Regency Surrender: Defiant Lords: His Unusual Governess / Claiming the Chaperon's Heart. Anne Herries
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for the sake of John and Francesca—but you are the most unusual governess I have ever met.’
‘Is that necessarily a bad thing?’ Sarah raised her eyes to his. ‘I give you my word that I am not an adventuress, nor did I come here to entrap anyone into marriage.’
‘Shall I believe you?’ He looked at her steadily. His strong features had relaxed and there was a teasing light in his eyes, as if he were playing with her, as a cat with a mouse. ‘Yes, perhaps I shall. So what is it you are hiding? Are you in trouble? I might be able to help you if that is the case.’
‘I am perfectly capable of looking after my own affairs.’ Sarah raised her head proudly. ‘I believe that was the dinner gong. We should go in or we shall keep the others waiting.’
He inclined his head, offering her his arm. ‘As you say, Miss Goodrum. Please accept my apologies if I have wronged you.’
Sarah hesitated and then placed the tips of her fingers on his arm, her head high as they walked towards the dining room. She could only keep her distance and hope he would do the same.
The last thing she’d expected when she came here was to find herself having to fend off the advances of a man she suspected was a rake. Charming and undeniably attractive, he would make most female hearts flutter, but Sarah had come here to escape from the unwanted attentions of a similar man.
Had she been less stubborn she might have fled the next morning, but she had no intention of letting Lord Myers drive her away.
* * *
Rupert watched the governess across the table as she talked and laughed with her pupils. She seemed very at home, very much as if she were accustomed to dining in style, and showed no hesitation in choosing the correct glasses and silver. Her manner was calm and assured, and, apart from the dark looks she sent his way now and then, she seemed perfectly at ease. He knew himself at fault for that kiss, but she’d looked at him with such a challenge in her eyes that he’d been tempted. If she were truly what she claimed, he had wronged her, but his instincts told him that she was far from the downtrodden drudge that most women in her situation became after a few years.
The dress she was wearing this evening was far too stylish to belong to a governess. It was plain and simple, but in perfect taste, and must have cost as much as she would earn in a year. How could she possibly own a dress like that if she were what she claimed to be? It must have been given to her, possibly made to fit her—and who would give a governess such a gift? Yet it was not what he would have purchased for a mistress. Instead it had an understated elegance that a lady with refined taste might choose.
The gown had made him think she must be an adventuress, which had led him into that foolish kiss. He was here to mentor his uncle’s grandchildren and the last thing he should contemplate was an affair with their governess. Perhaps a grateful employer had given her the gown, as a gift?
If that were the case, he had definitely wronged her, but it did not explain her manner. Summoned to eat with their employer, most governesses would show reserve or some awkwardness even if their manners were excellent, as hers were. No, she was accustomed to dining like this—and she felt it her right.
Only a woman who felt assured of her place in the world could be so at home in the situation he had forced her to accept. Had he met her in society he would not have placed her in the upper echelons, but she would certainly be accepted. Why, then, was she a governess? Had her family fallen on hard times? Yet if she were in desperate need of a job she would not be so confident—so assured. His suspicion deepened. Rupert had reason enough to distrust the female sex. His heart broken when he was no more than a lad, he’d never offered it again. Since then he’d amused himself with ladies of a certain kind, most of them married or widowed. A few of his mistresses had been courtesans, prepared to sell themselves to the highest bidder, and were usually not to be trusted.
Miss Goodrum did not follow the pattern for a downtrodden governess, which made him certain that she was not what she claimed. It followed that she was hiding something—but rather than fear he’d seen a challenge in her eyes. And she had responded to that kiss.
Her manner had aroused Rupert’s hunting instincts. He found her intriguing, and, yes, had he met her in other circumstances, he might have attempted to make her his mistress.
Who was she and why was she here? Their eyes met across the table and he smiled, seeing the uncertainty in hers. Had he made an enemy of her? Rupert suddenly found himself hoping that he could recover the lost ground. She looked so right somehow as she laughed and teased John and encouraged Francesca. He experienced a strange emotion that he could not place—as if he had found a place of content, of belonging.
For the first time in an age he wanted to be a part of that family scene. It struck him then that Miss Goodrum was more like an aunt or an elder sister to Francesca, and the smile on her lips was both generous and sweet.
Yet there was a mystery here. He’d sensed it from the start and he took hold of his emotions, reining them in. A woman’s smile could deceive so easily. He’d been burned as a young man, his pride ripped to pieces and his heart damaged. Since then he’d chosen carefully and made sure that none of the ladies he took to his bed had buried their claws in his skin.
The governess had claws. There was passion and fire beneath the cool exterior. It would certainly prove amusing to discover who she really was and why she’d come here.
What was she hiding from?
* * *
John was sent to bed as soon as dinner was over. Francesca was allowed to drink a dish of tea in the drawing room with her governess, but as soon as Lord Myers joined them, he sent her off to bed. Sarah immediately rose to her feet to follow. He caught her wrist, as she would have passed him.
The candles were burning low in their sconces and the fire had ceased to burn fiercely. Shadows seemed to creep over the room, making it feel intimate and tempting her to stay—but she must not!
‘There is no need for you to leave, Miss Goodrum.’
‘I think there is every need, sir. Please allow me to pass.’ Sarah’s heart raced at his nearness, the mystique of his scent powerful and attractive. She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, knowing that this was a dangerous situation. She must go before he tried to seduce her.
He let go reluctantly, his expression odd and almost regretful. ‘I am sorry for what I said earlier. I was testing you. You must admit that dress is not the usual attire for a governess.’
‘No, I suppose not. It belongs to the time when my father was alive. He bought it for me as a gift. My father was careful with his money, sir, and he spent it on me.’
Sarah avoided his searching gaze, though her words were not far from the truth. She’d purchased the gown when her first period of mourning was over with the money her beloved father had left her and because it was a favourite she’d kept it. Had she worn some of her other newer gowns she could not have hoped to keep her secret.
‘Then I apologise for casting aspersions on your character. Come, Miss Goodrum, will you not forgive me?’
‘Consider yourself forgiven, my lord. I only wish to be on good terms with you.’
She deliberately made her voice flat, calm and
emotionless, hoping that her reserve would make him step back.
‘Then I shall not tease you again. We must not allow our charges to sense animosity between us.’
‘No, that would be unfortunate,’ she agreed, bringing her eyes up to his. His expression set her heart thumping. She had seen that look in a man’s eyes before and it disturbed her. Normally she had no hesitation in dealing with unwanted seducers, but this man was different, more powerful and compelling than any other she’d met. ‘We shall try to be easy in one another’s company for their sakes.’
‘May I not be counted as a friend?’
‘I think you ask a little too much, sir. I hardly know you—but perhaps