The Governess and Mr. Granville. Abby Gaines
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never thought she would have the chance to speak her mind, but hadn’t he just told her she was now his social equal?
Even better, a social equal who after this week would never see him again.
“Mr. Granville,” she said, “your sister has mentioned your faithfulness to the memory of your late wife, and I strongly admire that. But it may be that God has someone else in mind for you. Remarriage wouldn’t necessarily be disloyal.”
“That’s enough,” he said sharply.
Serena estimated she had maybe half a minute to persuade him, before he picked her up and bodily threw her out, social equality or not. “Even if you’re certain you don’t wish to, er, fall in love with some young lady, we could look at this from a purely practical perspective.”
“By all means, Miss Somerton, why don’t we do that?”
The silky menace in his invitation made her pause.
Best to hurry on, before courage deserted her altogether.
“There are many ladies—I can think of several wellborn spinsters in an instant—who would welcome an alliance with a wealthy, handsome man like yourself, without requiring declarations of love.”
“Hmm.” For a moment, he appeared to be considering her eminently useful suggestion. Then he said, “So, you consider me handsome?”
Heat flooded her face. “I—did I say that?” Yes, I did. “I—I’m sorry, I was merely making a point, I shouldn’t have...”
Satisfaction with her discomfort gleamed in his eyes.
Now that he’d questioned her opinion of his looks, Serena couldn’t help appraising what she could see of him: dark hair, eyes an intriguing hazel, a strong face, a mouth that... She dropped her gaze quickly. Broad shoulders, impeccable dress sense. And he was tall. Any woman would find him handsome, as he was doubtless well aware. And now, confound it, she’d lost her train of thought.
“So,” he said, with an affability that was just as disconcerting as his earlier menace, “your expert opinion is that I should marry a spinster who’s after my fortune?”
As so often happened, a laugh gurgled out of Serena at quite the wrong moment. “Perhaps I didn’t make the prospect sound honorable. Or tempting, for that matter. And I cannot approve such motives for an alliance.” A stance she was being forced to rethink, given that her sister’s marriage was one of convenience.
“Oh, well, if you don’t approve, I’d better not.” He leaned back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head, emphasizing the breadth of those shoulders.
“But, er...” What had she been saying? Oh, yes. “I believe—” she kept her eyes fixed firmly on his “—such convenient marriages can offer mutual benefits, and there’s every chance that over time, love would blossom.” She hurried on. “Besides, you really shouldn’t make spinsters sound like such a last resort. My aunt, Miss Jane Somerton, is both a spinster and very attractive. In fact, I could introduce you....”
“I’m acquainted with Miss Jane Somerton,” he said. “I have no wish to marry her.”
“Maybe you should stop thinking about what you wish, and think about what your children need,” Serena snapped. Drat. She braced herself for that forcible removal.
“Miss Somerton,” he growled. “If you don’t cease your impertinence this instant...”
“You’ll dismiss me?” she suggested. “Might I remind you, Mr. Granville, my sister’s marriage has put me in the position—rare for a governess—of having nothing to lose. While your children have everything to gain.”
Silence. Should she take that as victory?
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Miss Somerton...”
Merely regrouping, then. Serena braced herself.
“I don’t understand why you feel compelled to comment on my domestic arrangements, when you’re no longer employed here,” he said. “Nor why these outrageous views have come upon you so suddenly.”
He sounded so confused, she felt almost sorry for him. “I’ve felt this way since the day I arrived,” she admitted. “But until now, I’ve been more subtle in my approach.”
“You’ve been subtle?” he said incredulously.
“You possibly haven’t noticed that I’ve been extending the time you spend in your daily greetings and good-nights to the children.” She was rather proud of having stretched that stiff, formal five minutes to a whole seven minutes. Still stiff and formal, but one step at a time.
“How Machiavellian of you.” He appeared to be laughing at her.
“There are many fathers who spend a great deal of time with their children and find it very rewarding,” Serena said coolly. Her own papa was a perfect example, but she knew other families of Quality where the father enjoyed the company of his offspring.
“Again,” Granville said, “I wonder why you’ve taken it upon yourself to try to introduce me to their ranks.”
Maybe she should tell him at least part of the truth.
“Do you believe in second chances, Mr. Granville?”
“In theory,” he said guardedly. “Is there something else you need to confess?”
“I’m talking about you,” she said. “Your family has suffered loss, but you have a chance to build a loving home for your children. If only you’ll take it.”
“And you intend to force me to take this chance you’ve conjured up in your imagination?” He scowled. “If you must indulge your penchant for good works, Miss Somerton, I suggest you go home and feed the poor. Surely they’re in greater need of second, third and even fourth chances than I am.”
“The poor are well provided-for in Piper’s Mead,” she said. “My sister Isabel practically runs the orphanage, and Charity, my youngest sister, knits for the babies. Mama grows vegetables for the elderly—”
He held up a hand. “Your family can’t have such a monopoly on good works that there was nothing left for you but to travel all the way to Leicestershire to inflict a second chance on my family.”
“Of course not,” Serena said levelly. “I chose this position—” he blinked, as if he hadn’t realized she’d had a choice “—because I believe this is where I’m meant to be.” She knew in her head that she’d been forgiven the foolish mistake she’d made years ago. A mistake entirely unworthy of her upbringing, which would grieve her parents sorely if they knew of it. But in her heart, she despaired of receiving a second chance. If she could help the Granville family grasp their chance, then maybe God would send one her way.
“Grateful though I am for your efforts,” Dominic Granville said, “your assistance isn’t required. Let me remind you, to put your mind at rest before you depart, my children have an aunt right here in this house, who loves them very much and who, as I’ve said, will likely always be here with us.”
Serena hesitated. To speak bluntly about Marianne Granville seemed harsh, but... “If you’re suggesting Miss Granville will play a more active role in the children’s upbringing than she does now, you’re quite wrong.”
His mouth tightened. “I’m not suggesting anything to you at all. It’s none of your business.”
“Are you saying that when Hetty makes her come-out into society,” Serena persisted, “she will be chaperoned by your sister?”
He eyed her with hearty dislike. “Not necessarily. Hetty’s come-out is six or seven years away.”
“Will your loyalty to your wife vanish in that time?” she asked.
“Of course not.”
“Even if you