Breaking the Governess’s Rules (23 page)

‘Then forget.’ Louisa gave an imperious nod. Her
insides ached with knot upon knot. If Jonathon whispered one word of love or caring about her, she would go to him, and that would be wrong. She stopped believing in dreams four years ago. ‘It is the only solution, Jonathon. Maybe it is time you learnt that you cannot have everything you desire.’

‘I learnt that lesson years ago, Louisa.’ Jonathon turned his back on her, hiding his face. ‘But we will play it your way … for now.’

Louisa bowed her head and the brim of her bonnet hid her face. ‘Thank you for respecting my decision, Jonathon.’

‘I was always a gentleman, Louisa.’ He caught her arm and turned her so that her heart-shaped face faced him. He wanted to shake her and get her to listen to what he was saying, but he also knew she was right. He would not stoop to causing a scandal. ‘I will give you the privilege of changing your mind.’

‘That won’t happen.’ Her voice shook with the faintest of tremors. ‘I can assure you.’

He straightened her bonnet with a twitch of his fingers, allowing a single strand of hair to wrap itself around his thumb in the process. He resisted the temptation to bring it to his mouth. ‘I wonder what excuse you will use the next time.’

‘There will be no next time.’

‘You were never good at wagering, Louisa, so do not even start.’ Jonathon gave her a bow. ‘You will be the one who begs for my mouth. We are meant to be together.’

B
eg. She would never beg for his touch. Louisa gritted her teeth and concentrated on the dining-room chandelier’s flickering light. Jonathon’s arrogant prediction as the replacement coach had arrived continued to echo in her brain several hours later. No flimsy excuse would cross her lips but she might find a reason to surrender.

Louisa released a breath the moment she reached the corridor, expanding her lungs until her breasts were tight against the
décolleté
green evening dress. She had made it through supper. It had been sheer torture to sit at the table with Jonathon presiding at the other end.

She had tried very hard to pay attention to the dinnertable conversation, but her mind had kept drifting back to the afternoon.

Forgetting about him was proving harder than she had thought possible, little short of torture. With each turn of his head at supper, every time his fingers had curled around the wine or water glass, a warm heat had infused her body, curling around her insides.

What was worse was that several times their gazes had met and he appeared to know precisely what she was thinking. Having an affair was tempting. It would be a way to banish him from her system.

‘Miss Sibson, that shade of green suits you. You must tell me how you do it,’ Miss Blandish said, taking Louisa’s arm as she entered the drawing room and leading her away from the chair she had occupied the previous evening and towards the centre of the room.

‘I like the colour and the colour likes me.’ Louisa dipped her head. What was Miss Blandish playing at now? The woman had scarcely spoken more than a few words to her and suddenly she was behaving as if they were bosom friends.

Miss Blandish gave a little trilling laugh. ‘The country air must be good for you. It has certainly put the roses in your cheeks over the last few days. When we were in Newcastle, I thought you were pale and insignificant, but now I can see I was utterly wrong. You appear as if you were lit by a thousand candles.’

Louisa stopped and stared at Miss Blandish. A compliment—a back-handed compliment, to be sure, but a compliment all the same. She swallowed hard. Hopefully what had happened this afternoon did not show on her face! Even the maid had said something about her heightened colour and how much better her complexion was for spending a few days in the country.

Her breathing eased. The notion that Miss Blandish had guessed was misplaced guilt.

Despite Miss Daphne’s eyes twinkling, she had not asked about the details of Louisa’s misadventure when she’d gone to see her and explain about the unexpected
delay. Thankfully, Dexter the coachman had given a very graphic account of the accident, playing up his part. And Miss Daphne knew how much Louisa hated thunderstorms.

She inclined her head and accepted Miss Blandish’s compliment as an overture of friendship. ‘The right shade can do wonders for one’s complexion.’

‘You are lucky to be able to wear green.’ The blonde woman linked her arm with Louisa’s. ‘I have always wanted to wear green but my dear mama keeps me in pink. She says that green makes me look bilious. What is worse is that Prunella agrees. This afternoon while it was raining she said so very loudly. And Lord Furniss overheard, I’m sure of it. He was reading in the library.’

‘You are imagining things.’ Louisa leant forwards and dropped her voice. Now was the perfect time to matchmake. ‘Lord Furniss tends to concentrate quite hard when he is reading. He will not have heard.’

‘You are sweet. You have no idea what a trial Nella has been and how it has preyed on my mind. I would hate for Lord Furniss to think me bilious in anything.’

‘It is one of the good parts about having no siblings,’ Louisa said with the slightest catch in her throat. ‘Not having to worry about one’s younger sister.’

‘Yes, I have never thought of it in that light. No one to tell you what to do or wear. Now that has a certain appeal.’ Miss Blandish giggled like a young girl. ‘When I get married, I am planning to wear green simply to spite my mother.’

‘Lord Furniss appears to like you in pink.’

Miss Blandish’s cheeks coloured slightly and she
lowered her voice. ‘Do you think so? Lord Furniss is, well … very pleasant and amenable. I know Mama would prefer Lord Chesterholm for me, but there is just a certain something about Lord Furniss. I think it is his hands with their clean nails and tapering fingers. I noticed them when he was teaching me the proper way to bowl.’

‘It sometimes happens that way.’ Louisa glanced over her shoulder towards where Miss Daphne sat seemingly engrossed in an animated conversation with Nella. Her matchmaking scheme was progressing far better than she had dreamt possible.

‘Shall we take a turn about the drawing room?’ Miss Blandish said, lowering her voice and gripping Louisa’s arm tighter. ‘I simply cannot face another moment at the spinet. Miss Daphne kept me at my scales for hours and hours until my voice was beyond hoarse. Dear Mama has had me take some of her tonic in preparation, but I cannot face another warble. I can’t remember ever practising that much.’

‘Just think about Lord Furniss and the pleasure he took in your voice.’

Miss Blandish brightened and then a frown marred her features. ‘Of course, it might all change when Margaret Ponsby-Smythe arrives tomorrow.’

Louisa froze. The room swayed slightly and then righted. She swallowed hard and tried to keep from being ill as a sense of supreme betrayal coursed through her. Margaret was expected tomorrow. And that would mean Mrs Ponsby-Smythe arriving as well. She could not see Margaret being allowed to travel on her own. Jonathon had kept that intelligence from her. Despite
everything they had shared, despite her sharing her secret, he was still playing games.

He had been the one to send the driver away. He’d known where the hut was. Louisa pinched her brow. He could not have predicted the broken carriage wheel or the storm, but he had taken advantage of her. He had sought to bind her to him before she had a chance to confront Venetia. He had kept it from her.

‘Miss Sibson? You have gone pale.’

‘I wasn’t aware that Margaret was arriving so soon.’
Or at all.
All her excitement tasted like ash in her mouth. She remained a naïve fool. Louisa stiffened her shoulders. No, that was wrong. She had been deceived.

‘Apparently Lord Chesterholm has been put out at her taking so long. He anticipated her and Mrs Ponsby-Smythe this afternoon. You must sit down, Miss Sibson, before you fall down.’ Miss Blandish put a hand under Louisa’s elbow and led her to the sofa.

Louisa gulped in air. ‘How did you learn this intelligence?’

‘My sister overheard Lord Chesterholm when he returned from your journey. She listens at doors. Apparently he let out a roar that could be heard two counties away.’

Ice-cold shock coursed through Louisa, closely followed by white-hot anger. Why had she learnt nothing? Once again she had been living in some fantasy world of her own making. She had even considered his disreputable offer.

‘It is a terrible habit to listen at doors,’ Louisa said, concentrating on the candles above the mantelpiece and how they glowed and tried to remember Miss Mattie’s
mantra: calm, cool, reasonable. Jonathon could only hurt her if she gave him the power to do so and she refused to allow her heart to be broken a third time. She should have remembered that storms always pass.

‘But a useful habit.’ Miss Blandish tapped her mouth with her fan. ‘Lately Nella has proved invaluable with certain information. I wish she would learn to hold her tongue on other matters, though.’

Louisa allowed Miss Blandish’s words to flow over her as she concentrated on a single candle flame. The knowledge of Jonathon’s betrayal kept circling through her brain. He was seeking to use her. She had been wrong to think that there was anything real or lasting between them. He wanted all her secrets, but was not even prepared to tell her that his stepmother was expected.

‘Miss Sibson, are you sure you are quite the thing? Your cheek grows paler and paler.’ Miss Blandish waved her fan in front of Louisa’s face.

‘I never faint.’ Louisa pushed the fan away. ‘We were speaking of Lord Furniss. I’m sure he will prove a faithful squire to you.’

‘You are good to say that, but until he actually makes an offer, I cannot count on the faithfulness of his heart. There have been many a slip between cup and lip.’ Miss Blandish gave a little high-pitched laugh, but Louisa could see the fear in the young woman’s eyes. ‘I have no idea what Miss Ponsby-Smythe is like and I would hate to give my heart only to have it broken.’

‘If you never give your heart, how can you expect him to give his?’ Louisa kept her voice light. Miss Blandish
would make a good match with Lord Furniss. At least some happiness could come from this house party.

‘But is she pretty?’

Louisa closed her eyes, remembering Margaret’s somewhat mismatched features. Clarissa had been cruel, and often pointed out what a graceless elephant Margaret was and how her nose was far too large for her face.

‘Not conventionally so, but she had a certain liveliness to her conversation.’ Louisa tapped her fan against her teeth. ‘But knowing both of them, I would be surprised if Lord Furniss would find Margaret a compatible companion in life.’

Miss Blandish pressed Louisa’s hand. ‘You do not know how it does my heart good to hear this. I have no wish for Lord Furniss to become distracted. A man with a title is sought after and he does have the dearest smile. When he smiles, my entire being lights up.’

‘It all depends on the woman.’ Louisa squeezed Miss Blandish’s hand. ‘Some women have lots of proposals and others need only one. But I am sure the right man is out there.’

Miss Blandish’s colour rose and she pressed Louisa’s hand tighter. ‘But I do think he could be the one. He has even praised my singing. I mean, it is as if he looks at me and sees
me,
rather than my dowry. It is amazing how many men simply see my father’s mills and factories. I want to be loved for me. Is that too much to ask?’

‘I am sure the right man will find you,’ Louisa said quietly as she disentangled her hand. To be loved and cherished for oneself—wasn’t that what everyone hoped
for? It was that sometimes what one wanted, one could not have.

She had misjudged Miss Blandish. Miss Blandish was more than a feather-brained débutante. She was a woman who wanted love. Louisa was as guilty as those who looked at her and saw a former governess. It was the person who mattered and not the label. ‘You are quite beautiful, Miss Blandish. When I was younger I yearned to have your sort of complexion—all roses and cream, the sort that suits ball gowns.’

‘I can’t afford another scandal. Not one little hint. I have to be so very careful.’ Miss Blandish gave a soft sigh and raised her handkerchief to her eye. ‘If that happens I might as well give up and go to the Continent. Lord Edward—’

‘The man who died earlier this summer. You must be upset about that. Did you love him very much?’

Miss Blandish blinked at her, shocked. ‘I never loved Edward Heritage. I would have like the title, but as a man, no, not in the same way I feel about Lord Furniss, you see. There is just a connection between us. I find it impossible to explain. Have you ever loved someone, Miss Sibson?’

‘I thought I did,’ Louisa said without thinking. ‘Then I was sure I didn’t.’

‘And now?’

‘Now everything is muddled,’ Louisa admitted. ‘And you?’

‘I was sorry, of course. The aftermath was dreadful. No one seeks another’s death, even if it was heroic.’ Miss Blandish’s eyes widened. ‘Mama encouraged me to be
far too free with him. It could have been much worse. We were never caught together.’