The Mysterious Governess (Daughters of Sin Book 3) (28 page)

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Authors: Beverley Oakley

Tags: #artist, #portraitist, #governess, #Regency romantic intrigue, #government plot, #spoiled debutante, #political intrigue, #Regency political intrigue

BOOK: The Mysterious Governess (Daughters of Sin Book 3)
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“A letter written by Sir Aubrey’s late wife lays out the whole affair. It exonerates Sir Aubrey and incriminates Lord Debenham.”

“But Miss Partington burned the letter!” Lissa cried.

Ralph turned from Sir William’s shocked expression to Lissa’s outrage, with a smile. “She burned what she
believed
was the letter. I had a copy made and paid the sum required to gain possession of the
real
letter. It’s under my mattress.”

“Good Lord! Well, this does alter matters. Pray, enlarge upon the contents of this letter.”

After Ralph had given a concise summary of the whole affair, which did not implicate either Jem or Araminta, Sir William leaned back, laced his hands across his lean torso, and slowly shook his head. “My word, but this has been a profitable meeting. I shall be leaving the country soon but before that I will be meeting with some colleagues of mine to discuss the matter. Though I am now based in Constantinople, I will still be involved in ongoing developments with this case due to a...surprising connection.” He shifted in his chair and looked intently at Lissa. “Do you have anything further to add, Miss Hazlett? I take it you have informed me of all the sketches you were required to do? Mr. Lamont is a devious miscreant. We need to understand the full extent of his activities in case he’s involved in greater criminal activity. If he has been recruited as a spy, we need to know the names of everyone he might have spied upon.”

He sent Lissa a questioning look at her quick intake of breath and she dropped her eyes.

“Your Excellency, I should have mentioned it, earlier, but I was too...” She shook her head, unable to finish until, at Sir William’s prompting, she gathered her courage and said in a rush, “Mr. Lamont was asked by a certain Mr. Crossing to follow his wife. It was the same night I sketched Lords Smythe and Debenham. At Vauxhall Gardens. He requested that she be sketched with whomever we found her.”

Predictably, there was silence at this pronouncement. Carefully, Lissa raised her eyes to find Sir William staring at her with an expression difficult to fathom.

He turned to Ralph. “If you will excuse us for a few moments, Mr. Tunley, I would like to speak to Miss Hazlett in private.” Calmly, he led the way to the door, saying conversationally, “This is more serious than I thought. In the interests of national security, I cannot have her evidence given in the presence of a third person.”

After Ralph had bowed himself out of the room, Sir William slowly returned to his seat, steepled his fingers and sent Lissa a long, considering look. “I take it you did not sketch Mrs. Crossing after all, else her husband would have made it a matter to bring before the divorce courts.”

Lissa looked down at the great tear to her drab print skirts. Such a pity, for it was one of her most serviceable gowns.

Well, there was nothing for it. She’d have to be frank.

“I did, in fact, Your Excellency. I sketched her as I saw her. Mr. Lamont made me follow him to a supper box and she was there. With a man, Sir William, as you well know. As Mr. Lamont was looking over my shoulder, I had no choice but to sketch what I saw.”

Sir William raised one eyebrow, but beyond that gave no further indication that he understood she recognized him as that man. “Then the sketch was not given to Mr. Crossing?”

Lissa shook her head. “Mr. Lamont anticipated a great deal of money for such sensational evidence. It’s true that I sketched Mrs. Crossing with...the man she was with, however I had taken a great dislike to Mr. Crossing. He gave the appearance of being a cruel, vengeful husband. And when I saw how sweet and...vulnerable...Mrs. Crossing seemed, I was afraid he would hurt her.”

“You are perfectly correct on all counts, Miss Hazlett.” A nervous tic worked at the corner of Sir William’s mouth. He dropped his voice and his look gentled. “Go on. I presume you found a means of denying Mr. Lamont what he wanted.”

“Mr. Lamont wanted me to give the drawing to Mr. Crossing immediately but I made an excuse to keep it until two nights later, when I was fortunate enough to encounter Mrs. Crossing and warn her. I asked her if she had perchance a brother who could be substituted for her lo—”

Lissa blushed at nearly saying the word lover.

“I understand what you’re saying. I also understand that a fiery redheaded brother, if such coloring could be indicated, might have greatly aided her cause.”

“That was indeed the case. I believe Mr. and Mrs. Crossing have been observed in great felicitation since.”

Only the faintest flicker of an eyebrow indicated that this meant anything to Sir William. He rose with a bow, indicating their interview was at an end. “You have been of great assistance, Miss Hazlett. More than I can truly say.” The tenseness behind his eyes relaxed and he smiled. “You are free to leave but I would request that you do not quit London for at least another three days—until I have been in touch with further questions.” He hesitated. “I gather you will not be returning to the Lamonts, in view of recent events.”

Lissa shook her head. “My belongings are still there but I would be afraid to go back.”

“I would suggest it would be most unwise.” He cocked his head. “Mr. Tunley appears to have taken on the matter of ensuring your safety. These are grave matters beyond your ken, Miss Hazlett, so this relieves my concern. I know Mr. Tunley is in Lord Debenham’s employ but your young man is an excellent fellow. You’d be wise to follow his counsel.”

Lissa smiled her gratitude as she prepared to issue out of the door and into the corridor. “I would trust Mr. Tunley with my life, Your Excellency.”

“I do not think he would let you down, Miss Hazlett.” Sir William nodded, then closed the door after her and Lissa felt the jolt of excitement to see Ralph coming towards her, appearing from the gloom like the good-natured savior he was.

“Right, my girl, I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day. Off to Mrs. Nipkins for a good night’s sleep, eh? I shall arrange lodgings for myself next door. How are you feeling?”

Lissa exhaled on a huge breath that made her shoulders slump yet she felt strangely exhilarated. “It
has
been a big day, I will admit it, Ralph, but it’s been exciting too. So much more exciting than being just an everyday sort of governess. Her smile broadened. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” He threw his arms about her shoulders and pulled her into an impulsive hug before letting her go. “Now, off for some well-earned rest. The villains aren’t vanquished but together we’ve almost saved the day. Aren’t we a great team, Miss Hazlett?”

Chapter Twenty

A
raminta awoke in a cold sweat. Was it only last night she’d felt so joyous with her dreams about to come true? Was it only last night that she’d received a marriage offer that would make her the wife of charming, rich and titled Lord Ludbridge?

Yet how had it all ended? With her agreeing to marry Mr. Woking. In fact, precipitating Mr. Woking’s marriage proposal, which was only to add insult to injury. And, now, here in the dismal precincts of her garment-strewn room, which Jane had not even tidied properly, was an enormous bouquet of red roses with a card Jane was settling down to read.

Araminta pulled the covers up to her chin and muttered, “I don’t want to hear it,” but it appeared Jane did not hear her.

“ ‘
To the incomparable Miss Partington, who has made me the happiest man alive by agreeing to become my wife. Ever your slave, Lord Ludbridge
...’ That is rather romantic,” Jane observed with a sniff, placing the roses across the seat of a small bentwood chair by the dressing table. “What a pity you couldn’t have married him, after all. And, oh, my goodness, here’s another one.”

Araminta rolled her eyes at Jane’s sarcasm and tried to block her ears as her maid read the card attached to a second enormous bouquet, this time of yellow roses. “ ‘
Everlasting love to the sweet and ravishing Miss Araminta Partington who has conferred upon me the greatest of gifts: her undying loyalty. From her devoted husband-to-be, Mr. Roderick Woking.’
” Jane tossed the second bouquet rather unceremoniously across the first and sent a contemplative look in Araminta’s direction. “You deserve congratulations, Miss Araminta, for you do know how to get yourself out of a situation.” She bent to pick up a rumpled stocking. “That is, once you’ve already got yourself
into
a situation.”

Araminta narrowed her eyes then pulled the covers over her head. As soon as she was married, she’d get rid of Jane and her impertinence.

Married. She shuddered and stuffed her hand in her mouth to stop herself from crying.

“Oh, and in other good news,” she heard Jane’s muffled voice through the covers, “Miss Hetty writes that she is having the most wonderful wedding tour and that, happily, she is already with child.”

“Argghhh!” Araminta cried from her stuffy nest. “Get out, Jane!” But when she heard Jane taking her at her bidding, she threw back the covers and called her back.

“Fetch me more water. I need to scrub myself.” She shuddered at the memory of Mr. Woking’s dirty paws and everything else contaminating her pristine—well, almost pristine—being. “Then you can lay out my jonquil pelisse and sprigged muslin. Mr. Woking will no doubt be on his way to make arrangements and to ask Cousin Stephen, who can act as proxy for Papa. Oh dear Lord, I can’t believe I’m going to marry Mr. Woking! If only there were another way, but if there is I can’t see it.” She gave a little sob as she put her feet to the ground. “Mr. Woking wishes our marriage to take place imminently, as do I.”

“You mean in view of what you did to him last night, miss?”

“How dare you speak like that, Jane?” Araminta stood up and whipped the dripping flannel from her maid’s grasp. “Do not ever make reference to this again.”

Jane ignored her as she sat to smooth out Araminta’s other stocking. “Have you thought how you’re going to explain matters to Lord Ludbridge, who is no doubt also happily making arrangements for your wedding in the belief you’ll be his bride on his return? What might he say when he learns you’ve married Mr. Woking?”

Araminta tossed aside the stocking she’d been in the process of slipping onto her foot and threw herself onto her back on the bed to stare at the ceiling. “Why do you plague me with all these questions? I’ll think of something in good time. I’ll say...I’ll say Mr. Woking attacked me, and to preserve honor, I believed the only decent thing was to marry him, since Lord Ludbridge insisted on leaving me just when I needed him. He’ll never forgive himself, and nor should he!”

“Oh, you’d accuse Mr. Woking, would you, when I reckon the shoe was on the other foot? I can’t say I like Mr. Woking overly but you can’t blame a feller for som’at like what you gone and done.”

“When did you start telling me what I can and can’t do, Jane?” Araminta snapped, sitting up suddenly.  She gasped as a wave of nausea engulfed her, opening her eyes to find Jane had already positioned the chamber pot under her nose. As it hadn’t been emptied, she gagged more than usual.

Collapsing once more onto her back, she threw out her arms and wailed. If she’d had the courage, she’d have gone to visit one of those filthy creatures who got rid of mistakes like the one she’d made, but she’d been so terrified by the tales of almost certain death, which Jane had gleefully passed on to her, that three times she’d lost her nerve and Jane had said only last night it was too late.

Soon Araminta was dressed in her pretty afternoon gown, ready for the inevitable visit that she both welcomed and dreaded, since all her hopes hinged on this one necessary, dreadful union with a man she despised. She didn’t want to think of the one she could have had. No, she’d have to spend some time in the country to save the pain of being confronted with what she’d lost through simple misfortune.

“No girl is as unlucky as I am,” she muttered as Jane did up her buttons and a knock on the door proclaimed a visitor.

“Surprise!” called her mother, sailing into the room with a radiant smile and bearing a bundle of swaddling, which of course turned out to be the sister whose name Araminta couldn’t immediately remember.

In Lady Partington’s wake came Cousin Stephen, who was smiling more broadly than usual, for Araminta had certainly thought him a grumpy old thing to have about the place the past few weeks.

He was cooing at the tiny, downy-haired beast whose fat pink face was wreathed with answering smiles as she grasped his finger.

“Watch out, Araminta, she’s going to rival you as a beauty to be remarked upon,” he teased. “Though of course, you’ll be in your dotage with, quite possibly, grandchildren by the time little Celia has her come-out.”

“Don’t vex Araminta like that, Stephen, you know she has no sense of humor when it comes to such matters,” her mother chided him gently.

“Goodness, I have a sense of humor far more in evidence than grumpy old Cousin Stephen’s,” Araminta muttered. “I don’t think I’ve heard him say one nice thing to me this whole season.”

To Araminta’s horrified disgust, her mother leveled a look of mock disapproval upon the young man. “Poor Araminta, she seems quite out of sorts yet she’s looking as pretty as a picture. Indeed you look blooming, Araminta, and that’s the truth.”

Stephen became serious. “I’ve been conscious of the need to ensure we have no further scandals attached to the family’s good name. Hetty’s behavior was scandalous enough, and now I hear whispers circulating about you, Araminta, that trouble me, and I’m sorry for bringing it up now.”

“Whispers?” Araminta sat down quickly on the edge of her bed and fanned herself, offering a bland smile at her mother and Cousin Stephen, who were now
both
looking quite censorious. “Goodness, what can you mean?”

“You were seen alone with Lord Ludbridge last night, dearest,” her mother said. “I heard it from the dowager Dalrymple, who was most stern at the fact you’d slipped away from Mrs. Monks.” Her mother took a seat beside her and stroked her hand. “You know how careful you must be of your reputation, and that the slightest bad behavior will bring the gossips around your ears. Do be careful, darling.”

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