Читать книгу The Cinderella Governess - Georgie Lee - Страница 12

Chapter Three

‘Luke and Frances Huntford. I wouldn’t have guessed it considering the way you used to talk about her when you were young.’ Charles Preston, Earl of Ingham laughed across the breakfast table at his younger son before rising to help himself to more eggs from the sideboard. ‘Can’t say I fancy being related to that brood, but if one of them gives me a grandson, I guess I won’t mind. The mother is quite capable of producing children. It bodes well for the daughters.’

Alma paled at the mention of Lady Huntford’s fecundity.

‘Charles, watch what you say,’ Lady Elizabeth Ingham chided as she motioned for the footman to pour her more coffee. ‘Especially since we might end up related to them.’

She winked at Luke, then lifted her coffee to her lips, hiding her teasing smile behind the steam.

‘I’m not interested in Miss Huntford.’ Luke sliced his ham into pieces.

‘You’d do well to have an interest in her. Her dowry could offset our losses from last year’s weak crop,’ Edward added from across the table.

‘I wouldn’t get your hopes up,’ Luke countered. ‘Sir Rodger won’t spend so much as a farthing to repair the roof over his head. I doubt he’ll give it away with his daughters. But since I’m not interested in her, it is a moot point.’

After the ball, Luke had done everything he could to forget his brief time with Miss Radcliff, but it hadn’t worked. Despite a vigorous ride this morning and a round of sparring with the groom, neither her vivid blue eyes, nor her kindness, had faded from his memory. To her, he hadn’t been the catch of the year, but simply Major Preston. He wanted to be Major Preston with her again, but he couldn’t. Courting a governess was as fanciful as hoping Napoleon would walk away from war.

‘If you weren’t interested in Miss Huntford, you should’ve let her return by herself instead of allowing the whole countryside to speculate about the two of you.’ His mother sipped her coffee with a sigh of relief, the late night telling in the dark circles beneath her eyes. ‘It could prove troublesome, especially while we’re guests for their house party.’

Luke and Edward groaned in unison.

‘Sir Rodger has the worst staff, especially the butler,’ Edward complained. ‘He has no grasp of how things are done. He’s surly, too.’

‘It’s because Sir Rodger doesn’t pay him enough.’ Luke imaged the pittance Miss Radcliff must be earning.

‘If the old miser is spending the money on a party, he must be desperate to get rid of Miss Huntford,’ Edward addressed Luke in a rare moment of fraternal solidarity.

After what Luke had witnessed last night, it wouldn’t surprise him.

‘The only reason we’re going is so Luke can look over the other young ladies. Otherwise, we wouldn’t bother,’ their father offered with uninspiring assurance.

‘I haven’t said I’ll go, but speaking of bother...’ Luke sat back from the table and pushed his plate away, determined to discuss the other subject which had kept him up most of the night ‘...I intend to call on Lord Helmsworth while I’m home. I’d like to arrange for another survey of the disputed boundary land, and, if it’s determined to be his, then to arrange a lease of it or the rights to the river. I think it’s time we end our feud with him.’

The silence which answered his announcement echoed through the room. Everyone stared down the table at him as if he’d suggested they catch the plague.

Edward’s glare was especially sharp. ‘You think you’ll stroll into Helmsworth Manor and after twenty years he’ll deed us the land with the river simply because you asked him to?’

‘It’s worth a try.’ Luke trilled his fingers on the table, struggling to remain calm. He needed more to do in the country than search for a wife. Settling the old land dispute was it. He hadn’t thought the idea would receive such a hostile response. ‘We need the water to irrigate the west field. Without it, we can’t expect to have a profitable enough harvest next year to cover our losses from this one.’

‘I’m well aware of what we need, more so than you.’ Edward pointed his knife at him. The conflict between them had returned with Luke from Spain with a vengeance. Except this time it was different. He and his brother were more equal now than in the past and Edward didn’t like it any more than Luke did. ‘This isn’t school. You needn’t try and outdo everyone.’

‘You were the only one I ever outdid and only because it was so easy.’ Luke speared a piece of ham and stuck it in his mouth with a smugness he didn’t feel. In the heat of more than one battle, when he thought he wouldn’t come home again, he’d longed to end the old rivalry between him and Edward. Now he was here and all he could do was argue with him. It wasn’t right, but he seemed powerless to put an end to it.

Alma exchanged a troubled glance with their mother, who flapped a silencing hand at her sons. ‘Boys, it’s too early for this. If Luke wishes to try to settle the dispute, then he may. After all, it’s cheaper to pay a surveyor than a solicitor and if it benefits us, then good. In the meantime, we must make a decision about the Huntford house party. Edward, will you and Alma attend?’

‘We will if you want us to.’ Alma set her fork aside, her food hardly touched. The circles under her eyes were far darker than they should have been, even after a late night. She rose and made for the door. ‘If you’ll excuse me.’

‘I’d better see to her.’ Edward stood, his square chin stiff in the air as he marched to the door. He matched Luke in height, but had their mother’s hazel eyes and their father’s black hair. ‘I wouldn’t want anyone accusing me of failing as both a husband and an heir.’

Once he was gone, Luke’s mother shook her head. ‘Alma tries so hard to be brave and I tell her not to worry. Since we have you, there’s no reason to despair.’

Luke resisted groaning at having his value to the line stated so plainly. He rose, the tiff with Edward, as well as the memory of Miss Radcliff and the sleep it had stolen from him, crawling under his skin as much as his change of situation. Luke wasn’t likely to ever be the earl, and he didn’t want to inherit if it meant his father and Edward’s deaths, but he wasn’t sure he wished to foist the responsibility for Pensum Manor’s future on some unsuspecting son either. He’d seen the demands it had made on his family and the way it had treated him. It wasn’t something to envy. ‘I’m riding over to visit Lord Helmsworth.’

‘Luke, say you’ll come to the house party.’ His mother reached up and laid a hand on his arm. ‘You don’t know how much I want to be a grandmother, to have Pensum Manor filled with the giggles of small children as when you and your brother were small.’

He was amazed she could remember the laughter and forget the awful rows he and his brother used to have. Time hadn’t made them less intense, only more chilling.

‘All right, I’ll go.’ He’d rather spend time in a French prison than with the Huntford girls, but visiting them would allow him to make sure Miss Radcliff was well and Miss Huntford was upholding her end of the agreement.

He left the dining room and made for the stables. He shouldn’t concern himself with the welfare of a governess, but he hadn’t allowed any of the weaker men in his regiment to be bullied by fellow soldiers or even officers. He wouldn’t leave a poor governess to suffer under an indifferent, if not hostile employer. Nor would he allow anyone’s prejudices to stop him from coming to know her better. He couldn’t pursue her, but there was no reason why they couldn’t be friends.

* * *

‘Major Preston is coming here?’ Frances wailed from across the breakfast table after her mother made the announcement.

He’ll be here. Joanna stared down at the scuff mark on the toe of her half-boot to hide the flush creeping over her cheeks. She unclasped her hands from in front of her and allowed them to dangle by her sides. It shouldn’t matter to her if Major Preston was coming or not. His doings were not her concern, but the news made standing still difficult.

She waited behind her three other charges for them to finish their food so their lessons could begin. Since the family ignored her at breakfast, and most of the day, her worry quickly passed. She could drop dead of the pox behind them and they weren’t likely to notice.

‘All of the Inghams are coming.’ Lady Huntford didn’t look up from her morning correspondence, taking little note of Frances’s distress. Her blonde curls, like her daughter’s, were tight beside her full cheeks and small eyes. Bearing six children had made her stout, but not fat, and her lack of interest in anything besides gossip and dresses gave her wide face a perpetually bored appearance. ‘I thought you’d be pleased—after all, you were with him for some time last night.’

‘I wasn’t with him.’ Frances all but pounded her thighs in frustration.

This was enough to make Lady Huntford finally put down her letter and look at her daughter. ‘Then what were you two doing in the hallway?’

Frances looked to Joanna, who dropped her gaze to the back of the chair in front of her, noticing a chip in the finish. The chit didn’t deserve her help. Her silence meant Frances was forced to invent her own excuses for her mother.

‘We were talking. Miss Radcliff and I had stepped out for some air and he happened upon us. We discussed, uh, well, it was—what were we discussing, Miss Radcliff?’ Frances appealed to the woman she’d declared her enemy for her salvation.

You acting like a harlot with Lieutenant Foreman.

‘His return from Spain.’ It galled Joanna to use her private conversation with him to defend Frances instead of telling Lady Huntford the truth. She doubted how much good speaking up would do anyway. Lady Huntford would probably blame her favourite daughter’s misguided attempt at romance on Joanna.

‘Of course, I forgot he was telling us about Spain,’ Frances rushed. ‘An awful topic.’

‘I don’t imagine you’ll be forced to discuss it much with him since he’s resigned his commission.’ Lady Huntford sniffed before turning in her seat to face Joanna. ‘I noticed you were speaking a great deal with him. What were you thinking dominating so much of his time?’

‘He approached me, Lady Huntford, and asked about Frances.’ Joanna hoped she wasn’t struck down for lying. ‘I answered his many questions about her.’

Lady Huntford’s eyes widened. ‘What an unexpected surprise. You should have told me about it at once and not kept it a secret. You’ll do no such thing in the future, do you understand?’

‘Yes, Lady Huntford.’ It seemed Frances wasn’t the only one to be nearly caught out this morning. Joanna glanced at the young lady who frowned into her plate. The two of them hadn’t been alone together since they’d left the ball last night. In fact, Frances had all but avoided Joanna, upholding her end of the bargain with Major Preston. His threat would be more potent while he was here, sleeping in a room below Joanna’s, eating at this very table, walking the halls where she might glimpse his confident stance and dominating eyes.

Stop thinking about him!

Lady Huntford fixed on her eldest daughter, her voice snapping Joanna out of her daydream. ‘It appears we have even more reason for you to try and impress him.’

‘I don’t see why. He’s only the second son and it could be years before he inherits, if he does at all. A woman might waste her life waiting for nothing.’ Frances crossed her arms over her chest in a huff.

Joanna balled her hands into fists at her sides, her nails biting into her palms. After last night, and the quick way Major Preston had defended her, Frances should be grateful. Joanna would give her eye teeth to be able to speak freely with him. All Frances could do was cast him aside and pout over her rake of a lieutenant. Her behaviour disgusted Joanna, but she buried it deep down, afraid it would show in what she did or said. Her one consolation was Major Preston having seen Frances’s true personality. She doubted a man as honourable as he would take a genuine interest in a woman like Frances. Though if he didn’t, why had he accepted the invitation? Lady Huntford had lamented the lack of a response from the Inghams for days. Joanna wondered what had changed his mind and if it had something to do with her.

Of course not. She was nothing to no one. Not even her mother or father, who’d cast her on the charity of Madame Dubois instead of raising her themselves, had wanted her. It was foolish to think the second son of an earl would defy his parents’ and society’s expectations to woo her. His concern for her well-being last night had been a fluke, like Catherine completing her French lessons without an argument yesterday. While Major Preston was staying at Huntford Place, he wasn’t likely to be kind or attentive to Joanna, but to ignore her like everyone else did. There was no reason for him to behave differently when there’d be so many other eligible ladies here to hold his attention.

Lady Huntford gathered up her correspondence and beckoned her eldest daughter to follow her. ‘Come along, we must choose the gowns you’ll wear. We can’t waste this opportunity.’

‘What about me? Can I attend the house party?’ Catherine sat up straighter in her chair in eager anticipation.

‘Of course not. You’re not out yet.’

‘Even if you were, he isn’t likely to favour you,’ Frances sneered at her sister as she trudged after their mother.

Catherine slumped over her breakfast, struggling to hold back tears. Unlike her sister, Catherine had her father’s dark hair and long face with thin lips which seemed perpetually fixed in a downtrodden frown. Her one blessing was lacking the petty streak which permanently marred her older sister’s personality and beauty. At eighteen, Frances was only two years older than Catherine. Given their closeness in age they should have been friends, but Frances’s churlish nature, and Catherine’s more retiring one, discouraged it.

The grand clock in the entrance hall began to chime nine times.

‘Come, girls, it’s time for your French lesson,’ Joanna urged, feeling sorry for Catherine and wanting to distract her from her sister’s insults with activity.

‘I’m too old to be hustled into the schoolroom by a governess.’ Catherine’s defiance weakened Joanna’s pity.

Anne, the blonde seven-year-old, turned around and stuck her tongue out at Joanna. ‘We’ll tell you when it’s time for our lessons.’

Ava, her twin sister, ignored Joanna and continued to eat her half-burned toast.

Joanna stared at the back of their three heads and the bows wound through their curls. The twins were no better behaved or obedient than their eldest sister. She wondered how she would get them to the schoolroom when, to her surprise, it was their father who interceded.

‘Girls, get up at once and stop being contrary,’ he commanded as he strolled into the room, his large, black hunting dog muddying the carpet as it trotted beside him.

With deep pouts the girls shoved away from the table and stood up to form something of a straight line in front of Joanna.

‘That’s how you command charges, Miss Radcliff,’ Sir Rodger tossed at Joanna as he took his place at the head of the now-empty table. ‘One would think you’d have learned such things at that school of yours.’

Joanna’s cheeks burned at the insulting rebuke and the sniggering it elicited from the girls. After their father’s public reprimand, they’d be even more difficult to deal with once they got back to the schoolroom.

Gruger, the withered old butler, shuffled in and tossed the London newspaper down beside his employer’s plate with no attempt at ceremony. Sir Rodger didn’t correct the surly man with the pocked and wrinkled face, but picked up the paper and snapped it open in front of his face. Gruger shuffled out, mumbling insults about the cook under his breath.

‘Come along.’ Joanna led the girls upstairs to another day of fighting to get them to obey her and to do their work. With each step up the curving staircase in need of a polish, past the maids gossiping while the ashes remained in the fireplaces, she wished she could slip off to her room and pour out her heart to Rachel, or Grace or Isabel like she used to do at the school. It wasn’t likely anyone would notice her not working since half the staff hid in corners and shirked their duties, but what they did or didn’t do wasn’t her concern. Her pride in her work and her responsibility for the girls was what mattered and she would see to them, even if it proved as difficult as shooing Farmer Wilson’s cow out of Madame Dubois’s garden.

The single comfort she found in the long trudge down the halls kept dark to save on candles was the knowledge Major Preston would soon be here. While they crossed the second floor and made for the steep and unadorned third-floor stairs, her excitement faded. He wasn’t coming to visit her, and even if he was she had no interest in a dalliance which might result in a child as Grace’s had done. After the way he’d assisted her last night, she doubted he’d be anything but well behaved around her. Still, the strange feeling in her chest at the memory of him beside her at the ball made her wary. It wasn’t so much his weakness she worried about, but her own. She’d already made one mistake in talking to him at Pensum Manor and allowing his kindness and humour to make her forget herself in a room full of people. She feared what might happen between the two of them during some chance meeting in a darkened hallway.

Nothing will happen. She was too sensible of her place and all Miss Fanworth’s old warnings about gentlemen to be corrupted by a man’s fine words. She would do her duty and if she found herself alone with him, she’d smile, nod and continue on her way, no matter how much she wanted him to flatter and protect her as he had at the ball.