Damon thought of the little governess in her dull clothes with her soft brown hair braided so modestly around her head.

He sipped his wine, imagining the girl in an evening gown. Silk, he thought. It would cling to her slender body. And emerald-green, to match her eyes, eyes that could suddenly gleam with mischief. He gave himself a little mental shake.

“No, I’ve no interest there. It has never been my way to tamper with innocents, or raise false hopes.”

was born in the West Country and now lives in an old farmhouse on the edge of the Pennines with her husband and family. Born in Bristol, Sarah left grammar school at sixteen to work in companies as varied as stockbrokers, marine engineers, insurance brokers, biscuit manufacturers and even a quarrying company. Her first book was published shortly after the birth of her daughter. She has published more than a dozen books under the pen name of Melinda Hammond, winning the Reviewers’ Choice Award in 2005 from Singletitles.com for Dance for a Diamond, and the Historical Novel Society’s Editors’ Choice in November 2006 for Gentlemen in Question.

More Than a Governess #233

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To Terry,

my rock and inspiration

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Juliana Wrenn thought she had rarely entered a more uninviting chamber than cousin Pettigrew’s drawing room in Bouverie Street. Unpolished panelling, dark hangings and dull green paint on the ceiling seemed to swallow up the sunlight that was valiantly fighting its way through the dirty windows. She felt a little hand gripping her fingers and looked down, summoning up a smile.

‘Are you cold, Amy? I am sure Cousin Pettigrew will not keep us waiting much longer.’

Her little sister hugged her rag doll closer.

‘I want to go home!’ she whimpered.

Juliana sat down on a worn sofa and pulled the little girl on to her lap.

‘You know we can’t do that, love. We must see if Cousin Alfred can help us.’ She smiled up at her younger brother, a stout twelve-year-old who was hovering beside them.

‘Come and sit down, Tom.’

‘I would rather go back to the kitchen,’ said Thomas, thinking of the fruitcake he had left behind when they had been summoned upstairs.

At that moment the door opened, and the three of them jumped to their feet, their eyes fixed on the florid-faced, bewhiskered gentleman who came in.

Juliana gave him her best curtsy.

‘Good afternoon, Cousin. Thank you for seeing us.’

Alfred Pettigrew advanced into the room, stripping off his gloves and dropping them, together with his silver-topped malacca cane, on to a side table.

‘Yes, well, I have just got in—had to carry out the reading of a will in Mount Street. I gather you have been here all morning?’

‘Yes, sir. We asked if we might wait for you and your housekeeper, Mrs Churwell, kindly looked after us.’

‘She gave us cake, and a glass of milk,’ added Amy and was nudged by Thomas, who hissed at her to be quiet. Juliana ignored the interruption.

‘I wrote to you, Cousin.’

‘Aye, you did, and I responded, did I not? Even more, I paid for your father’s funeral, and saw to the settlement of his affairs for you.’

‘Yes, sir, and we are very grateful. But that was three weeks ago, and circumstances have changed.’ She hesitated, for the first time losing some of her self-assurance. ‘The bailiffs called yesterday and removed everything, and Mr Crewe, the landlord, said he had already let the rooms, so we had to leave this morning.’

Mr Pettigrew looked at her.

‘And what am I supposed to do with you?’

‘We were hoping—that is…’ Juliana took a deep breath. ‘We need somewhere to stay. It need only be for a short time, until I can find employment—’

He gave an impatient snort.

‘And what sort of employment could you find, miss, that would allow you to support the three of you?’

She drew herself up, her hands clasped in front of her rather shabby pelisse.

‘Well, Cousin, I was thinking that if you could advance me a small sum, I could find a house for us and earn a living as a tutor. I am very good at French and Italian, and could possibly do a little translation, too…’

‘Out of the question!’ He waved a hand impatiently. ‘Why, I would not see my money again for many a year, if ever.’

Juliana closed her lips firmly, quelling her retort. It was common knowledge that Alfred Pettigrew was a rich man, but it was equally well known that he was not a generous one. She had seen enough of the house to convince her that he was indeed what her father would have called a nip-farthing. She sighed. It was not a charge that could be laid at Papa’s door.

‘Well, then, what are we to do, Cousin Alfred?’ asked Thomas. ‘You are the only relative we have.’

‘You have no need to remind me of that.’ Mr Pettigrew scowled and his heavy jowls shook with disapproval. ‘That my cousin Wrenn should leave his affairs in such disorder, with no means of support for the three of you—unforgivable.’

He paced the room while three pairs of eyes watched anxiously. At length he stopped.

‘Very well. I’ll tell you what I will do. I will send you all to Hinton Slade, my house in Devon. My mother lives there; she is not in the best of health and would welcome a companion, I am sure. That way, Miss Juliana, you can earn your keep. Thomas can help out in the stables and young Amy there can train as a lady’s maid.’

Juliana looked at him in horror.

‘But what about their schooling?’

‘Tush, a boy of twelve doesn’t need schooling. He is better earning his living. And as for the young ’un, well, you can teach her all she needs in your spare time.’

Juliana looked down at her siblings, fighting the urge to take their hands and walk out of Cousin Alfred’s house. Instead she said calmly, ‘That is very kind of you, Cousin. Perhaps you would allow me a few days to consider the matter?’

‘Don’t see there’s anything to consider.’ His lip curled. ‘Unless you have had any better offers?’

‘No, but I would like to make a few enquiries.’ She tried a winning smile. ‘Please, Cousin, may we impose upon your generosity for a few days? I promise you we will be in no one’s way.’

‘Of course you will be in the way! This is a bachelor establishment—it would be most improper for you to be here.’

‘Not if we kept to the servants’ rooms, sir. Mrs Churwell told me that she was obliged to dismiss one of the kitchen-maids, so the three of us could sleep in her room for a few nights. We would be most discreet.’ Remembering the housekeeper’s advice on dealing with the master, she added, ‘I’m sure Mrs Churwell would be grateful for a little help now she’s one girl short in the kitchen.’

She held her breath. Mr Pettigrew frowned at the carpet, puffing out his cheeks. Amy moved restlessly from one foot to the other and Juliana put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

‘Very well, you can stay, but only for a few days. I can’t have the three of you eating me out of house and home. If you’ve found nothing in a se’ennight, then it’s off to Devon with you.’

‘Oh, thank you, sir!’ Juliana beamed at him. ‘We will be no trouble, I promise you. You will not even know we are in the house.’

Juliana hurried Amy and Thomas back to the kitchens where the housekeeper was waiting for them.

‘Well, miss?’ she asked. ‘It must be good news or you would be out the door by now.’

Juliana smiled. ‘We can stay, and I can help you with the maid’s work until you find a replacement.’

‘Aye, I guessed that would sway him,’ Mrs Churwell tutted. ‘Miserable old skinflint, and him with more money than he knows what to do with.’

‘He did say we could go and live with Aunt Pettigrew,’ said Thomas, brightening when he found his half-eaten cake was still on the table.

The footman, sitting in one corner blacking his shoes, gave a derisive snort.

‘Ha! She’s worse than the master. You’d work your fingers to the bone for that one and not a penny would you get for it. I had a cousin as was groom there for a while, until he joined the army to fight the French. Said he preferred to face Boney himself than old Mrs P.’

‘Aye, Lawrence is right,’ agreed Mrs Churwell, shaking her head. ‘The Pettigrews is a miserly family and no mistake.’

‘And that makes it all the more imperative that I find employment,’ said Juliana, sinking down into a chair by the table.

‘Well, that’s a problem for the morrow,’ replied Mrs Churwell comfortably. ‘Poor dear, I dare swear you have had no end of worry these past few weeks. Now you sit and rest, dearie, and these two youngsters can make themselves useful by shelling peas for dinner.’

Later that afternoon Juliana put on her best walking dress of holly green with its matching bonnet and set off for Burlington Street. She was fortunate that the rain had stopped, but it remained overcast, and a chill wind stung her cheeks. Following Lawrence’s directions, she found herself staring up at an imposing double-fronted façade. For a moment her courage failed her. Then, squaring her shoulders, she marched up to the front door and knocked loudly.

‘Oh, come along, Juliana Wrenn,’ she muttered to herself. ‘He can’t eat you, after all.’

A liveried footman admitted her to the house and showed her into a small study on the ground floor while he went off to carry her message to his master.

Too nervous to sit down, she stood in the middle of the room and looked about her. The walls were lined with oak panels from floor to ceiling in the same manner as her cousin’s drawing room, but there all similarity between the two houses ended. The panelling in Major Collingham’s study gleamed and several lively hunting scenes hung on the walls. She was just wondering if any of the figures depicted could be the master of the house when a deep voice sounded behind her, making her jump.

‘You wished to see me, madam?’

‘Oh—I did not hear you come in!’

‘I am sorry if I startled you,’ responded the Major, sounding not a whit remorseful.

Juliana looked at him. In her cousin’s hallway she had only seen the back of his head. Now, staring up into the harsh, unsmiling face, her spirits began to fade. He was very tall, and dressed with military precision—there was nothing of the dandy about him, she noted with approval; the long limbs encased in buff-coloured pantaloons and black boots hinted rather at the athlete. His blue coat fitted perfectly about his broad shoulders and the crisp whiteness of his shirt and cravat enhanced his dark complexion, tanned by years in the sun—she knew he had been a soldier, and guessed he had seen action in the Peninsula. His bearing was upright and looked as solid and unyielding as his countenance. His voice, when he spoke again, was tinged with impatience.

‘Well, madam, what can I do for you?’

‘I—I came because—because you require a governess.’

Her words came out in a rush.

‘Then it is my secretary, Brasher, you should see. I made it quite clear in the advertisement.’

He turned to go.

‘Oh, I have not seen the advertisement—and it is you I wish to see, Major Collingham.’

He stopped and turned to face her.

‘Not seen the—then how the devil…?’

His frown was not encouraging, but she screwed up her courage—she must do this for Thomas and Amy’s sake.

‘I am a cousin of Mr Pettigrew, the lawyer. I overheard your conversation with him this morning, about requiring a governess urgently. It—it is a fortunate circumstance for you, sir, that I am looking for just such a post.’

‘I see. Well, if that is the case, I am of course delighted that you have come, but my secretary can handle the details—’

‘But I do not wish to talk to your secretary, Major.’ She swallowed. ‘I—I want to talk to you about my terms.’

The Major raised his black brows.

‘Terms?’

‘Yes.’ She drew a breath and put up her chin. ‘I believe you require a governess to take up the post immediately, sir. Well, I am free to do that, upon condition.’

The Major stared at her. Juliana returned his gaze steadily, praying that he could not hear the rapid thudding of her heart. His countenance relaxed a little.

‘I see this is not going to be the work of a moment.’ He moved to his desk. ‘Pray will you not be seated, miss…?’

‘Miss Wrenn, Major.’ She sat down on the edge of the chair, facing him.

‘Well, Miss Wrenn, it is true that I am in need of a governess, but, as the employer, I was of the opinion that it was my place to set the conditions.’

She did not flinch from his hard gaze. Mrs Churwell had told her to have faith in herself, and she must do just that.

‘In the normal course of events, yes, but you do not appear to be having much success; you told my cousin you would pay a king’s ransom for a governess who could—ah—stay the course was your term, I think?’

He laughed suddenly, and the rather harsh lines of his face softened into something much more attractive.

‘Quite right, Miss Wrenn, I did. Very well, why do you think you would suit my requirements?’

‘Because I have had an excellent education, I am used to dealing with children and can teach them all the usual accomplishments of reading, writing, a little arithmetic and geography, the use of globes; my French and Italian are very good, I play the pianoforte and the harp, I paint and draw, I am a skilled needlewoman and—’

‘And you are desperate for employment.’

She blinked.

‘You do not deny it, Miss Wrenn.’

‘No, sir.’ She looked him in the eye and said with more confidence that she was feeling, ‘But I have imp—impeccable credentials.’

He sat back, folding his arms across his chest and fixing her with a hard stare.

‘You are very young for such a post.’

‘I am one-and-twenty, sir.’

‘What is your experience?’

She clasped her hands in her lap.

‘I was educated in a select seminary in Clapham until I was seventeen years old, and had some teaching of the younger girls while I was there. I learned all the usual accomplishments, and was especially good at languages—a gift from my father, I think. My mother’s demise made it necessary for me to come home and for the past four years I have had the care of my brother and sister.’

‘And what has changed, that you must now seek employment?’

She looked down at her hands. It was not easy to admit her straitened circumstances to a stranger, but it must be done. ‘My father died a month since and all his effects were seized to pay his debts. That is why we are staying with my cousin, until I can find a way to support us all.’

‘And how old are your brother and sister?’

‘My brother is twelve years old, sir. My sister just nine.’ She looked up at the Major, but his face was impassive. She said, with a touch of defiance, ‘I am not looking for sympathy, sir.’

‘I have offered you none. You have been very frank, Miss Wrenn, so let me be equally open with you. I am a widower and have been so for the past eight years. My three children have been in the care of my mother—their grandmother—in Hampshire. Unfortunately, my mother died twelve months ago. Bonaparte had just escaped from Elba and it was impossible for me to leave my regiment at that time, so my sister took the children in; she lives nearby with her own young family. After Waterloo I was eager to settle my affairs and return to England, but it took me until a few months ago to complete my duties and get away.’ He paused and sat forward, resting his arms on the desk. ‘While in the care of my sister, my daughters were taught in the schoolroom with their young cousins, but I was naturally desirous to have the children with me, so I moved them back into Kewhurst, their old home, with a governess to look after them while I completed my business prior to taking them all to Lancashire. To date, as you pointed out to me, Miss Wrenn, I have been singularly unsuccessful in my choice of staff. The first governess lasted less than a week and left the house claiming that the place was haunted. The second I turned off when I discovered her addiction to strong liquor. The third, well, I thought she was settled, so I came on to London to put my affairs in order. I sent for the children to join me, and instead of the governess, they came with their aunt and their old nurse, and the information that the governess had discharged herself.’

‘Oh…dear.’

‘As you say, Miss Wrenn, oh dear.’

‘How old are your daughters, Major?’

‘Gwendoline is twelve years old, and Wilhelmina is eight. They are quite normal, Miss Wrenn—high spirited, perhaps, but not demons.’

‘I do not doubt it. But you said you have three children, sir?’

‘Yes. My son, Giles, is fifteen years old and for the past few years has been under the tutelage of a learned reverend. When I arrived in Hampshire I discovered that this gentleman has accepted a much more attractive position as bear-leader to a young gentleman embarking upon the Grand Tour. However, Giles need not concern you; once we are settled in the north, I will engage another tutor for him.’

‘You said you are leaving town at the end of next week?’

‘Yes, on Friday. I have property in Lancashire that requires my attention. I want the governess to travel with us, and to take charge of the children on the journey.’ Again Juliana found that harsh stare fixed upon her. ‘After what you have heard, are you still eager for this position, Miss Wrenn?’

She sat up and adopted her most businesslike tone.

‘I think it would suit very well, sir, if we can agree terms.’

‘Miss Wrenn, I hardly think you are in a position to make demands….’

‘Then we need discuss this no further.’ She rose. ‘Let me see, today is Saturday, your advertisement should be published on Monday, at the earliest. No doubt your secretary is very efficient; if he interviews the candidates quickly, I suppose it might be possible to engage a suitable person in time to travel on Friday, assuming he has received suitable references, of course…’

He held up his hand.

‘Very well, Miss Wrenn, you have made your point. Can you supply me with suitable references?’

‘I am sure Mr Pettigrew will vouch for my character, and you may apply to Miss Shaftesbury at the Academy in Clapham. As to my education, you can test me, if you so wish.’

‘No, I do not so wish!’ he growled at her. ‘Pray sit down again, madam, and tell me these terms of yours.’

Resuming her seat, she gave him a beaming smile.

‘They are not really so outrageous. I will engage to look after the children, Major Collingham, and educate them for the next four months, that is, to the end of September. I would like you to pay me a lump sum at the end of that time.’

‘How much?’

Juliana took a deep breath and named her price.

‘What?’

She winced, but held her ground.

‘You said you were willing to pay a king’s ransom for this service, sir; I think you will agree that it is hardly that, but it would be sufficient for me to rent a little house in, say, Harrogate or Bath, and support my family by teaching. That is all I ask, Major.’

There was no more she could say. Juliana forced herself to sit still while the Major stared at her, his fingers drumming on the desk top. The remuneration she was asking was high, but discreet enquiries of her cousin had convinced her that the Major could afford twice that sum. Now she only needed to hold her nerve. She smiled to herself; perhaps she had something of her father’s gambling spirit after all. At last he spoke.

‘Very well. I will have Brasher draw up an agreement today.’

She found she had been holding her breath, for it now came out in a long sigh.

‘Thank you, sir. I will not disappoint you.’

‘I trust you will not. I shall make sure you do not get a penny if you do not keep your side of this bargain. One more thing. What do you propose to do with your siblings for the next four months?’

She hesitated.

‘I am hoping to persuade my cousin—’

He shook his head.

‘Pettigrew is a lawyer and a bachelor. I’d wager he knows less than I do about children. You had best bring them with you. They will be companions for Gwen and Minna on the journey, and there will be plenty of room for them at Blackthorpe.’

‘Th-thank you.’

He stood up and came round the desk towards her.

‘Then let us shake hands upon it, and I will send for the children.’

Juliana rose and put out her hand. As he took her fingers in his strong grip she looked up into his face and wondered how she had ever managed to bargain with such a man. At close range he was even more intimidating. His eyes were as hard as granite; his countenance bleak and unforgiving. Dangerous. But even as she began to wonder if perhaps she had made a mistake, she saw a gleam of amusement in his grey eyes.

He said, ‘Now what are you thinking, Miss Wrenn?’

She did not even consider prevaricating.

‘That you would make an implacable enemy, sir.’

His grip on her hand tightened.

‘True. But I am also a very good friend. Which would you have, Miss Wrenn?’

Juliana could not break away from his gaze. A small voice in her head was warning that he should not be asking her such a question. She swallowed and tried to answer calmly.

‘Neither. I look only for a fair employer.’

He stared at her, a faint crease in his brows. Juliana looked down at his hand, still holding her own. Abruptly he released her and walked towards the window saying,

‘I—um—I plan to marry—when we arrive in Lancashire: a neighbour’s daughter, widow. There is an arrangement between the families. It has long been agreed. My wife will, of course, take over arrangements for the girls’ education.’

‘Then why not wait until you get to Lancashire to employ a governess?’

Even as the words tumbled out, Juliana wished them unsaid; she had signed no contract yet, and she did not want him to change his mind. The Major did not hesitate over his reply.

‘I had considered that, but their nurse is far too old to have sole control of the children on such a long journey.’

Juliana’s evil genius prompted her to play devil’s advocate once more.

‘But—forgive me—did you not say you will be travelling together, as a party?’

He turned to look at her, his brows raised in surprise, and just for a moment she thought there was a shade of unease upon those harsh features.

‘I know nothing of the needs of young girls,’ he said shortly. ‘If it was only Giles, I should not hesitate. As it is—’ He broke off. ‘I shall summon the girls to meet you.’

He strode over to the door, barking his orders to a lackey.

Moments later, two little figures trooped into the room.

‘Goodness, that was very prompt!’ exclaimed Juliana, smiling at the Misses Collingham.

They were dressed in identical redingotes of claretcoloured wool with matching bonnets. The eldest girl raised her eyes, so like her father’s, and looked directly at Juliana.

‘We were waiting in the hall for Aunt Louisa, Papa.’ She addressed the Major, although she kept her eyes upon Juliana. ‘She is taking us for a drive in the park.’

‘Well, I shall not keep you long.’ Major Collingham beckoned them to come forward. ‘I want to make you known to your new governess. Gwendoline…’ He paused as the older of the two children bobbed a curtsy.

Juliana curtsied back.

‘How do you do, Miss Collingham?’

‘Gwendoline was twelve years old last month,’ said the Major. ‘And this is Wilhelmina.’ He nodded at the smaller child, who stepped forward and bobbed, saying as she did so,

‘And I’m eight.’

‘Indeed?’ marvelled Juliana. ‘You are very grown up for eight, I think. I am very pleased to meet you both.’

‘Miss Wrenn will be joining us next week,’ said the Major. ‘You will have your first lesson with her at two o’clock on Monday—yes, Miss Wrenn, did you say something?’

‘So—so soon,’ stammered Juliana. ‘I thought we should get to know one another first.’

‘If that is what you wish to do, Miss Wrenn, I have no objection, as long as you do it in the schoolroom.’

‘And out of the way, Major?’ she murmured, bringing that frowning stare upon her again.

Whatever retort the Major was about to make was interrupted as the door opened and a tall woman in a rose-pink pelisse erupted into the room.

‘Damon, do you have the girls here? I was about to take them out.’

‘The children are here, Louisa, dressed and ready for you. I was introducing them to their new governess. This is Miss Wrenn—my sister, Lady Varley.’

Juliana found herself subjected to a head-to-toe scrutiny and forced herself not to fidget. Her walking dress might not be as stylish as Lady Varley’s fine wool pelisse, and one small ostrich feather could not compete with the three nodding plumes that adorned Lady Varley’s high-crowned bonnet, but she knew her simple attire was perfectly suited to a young lady of modest means, and more than adequate for a governess. Lady Varley seemed to agree, for she gave a nod of approval.

‘So, Damon, you have found someone already. How clever of you.’

The Major’s lips curved up slightly.

‘It would be more accurate to say that Miss Wrenn found me.’

Lady Varley waved one pink-gloved hand.

‘Whatever the case, it would seem that I need not take the children out with me after all.’ She paused, glancing down at the two little faces looking up at her. ‘But they are dressed now, so I suppose I must. Come along, then. The carriage is at the door and you know your father does not like to keep his horses standing!’

She hurried the children out of the room, turning at the door to say, ‘We shall not be too long, Damon. I have to stop off at Madame Fleurie’s to look at the new muslin she had brought in for me and then I shall take the girls for a quick turn around the park, to give them an airing before dinner.’

‘You must not mind my sister, Miss Wrenn,’ remarked the Major as the door closed upon the little party. ‘She felt obliged to come to London with the children when their governess walked out. She has not yet forgiven me.’

‘That was very good of her; some aunts might have considered it sufficient to send the children with a servant.’

‘Ah, but then I would not have felt obliged to pay for the gowns she has ordered from Madame Fleurie.’

Juliana was surprised into a laugh, which she quickly stifled—levity was not becoming in a governess. She should take her leave. As if reading her mind, Major Collingham walked to the door.

‘Very well, Miss Wrenn. I will send my carriage to Bouverie Street on Monday morning at, say, eleven o’clock. You will bring your brother and sister with you. I shall have rooms prepared for your arrival.’

‘Thank you, sir. You are very good.’

‘No, it is a business arrangement. My man will have the contract ready for you to sign when you arrive.’ He bent that hard gaze upon her again. ‘I shall expect you to earn your money, Miss Wrenn.’

She met his gaze squarely.

‘I expect nothing less of you, Major Collingham.’

‘Well, what do you think of her?’ Wilhelmina whispered to her sister as Lady Varley gave her instructions to the driver. Gwendoline wrinkled her nose.

‘Miss Sevenoaks was much prettier, except when she had been drinking too much, then her face became very red.’

‘Well, I think she’s pretty,’ replied Wilhelmina. ‘And she had kind eyes.’

Gwendoline gave her a nudge as their aunt climbed into the carriage.

‘Whispering again?’ Lady Varley shook her head. ‘I hope this new woman Damon has hired will teach you both some manners.’

They travelled in silence to New Bond Street; when they reached the fashionable dressmaker’s establishment, Lady Varley took the children into the shop, declaring she would prefer to keep them under her eye. The girls gazed around them in wide-eyed wonder. At first glance the walls seemed to be decorated in rainbow colours, but closer inspection revealed shelves from floor to ceiling, packed with rolls of fabric, shiny silks and satin, soft muslins and cottons of every shade. There seemed to be half a dozen ladies in the room, but the girls soon realised that these were life-size dummies displaying the very latest fashions. Madame Fleurie herself appeared from the back of the shop flanked by two simpering assistants, each carrying rolls of creamy-coloured muslin for Lady Varley’s inspection. The modiste curtsied, bowed, flattered and fawned over her patroness, uttering so many compliments in her lilting French accent that Gwendoline turned away, her lip curling. She led her sister to a satin-covered couch, half-hidden between rolls of fabric and piles of hatboxes.

‘What are we going to do about the new governess, Gwen?’ Wilhelmina climbed on to the couch.

‘Well, I think we should try to send her away. We certainly don’t want to have her with us all the way to Lancashire. It will be much more fun with just Nurse, because she always lets us have our own way.’

‘We could play ghosts again,’ suggested Wilhelmina. ‘It worked very well with Miss Gillimore.’

‘But she was very stupid.’ Gwendoline’s tone was dismissive. ‘This one does not look stupid.’

Wilhelmina regarded her silently. It was clear that Gwendoline was thinking hard. Wilhelmina bore it patiently for a few moments, but soon wriggled off the couch and went in search of something more interesting to look at than Gwendoline’s pensive face. Aunt Louisa was engrossed in discussing fabrics and patterns with the modiste, while the assistants hurried back and forth with bolts of cloth and pieces of lace for her inspection. Wilhelmina walked around the shop; it seemed a nonsense for Aunt Louisa to be taking so long to choose a gown—the dummies were all so elegant she could surely want nothing better. The one nearest the door was dressed in a beautiful gown of apricot silk with a demi-train of shiny beads. Rows of beads also decorated the sleeves and hem, glistening in the light. Wilhelmina went closer, then closer still. It was all a cheat! It was not a dress at all—the silk had been cunningly draped around the dummy with lengths of beaded ribbon pinned into place. In fact, Wilhelmina could see where one of the pins on the sleeve had worked itself loose—perhaps if she just pushed it back in….

‘Wilhelmina, what are you doing?’

Aunt Louisa’s voice cut across the room and Wilhelmina jumped back. Unfortunately, as she did so, a loose thread on one finger of her glove caught around some of the beads, dragging them off the dummy and pulling the apricot silk with them. With a little cry Wilhelmina shook her hand, the beads fell away, but it was too late; before her horrified gaze the beautiful creation was falling apart, the silk dropping into a blushing cloud around the base of the cloth dummy.

‘You tiresome child, how many times have I told you not to touch?’ Lady Varley’s chilling accents brought a hot flush of guilt and embarrassment to Wilhelmina’s cheeks. She ran back to the couch and scrambled up beside Gwendoline.

‘Really, I do not know why I brought you. Just look at what you have done!’

‘No, no, madame, it ees nothing, nothing,’ cried Madame Fleurie, hands fluttering as she sought to placate her wealthy client. ‘It ees the work of a moment to put it right.’ She signalled to her assistants to attend to the disorder while she gently escorted Lady Varley back to the counter to finish making her selection.

Wilhelmina looked up at Gwendoline, who frowned and turned away, hunching a shoulder as if to disown her troublesome little sister. Wilhelmina felt the tears gathering in her eyes. Her bottom lip began to tremble.

‘There, there, missy, don’t cry.’ The younger of the two assistants came past, winding up the beaded ribbon into her arms. ‘There’s no ’arm done, my pet. We was about to redress that model anyway.’

Wilhelmina gave a shuddering sigh.

The assistant dropped the bundled ribbon on to the counter and came back to kneel in front of Wilhelmina, her round face creased into a kindly smile.

‘Ah, now, dearie, there’s no need for tears.’ She drew out her own handkerchief and mopped Wilhelmina’s cheeks. ‘All this fuss over a bit o’ cloth, well, I never.’ She sat back on her heels, then suddenly dived down beside the couch.

‘Here.’ She held up a small wooden doll, beautifully dressed in a brocaded gown with a silk apron and a mass of grey curls. ‘Take it, my pet, and you dry your eyes. Madame gets them sent to her from France all the time, dressed in the latest fashions, to show to her lady clients, but heaven knows where this one came from—why, look at those panniers! We haven’t made gowns like this for the past ten years at least!’

Wilhelmina gulped and stared at the doll.

‘Oh, but—I shouldn’t take her.’

‘Oh, yes, you should, my lovely. She will only be thrown away, so you might as well have her, if you like.’

‘Like? Oh, I should love her.’ Wilhelmina’s small hands closed round the doll. ‘If you really think…’

Madame Fleurie called, and after a final nod at Wilhelmina, the assistant rose quickly and trotted off.

‘Gwen,’ breathed Wilhelmina, ‘Gwen, what do you think?’

‘Keep her, if you wish,’ muttered Gwendoline. ‘Although it does seem odd to be rewarded when you have caused so much trouble.’ Seeing her little sister’s lip begin to tremble again, she gave her a quick hug. ‘Goose. I know you didn’t mean to do it. Come on, Aunt Louisa has finished; we must go.’

With regal grace, Lady Varley shepherded her two charges back to the coach, while Madame Fleurie bowed and scraped at her heels.

The children scrambled into the carriage and Lady Varley climbed in after them, dropping back with a sigh on to the well-padded seat.

‘Well, thank heaven that is done. I shall not need to come back now. Madame Fleurie can call at Burlington Street next week for a fitting. Now…’ she smiled brightly at her nieces ‘…let us take that turn around the park. It is a pity the weather is too inclement to put down the hood, but you will get an airing, none the less.’ Her glance fell to the doll Wilhelmina was holding and she tutted. ‘Oh, Minna, surely you are too old to be bringing dolls for a ride with you?’

‘No, Aunt, you see—’

‘Next time you must leave her at home.’ Lady Varley carried on as if Wilhelmina had not spoken. ‘Dolls should be kept in the nursery. Dear me, your new governess will have some work to do with you!’

Juliana had wondered how Cousin Pettigrew would take the news that she had obtained a post and was relieved that he appeared quite sanguine. Once she had explained that she had overheard the Major’s comments in the hallway of Bouverie Street, Mr Pettigrew seemed to believe that he had somehow engineered the whole thing himself, and had solved the problem of providing for his cousins at very little expense. He was therefore able to wave them off with perfect good humour. Mrs Churwell shed a tear at the thought of them all going so far away, and even pressed one last slice of fruitcake upon Thomas. He devoured it on the short journey to Burlington Street, explaining to his sisters that he would not wish to carry it with him into the Major’s house, in case his staff thought it a slight upon their hospitality.

‘So you are taking the children back to Lancashire,’ said Sir Richard.

‘Blackthorpe Hall is their home, and mine, too.’ Major Collingham tossed off his wine and walked to the side-table. ‘I have hardly been there since their mother died. There is much to be done.’ He held up the decanter and Sir Richard came over with his empty glass.

‘And you plan to marry that neighbour of yours—the widow?’

‘Lady Frances. Yes. She was in town with her father a few weeks ago. Nothing was said, of course, but much was hinted at.’

Sir Richard grimaced.

‘Too cold for my taste, old friend. I cannot ever recall seeing a spark of warmth in her.’

Damon shrugged. ‘She will make the girls a good mother. That is all I want.’

Sir Richard sipped his wine, saying nothing. The Major eyed him for a moment, then set down his glass with a snap.

‘Damnation, man, say what is on your mind.’

‘If I did that, my friend, you would call me out.’

‘You think I am making a mistake?’

Sir Richard looked down at the toe of one gleaming Hessian as he traced the pattern on the carpet. ‘I do not think Lady Frances will make you happy.’

‘I am five-and-thirty, Richard, past the age of romantic notions. So, too, is Frances. I want a mother for my children, nothing more.’ He paused, then said with some difficulty, ‘I loved Harriet. To lose her was—agony. I have no wish to go through such pain again. Frances and I understand each other—we have been neighbours for many years. She will bring up the girls and look after my house, leaving me free to get on with the business of running the estate. We shall be very comfortable.’

‘Then I wish you happy. And you have found a governess to look after the children. How did you manage that so quickly?’

‘Miss Wrenn is related to Pettigrew, the lawyer dealing with my cousin Willoughby’s affairs—you will remember he made me trustee before he died. Miss Wrenn and I struck a bargain—she is contracted to me until September, which will give me time to arrange matters in Lancashire.’

‘There were other children in the Wrenn family, as I recall.’

‘Aye. Two. They are travelling with us.’

‘The devil they are!’ Sir Richard laughed. ‘What has come over you, Damon? I thought you didn’t like children above half!’

‘Nor do I.’ He scowled. ‘You may take that look out of your eye, Rick, I’m not going soft in the head, if that’s what you are thinking. They would have to follow their sister at some stage, so it seemed expedient to take them with us. They will be company for my own girls.’

‘True, and Miss Wrenn will be looking after them, will she not? I doubt they will bother you.’

‘That is my hope. You knew her father, you said?’

‘Aye. He spent some years in France as a young man and his knowledge of the country and language was quite exceptional. In my work for the government, I often have need for someone to decipher the notes we intercept from French spies. Wrenn was one of the best.’

The Major studied his wine glass. ‘And how well do you know his daughter?’

‘We met once or twice, when I called on her father. That is all.’ Sir Richard laughed. ‘You need not worry, Damon. She was never one of my intrigues. Her reputation was—and is, I am sure—spotless.’ He bent his shrewd gaze upon his host. ‘Perhaps you have an interest there yourself?’

Damon thought of the little governess in her dull clothes with her soft brown hair braided so modestly around her head. ‘Not my line at all, my friend. She might be quite pretty, if she were dressed up.’ He sipped his wine, imagining the girl in an evening gown. Silk, he thought. It would cling to her slender body. And emerald green, to match her eyes, eyes that could suddenly gleam with mischief. He gave himself a little mental shake. ‘No, I’ve no interest there, Rick. It has never been my way to tamper with innocents, or raise false hopes.’

‘No, your taste has always been for more dashing beauties, eh, Devil Collingham?’

Damon laughed. ‘Will I never live down that damned Brussels party?’

‘It would appear not, my friend. The stories grow more outrageous every time they are retold.’

Damon shook his head. ‘We were at war and a little reckless. Who wants such stories now? The war ended over a year ago.’

‘But it pleases the ladies to remember. And it seems you did please ’em, Damon, the married ones, at least.’

‘Safer that way.’ The Major raised his glass. ‘They know I don’t offer ’em marriage. A flirtation, a little pleasure on both sides, then we go our separate ways.’

‘Like Lady Ormiston? You were very close when you came home for the Peace Celebrations in ’fourteen.’

‘That affair lasted only as long as the peace,’ said Damon, his lip curling. ‘Veronique is indeed a beauty, but she has a heart of stone.’

‘You make a fine pair, then,’ retorted Sir Richard, smiling faintly. ‘Ormiston is still playing least in sight. It seems he prefers his Scottish acres to living with his wife. I believe she has young Leeson paying court to her now; they say he’s besotted.’

‘Silly young fool.’ The Major lifted the decanter again. ‘We might as well finish this off before we go into dinner. For God’s sake, sit down, man, and you can tell me the real reason you are here.’

Sir Richard lowered himself into an armchair on one side of the empty fireplace. ‘I am chasing diamonds, dear boy.’

‘The devil you are! Is that what brings you back to England?’

‘Yes. Bonaparte’s followers have been trying to raise a force to free him from St Helena. From the letters we have intercepted we know that the Princess Borghese donated a pair of diamond earrings to the cause.’

The Major raised his black brows. ‘Bonaparte’s sister? How was she persuaded to part with them?’

‘No idea, my friend. Her passion for jewels is legendary—the Emperor himself acquired these stones in Egypt and had them made up into ear-drops for the princess. Perhaps she wanted to make a gesture of sisterly devotion.’

‘Then it would be her first! More likely one of her other—ah—admirers persuaded her to be generous.’

‘One of her lovers, you mean? Possibly. In any event, the diamonds were sent from Italy to Paris. We arrested a number of conspirators, but the gems had already been moved on.’

‘Did you identify the courier?’

‘No. We caught one or two suspects at the coast, but it seems the diamonds were hidden in rolls of cloth bound for London. We have traced the consignment and are going through all the delivery papers and bills of exchange, but that is slow work. I am investigating other possibilities.’ He crossed one elegantly shod foot over the other. ‘One thing is certain: the diamonds have not been sold. I have my contacts in the markets and there is not a whisper of such fine stones being available.’

‘What is their value?’

‘Enough to buy and fit out a ship to take Bonaparte off St Helena.’ He studied his wine glass. ‘I was going to ask you to help me track them down.’

‘Alas, Rick, I am leaving town on Friday. Besides, I am no longer in the army.’

‘True, but you do have an uncanny ability to ferret out information. Oh, never fear, I have some very clever fellows looking for these gems, so I shall find ’em.’ He finished his wine. ‘Now, you had best take me to meet the lovely Louisa, since I am joining you for my dinner.’

The following morning Juliana sallied forth upon her shopping expedition, accompanied by the four children. No sooner had the Collingham carriage departed than another, much less elegant equipage pulled up and the occupants were shown to Lady Varley’s sitting room.

‘Madame Fleurie!’ Lady Varley came out of her bedchamber, her eyebrows raised in surprise. ‘I had not expected to see you so soon. You have made up the gowns already?’

‘We ’ave been working through ze night, madame, but ze primrose muslin is of such a complexity that I need madame to try it on, if madame would be so kind?’

‘Oh, very well, but you must be quick, for I am very busy today.’

Lady Varley called for her maid and allowed herself to be draped in the soft fabric, which had been cut and partially sewn. Madame Fleurie set her minion to pin up the hem of the gown.

‘It ees a very becoming colour for you, madame,’ she said. ‘If I may mention it, my lady, when you did me the honour to visit me earlier this week, one of my assistants made a mistake: she gave one of your leetle girls a fashion doll. It was an error, madame, and I have reprimanded her, naturellement, for you see this was a special doll, dressed expressly for another of my clients. Madame, I am desolée, but I must have thees doll. Do you think—would it be possible for me to take it with me today?’

Lady Varley looked blank for a moment, then she nodded and instructed her maid to go to the schoolroom. ‘You are to find a doll.’

‘A leetle wooden lady, dressed in cherry brocade, à la Pompadour,’ added Madame Fleurie.

‘Yes, well, go and find it, and bring it here directly.’

‘Madame, you find me very grateful. If eet was for myself I would give your little children all my dolls, but this one is for a very special client, a very exacting lady…’ She let the words trail away, giving the impression that not all her clients were as accommodating as Lady Varley.

‘If you please, ma’am,’ said the maid, coming back into the room, ‘there is no doll in the schoolroom, nor in the children’s bedrooms either. And Miss Wilhelmina and Miss Gwendoline have gone out with the new governess.’

Lady Varley shrugged. ‘No matter, I will ask the children about it when they come back. Now, can we get on?’

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