that loss would do to him.

* * *

Was this how
happily ever after
was supposed to feel? Grace pondered that question as she and the girls joined their father at the traditional feast he hosted for his tenants to celebrate the harvest. In most ways, the past several weeks had been among the happiest she’d ever experienced. Life at Nethercross had returned to the way it should be—the way it had been before Rupert took the notion to remarry.

For Grace, life was far better because she no longer needed to hide behind that horrid old cap and her father’s spectacles. Rather than stifling her pleasure for fear it would spoil her disguise of plain severity, she could now smile when she felt like smiling, which was a great deal of the time.

The opportunity to be herself without fear of criticism or unwelcome attention was a blessing she had not known since childhood and one for which she would always be grateful. She owed so much to Lord Steadwell—far more than she could ever repay. But she was trying to repay him by approaching her duties in a new way. She had always been diligent in carrying them out, but now she threw herself into her work with zest. More and more she found that teaching was not simply a respectable means to support herself, but a true vocation that brought her enormous fulfillment.

The more enthusiasm she brought to her duties, the more her pupils rewarded her efforts with their excellent progress. Charlotte no longer protested that too much learning would hurt her chances of a good marriage, but applied herself to her studies, especially geography and history. Phoebe discovered an interest in subjects other than horses, while little Sophie proved something of a prodigy in reading and composition.

Delighted as she was by their progress, Grace sought plenty of opportunities for them to enjoy a carefree childhood. Once their father returned home from London, she was willing to drop lessons at a moment’s notice for them to go riding with him or play a game. As the harvest feast approached, the four of them had thrown themselves into preparing one of the cavernous old outbuildings for the festivities.

“Can I open my eyes yet?” asked Rupert as Sophie and Phoebe led him in to view their handiwork before welcoming the neighbors and tenants.

“Not quite yet,” called Charlotte, who led the way arm-in-arm with Grace. “Just another minute. My, but you are impatient.”