Breaking the Governess’s Rules (28 page)

‘Mattie was a disappointed old woman who let her pride stand in the way of her happiness.’ Miss Daphne picked up one of the cameos.

‘You are wrong about Miss Mattie and wrong about me.’ Louisa crossed her arms.

‘You have no idea what she threw away.’ Miss Daphne gave a heart-wrenching sigh. ‘Do not let history repeat itself, Louisa. One is seldom offered a second chance, but you have been. Take it and embrace it.’

Louisa started to explain that this was different, but at Miss Daphne’s intent look she closed her mouth. ‘I will consider your advice, Miss Daphne.’

‘It is all I ask.’ Miss Daphne extended her hand. ‘Shall we go down to dinner? I declare listening to Nella Blandish and her stories makes me hungry. Oh, to be that young again and have my whole life in front of me.’

‘Mrs Ponsby-Smythe. We meet again.’ Louisa said, releasing her hold on Miss Daphne’s arm as Mrs Ponsby-Smythe stood in front of them, blocking their progress. It was almost as if the woman had been waiting for her.

For years Venetia Ponsby-Smythe had haunted her dreams, but she was much smaller than Louisa had remembered. In person, she was less fearsome—her hair was askew and her breath smelt like alcohol smothered
in peppermints. Louisa concentrated on the carpet pattern. This woman no longer had any power over her. She was a woman of substance, but there was also a very small part of her who remained the naïve governess.

‘I expect you are feeling proud.’ Mrs Ponsby-Smythe’s lip curled. ‘The cast-off disgrace has returned in triumph. Are you going to gloat?’

‘Everyone will be gathering for dinner.’ Louisa kept her voice steady. Surely Venetia Ponsby-Smythe did not want a public scene. Louisa would not shrink from one, but this was far from the place.

‘Mrs Ponsby-Smythe. How delightful to see you again,’ Miss Daphne said, coming to stand beside Louisa. ‘I believe we last met at Eton—’

‘You broke your promise to me. Your solemn oath.’ Mrs Ponsby-Smythe jabbed her finger at Louisa, interrupting Miss Daphne. ‘Explain yourself, Louisa Sibson. You were never to return to England, never to have anything to do with my family. I have sweated blood for you.’

The woman was clearly unhinged, obsessed. Louisa briefly wondered if she had always been that way.

‘Do you wish to have a public confrontation, Mrs Ponsby-Smythe? This time there are witnesses.’ Louisa was surprised at how calm and collected her voice sounded. ‘I would think washing your laundry for all to see is something you would be advised to avoid if you wish to keep your reputation.’

‘Are you threatening me?’ Mrs Ponsby-Smythe drew back in amazement. ‘Who are you to threaten me? Nobody will believe you. All you are is soiled Haymarketware.’

Louisa briefly glanced at Miss Daphne, who nodded back.

‘No, I am stating the truth. I welcome the chance to speak with you. I have nothing to fear from the truth. Can you say the same? Miss Daphne Elliot’s connections are impeccable.’

‘And I will not hesitate to use them,’ Miss Daphne whispered in an undertone. ‘Have no fear, Louisa.’

‘I am giving you the opportunity to retain your dignity, Mrs Ponsby-Smythe,’ Louisa said, repeating the same words Mrs Ponsby-Smythe had used all those years ago when Louisa had begged for help in contacting Jonathon.

The woman blinked and took a step backwards. Clearly she was expecting Louisa to cower and beg forgiveness, just as she had done all those years ago when she had come looking for Jonathon with a baby in her womb. Mrs Ponsby-Smythe had another think coming. Louisa’s days of being afraid were long over. What the woman thought of her and what she might have been able to do to her once upon a time had vanished. She had no power. She held no mystic key to make others think badly of Louisa. Louisa’s shoulders felt lighter as she kept her gaze steady and Venetia Ponsby-Smythe turned away.

‘That is up to you, Miss Sibson,’ she said in a cold voice. ‘But I suspect you seek an audience.’

Louisa squeezed Miss Daphne’s hand, whispering that she would meet her in the drawing room. The elderly lady squeezed her hand back. Louisa waited until the sound of her footsteps faded.

‘You have changed, Miss Sibson.’ Mrs Ponsby-Smythe
said. ‘I would have thought you would need an ally. You were always looking for someone else to fight your battles. A white knight.’

‘Mrs Ponsby-Smythe,’ Louisa began, gripping the banister for support as the enormity of what she was about to do swept over her. Whatever happened, she refused to show this woman how terrified she was of getting it wrong, of breaking down and crying.

‘You think you are very smart, Louisa, returning this way. Seeking to recapture my stepson’s heart and step into Clarissa’s shoes. If she remained alive … he loved her, you know.’

Louisa kept her shoulders down and her head up. The well-aimed barb stung far less than she thought it would. Louisa released the banister and stood with her hands lightly clasped in front of her. She could do this. She was sure of it now.

‘You lied to me. You lied to your stepson and to your daughter. You have lived a lie. If you had not lied, Jonathon would have been free to make his own choice.’

Mrs Ponsby-Smythe raised a handkerchief to her eyes. ‘You have no idea of the crosses I have to bear. The trouble and pain they have caused me.’

‘What crosses? When have you ever missed a tea, walked with paper in your shoes, or had to sleep under a bridge? Have you ever lost a baby whilst burning up with fever? Until you have had this happen, do not speak to me of crosses and deprivation. I was naïve, Mrs Ponsby-Smythe, but you were wicked.’

‘How dare you speak to one of your betters like that! How dare you accuse me of wickedness! I did what I had to do for my family!’

‘My better?’ Louisa allowed her gaze to travel down the length of Mrs Ponsby-Smythe. Once she had considered Mrs Ponsby-Smythe the height of sophistication and taste, but no longer. She was simply a disappointed, ruthlessly ambitious woman. And pity for her flooded through Louisa. ‘You are not fit to wipe the floor after me.’

‘You are getting beyond your station, my dear,’ Mrs Ponsby-Smythe said in a loud whisper. ‘I warned you of what could happen if you became involved with my stepson, but you chose to disregard my heartfelt warnings. You have no one to blame but yourself.’

Louisa tapped her slipper on the ground. Heartfelt warnings indeed! The woman had no conception. The only heartfelt thing she believed in was her own social advancement. ‘Your machinations will not work this time, Mrs Ponsby-Smythe. My one regret is that I respected you once upon a time. Remove yourself from my path. I have a dinner to attend.’

‘As a servant to that old biddy?’ Mrs Ponsby-Smythe’s lip curled back and she stood squarely in the middle of the stairs. ‘That woman wants her head examined for employing a woman with as loose morals as you.’

‘As an equal.’ Louisa lifted her chin and took a step towards the woman. ‘I would watch what you say about Miss Elliot. Miss Elliot has friends and family who love her.’

‘You? An equal? I would rather die!’

‘That is your choice. For my part, what happened is in the past and has no part of my future.’ Louisa reached the woman and stood toe to toe with her. Mrs Ponsby-Smythe
looked away. ‘Stand aside, Mrs Ponsby-Smythe. I have a dinner to attend.’

Mrs Ponsby-Smythe moved out of Louisa’s way, allowing her to pass.

‘You will regret this, Louisa,’ she said in a biting undertone. ‘He will never love you. You can never take Clarissa’s place. She is the mother of his son. His heart will never be yours.’

Despite everything, the barb stung. Louisa stopped. Slowly she regained control. She glanced back over her shoulder and saw a wild-haired old woman who had lost everything.

‘You are deluding yourself, if you think I care about your opinion on the matter.’ Louisa turned away from Mrs Ponsby-Smythe and walked down the remaining stairs.

Her whole life in front of her.
Louisa stared at the closed study door later that evening as Miss Daphne’s words echoed in her brain. After her confrontation with Mrs Ponsby-Smythe she had made it through supper and Miss Blandish’s recital. Neither Mrs Ponsby-Smythe nor Jonathon had put in an appearance. There was no chance of encountering him in the garden either as rain fell steadily. It was as if he was avoiding her. There had to be a way of making him understand that she was ready to begin living her life properly. The past no longer shackled her.

Louisa took a deep breath, straightened the skirts of her green off-the-shoulder dress and forced her hand to grip the door handle and turn it.

She had been given a second chance and she had hung
on to the bitterness. She was not behaving like Annie Sims, seeking to romanticise the past, but was looking towards the future where there were no shadows. The man she was interested in was Jonathon Fanshaw, Lord Chesterholm, rather than the young and dashing Jonathon Ponsby-Smythe.

Her encounter with Mrs Ponsby-Smythe had shown her that she had allowed the past to have power over her, rather than taking charge of her life. From here on in she would live her life the way she wanted to. She was finished with hiding in the shadows and worrying what others thought of her. It was her life to live how she wanted and she wanted Jonathon.

Jonathon was in deep discussion with Roberts and his valet. The instant she entered the room, the conversation ceased.

‘Am I interrupting something?’ Louisa asked.

‘Not at all,’ Jonathon replied, dismissing the men. ‘Stay, Louisa. There is nothing more that can be done tonight but in the morning, I want the search to begin again. This time, I want him found.’

‘Very good, my lord.’ The men bowed and left.

‘Search? Has someone gone missing?’ Louisa asked.

‘Nothing for you to worry about. Everything is under control. This little adventure has nothing to do with the house party. There was a report that Annie’s former lover had been spotted in the neighbourhood, but it proved false. As a precaution, though, I have had the snuffboxes and other valuables locked up in the new safe,’ Jonathon said. He walked over to the fire and gave the coals a poke, sending bright sparks arching in the
air. ‘Is it thundering again? What disturbs your sleep this time?’

‘You,’ Louisa said, advancing forwards. Warm pulses coursed through her body with each breath she took. ‘You disturb me.’

‘Why are you down here? Are you going to try to seduce me into arranging a meeting with Venetia? You are too late. She left during dinner.’ He held up a hand, stopping her words. ‘She demanded a carriage and passage to the Continent. I saw no reason to stop her. You may despise me if you like.’

‘Venetia and I have already exchanged words. We have nothing more to say to each other.’ Louisa pressed her hands against the skirt of her gown. Venetia had run without ever telling Jonathon about the encounter. She had abandoned her daughter rather than face up to her crime. ‘You were right about that.’

He dipped his head. ‘When did this encounter happen?’

‘Before supper, but there was no chance to tell you and then you disappeared …’

‘Venetia never breathed a word.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me that she had gone?’

‘I do have a responsibility towards my tenants. After she departed another matter claimed my attention.’ He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. ‘I have spent the better part of the evening out in the freezing rain, trying to figure out what precisely happened at Middle Farm. But I am curious—how did you waylay her?’

‘I did not plan on it, Jonathon. We met on the stairs. Miss Daphne was with me. Your stepmother confronted me. At my request Miss Daphne withdrew and I faced
her on my own. In private.’ Louisa glared at him. ‘I did not seek the fight, but neither would I run from it.’

‘Did my stepmother upset you?’ he asked urgently. ‘I wanted to spare you that.’

‘Surprisingly, no—more than anything I pitied her.’

‘Pitied?’ His face showed his amazement.

‘To be that consumed by ambition and hatred…’ Louisa turned her palms face upwards. ‘We have an understanding—the loathing is on her part. For mine, I want to live my life unhampered by the past. I have fought my demon and won. And, Jonathon, my demon was not your stepmother, but my fear of being inadequate and unworthy.’

Louisa waited unflinchingly under his amazed gaze, ready for when he stretched out his hand. He made no move towards her.

‘Is that the only reason you have sought me out?’ he asked, breaking the silence. ‘I
never
had any doubts about your worthiness.’

Louisa took a great breath. She had to seize the opportunity. She had one chance to make it right.

‘I came here on another purpose,’ she admitted. ‘To seduce you.’

‘Seduction?’ He gave an amused laugh. ‘Or wishing I would seduce you?’

‘I am aware of the difference.’ Confidence bubbled through her. For this once, she would take what she wanted without apology or shame.

‘So you say.’ His eyes danced full of hidden fire. ‘But I wonder …’

‘I am a grown woman. I take full responsibility.’

Louisa worried her bottom lip. He needed to know that she was not expecting for ever. ‘I am not looking for marriage, Jonathon. I want to live in the now.’

The shadow of a dimple shone in his cheek. ‘Are you certain about this? Seducing me will not be easy.’

‘Yes, I am certain.’

With three quick steps, Louisa reached him and undid his stock, throwing it on the ground. Without giving herself time to think or pause, she undid the buttons of his shirt. The shifting light from the fire turned his skin to red-gold, begging to be tasted. He did not move to touch her or help her.

Her fingers faltered and stilled. It was far harder than she had imagined. She willed him to respond, but he stood unmoving with his chin slightly raised, the shirt hanging loose about his body. ‘Shall I go away?’

‘No.’ The word was drawn from his throat. He put his hands on her shoulders, held her from him. His seagreen gaze penetrated her being. ‘What do you hope to gain from this little experiment?’

‘Making love with you is not about gaining anything. It is about experiencing life.’ She kept her head up and made her words sound firm. ‘If a man might seduce a woman for no purpose, why can’t an independent woman seduce a man?’