Читать книгу The Governess Heiress - Elizabeth Beacon - Страница 12

Chapter Five

‘Oh, do stop the carriage, Binley!’ Georgiana shouted before Nell could check her. ‘Good morning, Mr Moss.’

Nell managed a sickly smile for the man who had been haunting her dreams.

‘Good morning, Miss Georgiana, Miss Court,’ he said politely.

‘But we are keeping you standing in the rain, Mr Moss,’ Nell said in the hope he’d agree and hurry on without further ado.

‘A mere drizzle, Miss Court. We land stewards have to accustom ourselves to the whims of the English weather.’

Now why did she think he was mocking himself as much as her this time? ‘All the same it is another cold and dreary day—can we take you up as far as Brampton Village?’ she offered as politely as she could manage when she didn’t want to be shut in a closed carriage with him even for that long.

‘That is very kind, ma’am. My horse is being re-shod so it will save me a half-hour’s walk to collect him from the forge,’ the man said cheerfully and Nell bit back a protest she was being polite and didn’t mean it.

At least he sat with his back to the horses, but that meant she must look at him instead of feeling his muscular male limbs next to her and it was only marginally better. He had acquired more suitable clothes in the three days since he appeared out of the night to plague her. In practical leathers and countryman’s boots and coat he should be quite unremarkable, but somehow he was nothing of the sort. His linen was spotless and his plain waistcoat was cut by a master, but it wasn’t his clothes that made him stand out, it was the man underneath them. His masculine vitality seemed almost too big for a confined space and Nell felt she couldn’t even breathe without taking in more of him than she wanted to. And she didn’t want to, did she? Her doubts about that had been creeping into her dreams. Every morning she had to tell herself they were nightmares when she woke up with those fading rags of unthinkably erotic fantasies shaming her waking hours. How was she to look him in the face with the thought of them plaguing her with impossible things?

‘The others are sewing with Mrs Winch this morning,’ Georgiana informed him happily. ‘I share Maria Welland’s music lessons and Miss Court comes with me to have tea and a comfortable coze with Maria’s Miss Tweed while our teacher shouts at us in French.’

‘You unlucky creatures, no wonder the other Misses Selford prefer their embroidery frames.’

‘Lavinia has no ear for music; Madame says she would rather—’

‘Never mind her exact words, Georgiana,’ Nell interrupted hastily, having overheard the lady’s agonies before she’d declared Georgiana the only Selford girl with even the suggestion of a voice and refused to hear the others sing ever again.

‘I was only going to say she would rather teach cats to sing than Lavinia, Miss Court,’ Georgiana said with such mischief in her eyes that Nell would usually have to laugh, except she refused to do so in front of Mr Moss.

‘Well, don’t,’ she said crossly instead. ‘Lavinia can’t help being about as unmusical as possible without being tone deaf.’

‘I know and she does embroider exquisitely,’ Georgiana admitted. ‘She can paint far better than the rest of us as well. But that’s why we’re out and about on our own this morning, Mr Moss,’ she went on with an expectant look at him that said it was his turn to recite a list of engagements for the day.

‘I am engaged to meet several of your guardian’s tenant farmers at the market in Temple Barberry, so I shall have to hurry there as soon as my horse has his new shoe, Miss Georgiana,’ he replied obediently.

Contrarily, Nell felt excluded as they chatted about the market and how most farmers were gloomy about prospects for the harvest, whatever the weather. They conceded this was a very peculiar spring and this time they were right to be pessimistic. Being brought up in London, and then Bath, Nell had had to learn even to like the countryside when she first came here and she was the first to admit she didn’t know its ways and habits as well as her pupils. She felt like a town mouse as Georgiana and Mr Moss happily discussed the difficulty of sowing crops and getting them to grow when it was cold and the skies so grey nothing seemed likely to thrive. Sunshine was now needed to make it all work and Nell felt she might be withering for the lack of it herself by the time the carriage rolled into Brampton and pulled up at the smithy.

‘You seem unnaturally quiet this morning, Miss Court,’ Mr Moss observed as he gathered up his crop, hat and a leather case that must contain tenancy agreements or leases, or some such dry stuff it was as well not to be curious about.

‘I have nothing to say, Mr Moss. I am an urban creature and know little of agriculture and country lore.’

‘Then it was rude of me to bore you with them.’

‘Not in the least, sir. I hope I can still listen and learn as well as hold forth about what I do know.’

‘Then I shall send over one of the agricultural reports on this county for your further education, ma’am, since you want to know it better.’

‘Only if you are not using it, sir,’ she said coolly. She could imagine nothing more likely to send her to sleep so perhaps it would have its uses.

‘Oh, no, I’m a quick study when a topic interests me and the state of land is important. I suppose that’s one reason my wider family disapprove of me and mine,’ he said, then seemed to regret his frankness and his expression was closed and formal as he jumped down and gave them a fine bow, before waving goodbye to Georgiana and nodding stiffly at Nell as the carriage drove past on its way to the Wellands’ manor house. Why would a country squire regard his interest in the land as undesirable? Mr Moss might not be able to inherit the family acres, but not all younger sons were destined for the army, the navy or the church. Becoming a land steward was a perfectly respectable ambition in a gentleman of slender means. On a large estate like Berry Brampton the position was often filled by a junior line of the family who owned it. So why was Mr Moss so defensive about his chosen way of life?

* * *

By the time Brampton Village was behind them at least Georgiana had stopped speculating about Mr Moss and the reception he would get from the notoriously close-mouthed farming community, so that was a relief, wasn’t it? Hearing her most lively pupil shift her attention from the steward to what her friend Maria might have been about since they last met might make her head spin, but Miss Welland’s sayings and doings were a much safer subject and she let her pupil chatter on unchecked. It didn’t matter how well or badly the man got on with his family, he was here, at last, and Nell hoped the injustices and oddities Jenks had closed his eyes to on the estate would come to an end. Anyway, she could hardly condemn Moss for being so late to take up his post when she had deserted hers twice in the last year. Governess or not, responsible for the girls as she was with no resident guardian to look out for them when she was gone, nothing could have stopped Nell finding her brother after Waterloo and, six months later, attending his wedding to the love of his life. It had been a joyous marriage ceremony, despite the time of year and the rough weather and terrible roads. At last Colm had looked as joyous and carefree as a man of his age, birth and fortune ought to when he stood up so proudly to wed his unexpected bride. The last marriage in the world anyone would have predicted for the children of the Hancourt–Winterley scandal and there they both were, as shiningly happy as any couple Nell had ever met. It felt strange coming back here from Darkmere Castle and those bright celebrations to be Miss Court again and pretend nothing had changed. Until Mr Moss arrived she’d been plagued by a feeling this world seemed dangerously unstable after the bustle and common purpose in Lord Winterley’s northern heartland. If she left Berry Brampton House as her brother and sister-in-law wanted her to, what would become of the girls? Without a competent manager, the estate had been like a rudderless ship in these hard times. The war was over, but the whole country sometimes seemed about to plunge into chaos as they floundered from one crisis to the next. Now her worry about the lack of a strong man to keep all steady here was gone, she realised how uneasy she’d been before he arrived.

Mr Moss was an unlikely protector of a pack of schoolgirls, but he would still do it if he had to. The footmen and butler were tall and strong and the formidably respectable Mrs Winch gave the household gravitas, but nobody else had the status of my lord’s land steward. She didn’t have to like him for it, though. He had sat opposite her and talked to Georgiana of matters she didn’t understand, then offered to lend her a book. Well, she’d read the dratted thing if that would stop him doing it again. As for that habit he had of calling her ma’am—there might be more exasperating ways to address a lady not yet four and twenty, but she couldn’t currently think of any.

‘Mr Moss was right; you are quiet today, Miss Court. Do you have the headache?’ Georgiana asked as the carriage turned towards the next village and the Wellands’ neat manor house.

Not yet, Nell thought, but I soon will have if I brood about the impossible man for much longer. ‘No, but I couldn’t get a word in when you two were chattering nineteen to the dozen.’

‘Papa always said my tongue ran on wheels when we were little...’ She paused and looked out of the small carriage windows at the dull grey sky before sighing heavily. ‘I know I was only a child when he died, Miss Court, and I was so lucky my parents loved me and Caro, but will I ever stop missing them, do you think?’

‘Now that really is a hard question.’

‘I know I shouldn’t pry into the feelings of my elders, since you told me so, but do you still miss your mama and papa?’

‘At times; although my mama died when I was little more than a babe, so I don’t really remember her, and my father was more often away from home than in it during the last few years of his life. I do still miss him though, yes. I found it very hard to be parted from my brother when he was sent to school as well, so I’m glad you and Caroline are together and can share your feelings as well as your memories. Lavinia and Penny love you both as well, however little they choose to show it at times. I suppose the pressure on the heir to produce a boy was so strong in your family that Lavinia has always felt herself at a disadvantage and she is unsure of herself and a little jealous of those who seem to be more fortunate.’

‘I will remember that and try to make allowances, but you don’t like to talk about yourself, do you, Miss Court?’ Georgiana responded with a direct stare that made Nell feel she was the younger of them for once.

She had hoped nobody would notice her habit of turning the subject and not giving anything away about her past that she didn’t have to, but Georgiana was a lot more perceptive than most people realised. ‘I’m not a very interesting topic,’ she replied warily.

‘Now there you are quite wrong, Miss Court. Mr Moss finds you as much of a mystery as we Selfords do. All the time we were talking about farmers and cows and fields at least half his attention was fixed on you.’

‘No, it wasn’t. He thinks me an antidote and was very happy to talk to you this morning instead of me, so please don’t start imagining otherwise, Georgiana. Your matchmaking efforts are unwelcome at the best of times and Mr Moss would laugh himself hoarse if he could hear you now.’

‘Which would be very ungentlemanly of him, don’t you think? Although I doubt he would; he seems a kind man under that teasing manner of his.’

‘I don’t think we know him well enough to say if he is kindly or not yet, Georgiana, and if I did want more to do with the gentleman than I have to because we work for the same employer he’d be horrified. I doubt I ever came across a gentleman less likely to be in search of a wife than that one and I’m certainly not the woman to make him change his mind.’